#dyke singularity is a beautiful thing

[thatneoncrisis]

writing a book rn where the Only male characters are people's cringe dads i am drawing a hard line in the sand

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Well. In light of the recent vanessa fic, I am going to request a few things. How about Helena going to MC's high school reunion?

WARNINGS: Intolerable sexist arseholes Referenced rape culture Blood and minor violence Written by: @evoedbd ******************************************

“Helena… my feet hurt.” Kya’s soft, plaintive voice rung like gunshots in Helena’s ears. To hear that Kya was in pain caused a war of sensations within the Sorceress, turning her chest into a battlefield as she aimed to pick out her own thoughts amidst the din. The music was too loud. All pulsing beats and pop hits that all bled into one another in an unpleasant screech. With all the beauty Kya’s people could capture, the fact they abused that power to capture such meaningless garble was bad enough, but the songs that Helena’s ears had picked out went beyond this. The images of men taking what they pleased, or endlessly fucking hoes and capping foes… it set her teeth on edge. Why would anybody wish to put a cap on someone they disliked so much? It was absolutely beyond her. After all, she had seen the selfishness of humanity. She had seen people who would do precisely what the songs fantasized about. She had been one of those prizes. The pet. The mess left behind once a tyrant had finished with her for the night. She had been the violated girl dragging herself across the floors because she couldn’t walk, trailing blood. Why did some of Kya’s people find this concept worth celebrating? How many even knew what they danced to? “Helena?” This time, Kya’s voice was pleading. A gentle touch to Helena’s ravaged senses. This was accompanied by the lightest touch to her forearm, fingertips begging for more yet restraining themselves until Helena gave consent. The Sorceress had to close her eyes, to stop watching and picture a much calmer place. An open field, filled with flowers that had no name, not in this world. Flowers woven through black hair, accompanying laughter that became wings for Helena’s soul. She didn’t particularly want to open her eyes to the gyrating crowds. Around her, she could feel a thousand candles, each flickering in time with the sea of sorry, middle-aged bodies awkwardly trying to reclaim their youth. All dressed in finery above their means as they tried to convince everyone of their success and happiness, even as they reeked of misery. An ocean of people, all smiling politely whilst firing knives from their tongue, shooting daggers from their eyes. Alcohol flowing a little too freely, too dangerously. Control, so willingly abandoned. It was as if none of them knew its value. As if none of these people had ever seen or experienced control torn away completely, until even the breath a body took was at another’s whim. Then there were the lights. A spinning ball reflected everything, casting a thousand fragments of light across the floor, growing larger as they grew further from the centre. Spinning chaos across the wooden floors, illuminating the deep blue lighting, catching in the mist across the dancing masses. An unnatural mist summoned by machines… and Kya said her people possessed no magic. “Helena… are you with me?” The longing to answer hit her harder than a boulder from a catapult against a crumbling castle wall. Gods, how she wanted to open her eyes and find only one person before her. Yet, she was surrounded; drowning in the sea of bodies as the unnatural mist lapped at her ankles. As elbows collided with her, or fingers nipped at the bottom of her hair like vultures testing the fight left in their meat. Her heart pounded, beating against the cage of her chest much like how her magic pulsed with her fears. Limbs tingled; fingers began to move on instinct. Then, warmth. So much warmth. Enough that she gasped. Instantly, her lungs filled with air; her nose with that delicious mix she had never quite learned. Something soft, something smoky and then a hint of spice. Always, it was sweet. So very, very intoxicatingly sweet… but not sugary. The underlying bitterness of coffee tempered sweetness so deliciously that Helena found herself devoured by her craving for that scent. A second inhale gave her more, slowly begun to redirect her roaming senses to a singular focus. It was enough for her to open her eyes. “Welcome back.” A kind voice fell from naked lips. The smile upon them was small, nothing intended for the world to see. A secret amidst the crowd, the last life jacket on the Titanic. Just seeing it was enough for Helena to be saved. Shining grey eyes accompanied that encouraging little smile. Adoration glistened in beautiful grey depths, outshining the tinges of concern playing flecks in bluestone. In the swirling lights and dulled room, stone was more akin to gems than cobble, captivating Helena’s attention for far longer than society deemed polite. She could care less. Museums held marble statues of deities past, depictions of Aphrodite to stare at for hours. Marble was incomparable to the greys, Aphrodite a hag compared to the graceful woman donning such a flowing black dress. Elegance in its purest simplicity. “As if I could ever be parted from you.” Helena gave her best attempt at a purr. It was effective, given the creep of pink over Kya’s pale cheeks. Pale, not bloodless, Helena reminded herself. Bloodless was danger. It was the colour Kya had gone after the Queen’s spell struck her. It was the colour Kya had been when the Queen held a blade to her throat, when the Queen tormented Helena into confessing every pain, tried to make Sorceress scream and kneel. Tried to break her. Bloodless was the Witch Queen leering over a terrified girl, or ordering her most loyal man to ensure said girl was prepared… Helena flinched. Faster than Helena could blink, Kya’s hands left her, gathering in front of said woman’s chest. Kya held her hands there patiently, as if they were to be bound. Somehow, the speed and implications of such a gesture did not spark further fear within Helena, did not reignite the painful memories lapping at the edge of her consciousness. How such gestures could be made soft and welcoming, appealing even, still befuddled her. Flummoxed, her breath caught, even as Kya spoke. “Helena, I’m going to grab your tie, ok? I won’t pull, and my hands won’t move until I know you are ok. If you need to grab me, that’s ok. I know you won’t hurt me. We can just sway.” “The music is too upbeat for such a slow dance.” Came Helena’s rebuttal, even as her body moved to follow Kya’s suggestion. Cautiously, she gathered Kya into her chest, holding the otherworldly beauty there as if the world might snatch her away. Beneath Helena’s pale skin magic simmered. It heated her veins, writhing and bubbling like serpents of heated tar. She could feel the sparks escaping her control, trapped between her skin and her silken black button up. Kya had expressed her appreciation for Helena’s suit, several times, yet Helena had not seen the appeal until just now. The darkness of her shirt slimmed her down a little, whilst also concealing the fact she was sweating bullets. Her turquoise suit jacket was cut to perfection, emphasising both the strength of her shoulders and her feminine curves, without drawing attention to an overly generous bust. The matching pants fit her like a second skin, showing off impossibly long legs right to heels which meant business. Not only did they elevate her above the heads of many men, they also screamed womanly power. That she could, and would, step on any fool who crossed her path. Then, there was her crisp white tie… the very tie currently embraced between Kya’s gentle fingers. “Who cares about the music? We make our own rules, babe, always have. This was meant to be something fun, Helena. I didn’t think it’d be like this. I just thought it’d be romantic. Like going to prom with my soulmate, instead of some boy who expected me to finish the night on the backseat of his car.” “That boy dare-“ “He didn’t try to physically force me. He was confused as to why I wouldn’t, tried to convince me verbally, but he never laid a hand on me. He wasn’t a bad person, just an ignorant one. He was influenced by the wrong people. He actually wrote me an apology. It doesn’t makes my memory of prom the best.” “Yeah, had a bitch, but she ain’t bad as you. So hit me up when you passing through. I’ll give you something big enough to tear your ass in two” “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Kya exploded, her wrath erupting in an enraged shout. Her voice carried, drawing countless gazes to the human embodiment of furious flames about to claim their penance. Kya’s entire body trembled, almost as if her growls were causing her to vibrate, and her cheeks took on a hue often associated with a devil. The fire in her eyes seemed poised to devour the world in its search for vengeance, yet Kya tempered it to three precise culprits. Three large men, all crowding around an uncomfortable-looking DJ who cringed as the song continued to play across a stagnant dance floor. “What’s wrong? Don’t like the music, dyke?” The first man sneered, his voice grating from between crooked teeth. His mates laughed, playfully jabbing him in his well-padded arms, hooting their drunken approval. His large belly jiggled as he laughed. Helena’s eye was drawn to his shirt, specifically the valiant efforts of a single thread stretched between a disconnected button and said shirt. “You’ve been playing rape culture bullshit for over half an hour. Do you even know what half of this shit means? Slip her a Molly? That is roofies! Drugging a woman’s drink to sleep with her, cause that’s totally sexy. That Nirvana song? It is literally about a rape victim. Did you idiots even stop to think that some people here might have gone through that?” Kya’s accusations were sharp, to the point, a jab of a blade straight to the ribcage. “We thought it was setting the mood. Isn’t your bitch DTF? She looks the type.” The second man taunted, giving a poor attempt at a suggestive wiggle of his brows. This man appeared more in shape, lithe, with the veins standing stark beneath his muscles. However, the stench of alcohol was only smothered by the copious amounts of noisme body spray he stained his wrinkled shirt with. “This isn’t the 1800s, dude. Women have the right to get married and be together outside of a Pornhub video.” Kya’s tone dropped along with her brows, her expression challenging, daring the men to come up with a retort worthy of her. “It isn’t rape if the bitch wants it.” The third man jeered. Unlike his counterparts, he appeared clean and put together, something Helena might have even called attractive before he opened his mouth. A good-looking man, ruined by his horrific mouth or corrupt by the company he kept. “What happened to you three? How can you be so cruel as to deliberately target someone just for existing? I know you’ve been watching us and noticed Helena’s reactions.” Kya’s words struck Helena to the core. Suddenly everything made too much sense. How the songs had seemed to only get worse and worse, their violations and sexist attitude more crudely represented. More stark. How the music had steadily grown louder and louder, until their sounds had burned into Helena’s consciousness. Until they became shadows which she could not be free of. Shadows where leering eyes hid, a pride of lions or a pack of wolves slowly circling their prey. What she had dismissed as a trickle of sweat down her back now stood out, an instinctual twinge, a warning. One she had not taken heed of. It left her wondering, was anywhere truly safe for her aside from Kya’s arms? Even in this strange new world, where nobody knew her crimes, she found herself persecuted. Had coming here truly been the new start she believed it to be? Or had she just fled her own insecurity into a pit of newer, wiser vipers whilst she played catch up for over thirty years of missing knowledge? “This is America, we have the right to listen to what we want.” “You have a constitutional right not to be a colossal dick.” Kya fired back without pause. This earned several snickers from around the room at the man’s expense. She wasn’t done, not even close. Kya continued, launching into a scolding with enough disgust in her tone to cow the watching crowds. “After everything she has done for this damn country, hell, the world, she deserves ONE night without some douchebags throwing shit at her. All we wanted was to come and have a lovely night out, not cop sexual harassment from a failed security guard, an alcoholic and a walking advertisement for how not to be a man all trying to relive their high school glory days.” “What? She got bored of servicing all the real men and went for her own bitch to boss around instead?” The second man taunted, snickering loudly at Kya’s repulsed expression. The expression was barely a flicker on the way to a smile. No, a smile implied genuine joy and happiness. Kya’s expression was something far darker. Ink dropped into water, sinking to the bottom of the glass. Purity tainted by malicious intent. Helena internally flinched. That expression was unlike anything she had seen from Kya before, save when Kya dealt with the Queen. It was the closest Kya could ever come to such wickedness; the closest Helena could bare to see her fall. “Oh I get it now. This is about your inferiority complex that no woman as gorgeous as Helena would want to be within ten feet of you unless it was to deliver a restraining order.” Kya’s voice was so calm, so crisp and clear, yet somehow a sneer. Something that even the Witch Queen could never truly pull off. It all happened so fast. Faster than Helena could even react. One moment, Kya was snarling in the face of some asshole, the next he had reached out in a sloppy attempt to smack her. Kya was faster. In a blink, she had grabbed the man’s wrist, grip unyielding, stepped into his space and twisted her body. Just like Helena had taught her. The man went plummeting to the ground in a flurry of ill-fitting formalwear and disgusting body spray. The collision was bone-jarring, filling the room with an audible thud. Before anybody could do anything more than gasp, the third man launched at Kya’s exposed back. Helena’s heart leapt into her throat, her magic burning beneath her skin in preparation to unleash. It was a pointless endeavour. Kya moved naturally, as fluidly as a trickling stream with the passion of a dancer and the heart of a knight. Her elbow came up, driven into the man’s nose without a moment of hesitation. He too fell, left with only his hands to try and still the raging current of blood pouring between his trembling fingers. His hands desperately palmed the broken mass of his nose, which made his cries sound wet and gargling. A second strike, a vicious kick to his groin, ensured he would not be getting up again. Helena arched a brow. That was not something she had taught Kya. “How?” The most rotund of the three questioned, wisely keeping his hands well away from Kya as she stormed up to him. Helena knew his fear, it was once an intimate companion to her afterall. He looked at Kya as if she were the Witch Queen, something which sat uneasily in Helena’s gut. Even here, Kya was not the Queen. She had not taken evident joy in her power over these men, nor in their fear. Kya wore an entirely too calm expression, as if the violence had been a bore to her. As if the blood running down her arm was something to be nonchalant about. She was silent as she reached out, hooking a single finger into the string stretched between button and shirt. Finally, it gave out, snapping under the added pressure. Then, Kya spoke, her voice kept low as if to protect the man from further humiliation. “My wife is a war hero. I’m not the scary one.” She informed, using the tails of his shirt to wipe the blood from her arm. At Kya’s words, Helena noticed the room focus on her for a moment, awe and respect flooding their eyes in a manner that was entirely too familiar. Too uncomfortable. It was the awe and fear of Reiner’s army. How long would it be until they too saw the monster she could be? Could that be how they now viewed Kya? “She’s earned her peace, and I’ll fuck up anybody who tries to attack that. She shouldn’t have to kill anybody else to protect this country, let alone deal with shitfucks like your friends shaming her for having an ounce of happiness.” Kya continued, eyes blazing dangerously. That. That there was something the Queen never had. The heat in her eyes, the fire and compassion. Helena’s heart rose in her throat. She’d seen this scene before. The Queen, leering over her prey, leaning down to mock their failure before she crushed them. Now Helena could see it. Kya’s connection to the Queen. The heat had faded from her cheeks, yet that heat seemed to have migrated to her eyes. Where the queen froze, Kya blazed, charring the man’s willpower to cinders with but one annoyed glance. Her focused glare had him trembling, fearing what she might do next. Helena felt that fear. Had the queen claimed her lover? Was she to truly lose her happiness now? Was fate so cruel? “Your friends will need medical care. That elbow could have broken more than his nose, and your other buddy smacked his head pretty hard.” Kya added, concern filtering into her expression for a microsecond before she turned. With the grace and confidence of a Queen, she strode over to the first man, her dress fluttering around her knees like wisps of shadows and silk. She leaned down towards the man, crouching so that she could speak directly to him. “If I ever hear you dared touch another soul without their consent, then you will no longer have hands.” Kya warned, her voice a tide of outrage tempered by her own compassion. Her hand upon him reminded him to stay down, but also touched with concern. Feeling how his heart rose to meet her palm. Despite his unfocused gaze, he afforded her his full attention, staring at her as if he was looking upon an Angel. No, not an Angel. A Valkyrie of Nordic legend. A guide to the lost heroes, the one to guide their souls to peace. Helena understood, for she gazed in utter devotion. This Kya was a new creature, one embodying her soulmate, channelling Helena’s protective energy in a uniquely Kya way. Helena couldn’t help but smile, to grace her protector with an approving twitch of her lips and a nod. Kya was not the Queen, nor did she continue her violence when it was not in defence. She had picked up arms in this moment so Helena would not. So Helena did not have to. Just as Kya had promised, she protected Helena’s peace. Kya rose after a few more moments, stony eyes softened to gems as she gazed upon Helena. The Valkyrie extended her hand, fingers imploring Helena’s to weave between them with a silent little wiggle. Helena, a lost soul if ever there was one, was helpless to do anything but reach, to accept the hand offered to her. With the softest of smiles, she entrusted herself entirely to her soulmate, her Valkyrie, trusting that if Kya was not her peace then at least she would lead Helena there.

[midnightbookclub93]

7 reasons why you should watch WandaVision right now

The first advent of the Marvel Cinematic Universe into the world of online streaming, WandaVision is a magical blend of classic television and the larger than life superheroes we have come to love. The series opens with Wanda Maximoff and Vision living a seemingly blissful life in 1950s suburbia, following the events of Avengers:Endgame. How did they get here? Why is Vision still alive? I promise you, the answers aren’t what you’re expecting!

Here are 7 reasons why you should watch the show and find out for yourselves -

1.     A homage to TV through the decades

Every episode places our favourite superhero couple in the sitcom trope of a new decade, including The Dick Van Dyke Show, Bewitched, Full House, Malcolm in the Middle and the more recent The Office and Modern Family. And what’s more, it all makes complete sense in the end! Director Kevin Fiege’s decision to explore Wanda’s grief through different sitcom eras was a risky one, but that is what sets this show apart from the very beginning.

2.     Incredible musical score

The musical intelligence of this show extends from Cristophe Beck’s weekly scores, which range from bouncy 60s sitcom music to the short instrumental opening themes of today’s television; interspersed with a common four note motif, the variables of which appear throughout the show. The theme of every episode is familial, yet singular to the decade it belongs to. Oh, and “Agatha All Along” is a certified bop.

3.     Chemistry between Olsen and Bettany

Wanda and Vision’s relationship was touched upon in Captain America:Civil war and Avengers: Infinity War. However, in the grand scheme of things (what with the world coming to an end), this dynamic mostly remained unexplored and before the audience or Wanda herself could come to terms with it, Vision sadly dies. This series allows the two unlikely lovers to shine like never before, just like Wanda always envisioned it.

4.     Origin Story Of the Scarlet Witch

Throughout the Avengers timeline, Wanda has never been referred to as The Scarlet Witch, her comic book moniker. Though we had an inkling as to where Wanda gets her powers from ( covert experimentation on humans conducted by Hydra), this series explores in depth the origin and scope of Wanda’s powers. In other words, this show is the perfect origin story for the most powerful witch in this dimension.

5.     Kathryn Hahn all along

Kathryn Hahn plays Agnes, a central character living in the same town as Wanda and Vision, and often helping them out of sticky situations. She seems to have their best interests at heart, or does she? Every quirk of this character is played out endearingly by Kathryn, and she emerges as the most memorable actor among the talented ensemble. She even has a catchy theme song all about herself! All in all, based on the viewers’ appreciation of her character, we can expect to see more of her in forthcoming Marvel projects.

6.     Stellar script

Whether it’s the dialogue, the structure or the aesthetic, the screenwriters have produced an extraordinarily unique yet relatable script. In a poignant flashback, Vision says to Wanda - “ but what is grief, if not love persevering?” This memorable phrase delivered perfectly by Paul Bettany is an apt delineation of the theme of this series. The writers touch upon loss and grief expertly and delicately, and that is what makes the show so heartbreakingly beautiful.

7.     Closure for Wanda

From being experimented on by Hydra to losing her brother in Sokovia, Wanda has undoubtedly had a tough life. She seemed to have found an unlikely partner in Vision, until he was killed by Thanos. Wanda herself vanishes after Thanos’ snap. When she returns to defeat Thanos with the Avengers, she has absolutely no loved ones left on the earth. This series gives her a semblance of the life she so badly wanted with Vision, but couldn’t get. Wanda begins to come to terms with her grief as the show progresses. She realizes that she is a powerful factor in this multiverse, even if her sitcom paradise was temporary.

This nine-part Disney+ series is unlike any other Marvel superhero project. The top-notch acting, the delightful cameos and the intriguing Easter eggs will have you glued to the screen and leave you wanting for more!

[trickstercaptain-archive]

14 / 15 / 16 / 25 –– for the 'Not from the US' meme!

the rule britannia meme | accepting! | @scavengered

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

      hell yes. british tv is amongst the best in the world and I’m not even exaggerating when I say that ( just look at the number of british shows, or shows filmed in the uk, this hellsite fawns over on a daily basis ). I definitely watch much more british tv than I do american stuff. british cinema is a bit more hit or miss, but some of my favourite films are smaller british ones.

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

       compare the meerkat dot com. oh eight hundred double oh, ten sixty-six. the price of freddos. RIP WOOLIES. to me to you. mr. blobby ( this one’s for jen ). graham norton’s snarky eurovision commentary. these are all things that, alongside a cheeky nandos with the lads, only we get to enjoy and it’s beautiful.

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

      the ( usually american ) belief that we all live in london or we all talk either like the queen or dick van dyke. this annoys me especially in hollywood films omfg it’s like there’s nothing else interesting about us aside from that. we have so many different regional accents and such a varied culture. but yeah. hollywood reducing us to one singular trait really gets on my nerves lmfao.

       as for stereotypes that I agree with, definitely our fascination with the weather and queueing. we are obsessed. the AMOUNT of times I stand at bus stops and the first thing complete strangers will start talking to me about is the weather. and it’s pretty much ingrained in us to form a queue when there are multiple people waiting for something. and you will get so many passive aggressive looks if you jump the fucking queue I stfg. 

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

        I don’t mean to be patriotic, but absolutely not lmao. for all its flaws, I count myself as incredibly lucky that I was born in this country, not least because when everything else goes to shit, at least we still have our sense of humour :’)

[stardatextoday]

So I've stayed quiet long enough and I think I'm finally ready to talk about my feelings and my reaction to the story that's been circulating about the ridiculous reaction to the radio cutest couple contest. I was not expecting this to go viral, much less turn out in my favor so much. I never realized that after being a safe space for so long, that i in turn get to feel safe as well. my wife's job prevents her from being on the phone during the day and lately she's been very overwhelmed checking in at the end of the night so I think that I'll be the one to talk about this. Plus we all know that I am the extrovert of the two and I'll talk about anything. When I dropped the collage of our photos in the comment section of the radio contest, I knew that there would be some sort of lackluster reaction to it. But society has progressed AND it was our anniversary so i was full of happiness. Once i entered, I forgot about my the contest for quite a bit of time I didn't even realize people have voted for me until i got tagged in something My wife and I have been together for eight years. eight years. that's close to a decade. We are so full of love and positivity that we have made it our mission to take that overflowing love and share it with other people. We are inclusive, we listen, we sympathize, and we are a safe haven for everyone who has ever met us. I thought that by entering a normally very heteronormative traditional contest, that at least one same-sex couple could see it and remember that they are just as valid as other couples. Being married to a woman doesnt make me more or less bisexual, so my orientation shouldnt matter. I didn't expect to win, honestly, i didn't expect even make it into the contest. I'm used to seeing discrimination like that in everyday life and I would've understood if the radio station had chosen the way the traditional way to avoid conflict- even if it would have been exclusionary. However it's 2017 and times are changing. I don't expect the runner up with the poor attitude. (I blocked him almost immediately so i dont remember his name) to understand what its like to go outside and fear for your life when your partner grabs your hand. Did you stand at the courthouse trembling when the registrar asked why my wife was changing her name? No, you didn't. You werent there when i bawled in 2012 because doing my 2011 taxes meant filing as single even though I had gotten a civil union on 11/11/11. Nevermind my legal marriage in 2012 or anything. No, you weren't there. Youll never have to be there. You wont ever have to explain your decisions to people. You dont have to face discrimination for your relationship. My marriage is so strong and so loving, and yet people still wish me dead for it. Ive been called a dyke since i was 11. Ive had it written on my desk, ive had it written in my own blood on the schools bathroom mirror after being assaulted in middle school. Ive been sexually assault because of it, and ive been denied opportunities because of my sexual orientation. I dont owe anyone these explanations but i just want people to understand that after years of being called things like a "fat dyke" those words mean nothing to me. In fact I embraced them. Not everyone is privileged enough to do that. I love being chubby. I really do. I spent years and years hating myself and honestly i have never felt more beautiful and honest with myself as i do now. Yeah, i spend my free time squatting and meal prepping, but you'd never know that because im just a "250# dyke" to you. (Bless you for thinking im only 250 lol) Im a fighter; anyone whos spent more than 15 seconds with me knows that I enjoy every single last drop of diversity, yes even your bigoted opinions. Why? Because your opinions based out of hatred just reinforce mine out of love (and a little spite honestly). Your hashtags are appalling. I was put on this planet to do far more than procreate, and honestly insinuating that people who arent fertile or cannot have children, are not people is dehumanizing and objectifying. You keep giving half-assed apologies about how your beliefs are solid, and honestly i dont give a singular shit. I think you're a petulant child who lost a local radio contest because your support is far less than mine. But, thats just my opinion. My opinions are not preventing you from anything, honestly. I still think you deserve basic human rights, even though you think far less for me My wife has come home every night, too anxious about safety and notoriety to do much of anything. I never wanted this to go viral, but honestly your terrible responses from YOU and YOUR BUSINESS are the reasons this spread like wildfire. I havent said anything other than the occasional "No, please don't mention my name in your article." You are upset that your name/address/and phone number were revealed but it was one google search away. If you didnt want to be public, try not being a public official. I have gotten so overwhelmed by the love and support given to my family. People i havent spoken to in years and people that i dont even know have reached out. Ive cried in public when people told me i gave them hope. I am no saint. I am just a fat bisexual girl who likes cats and black lipstick. Im supportive and kind, even my enemies will tell you so. I wish youd stopped to get to know me before trying to assimilate a biography from a collage in the comments of a local radio stations contest I hope you had a great Valentine's Day. I spent mine eating ice cream and singing songs while driving with my wife. Hopefully someday you understand that opinions are kind of like umbrellas- everyone should have them but theyre not always necessary. Feel free to share this and tag anyone whos been involved, i would like for this to be the last of this drama tbh. http://wqad.com/2017/02/15/henry-county-board-member-attacks-lesbian-couple-sparks-facebook-fire-storm/