#femrage

[coco-romcom]

Pain tolerance

Women have higher pain tolerace than men, it´s just how they are build!

no its not

The first time i felt pain i was six years old, at a hair salon, the hair dresser tried with heat and strength to erease all of the curls in my head, erasing the memory that there ever was a wave, i cried and my mom told me how pretty i looked. She took me there every week for months.

The second time i felt pain i was twelve, I had really bad acne, mom took me to the doctor and he gave me creams that burned my skin and recomended me a lady with not so gentle hands that squeezed all the gunk off my face until i had no tears left to cry. I went once a month for years, and the creams were my prayer every night that didn´t let me sleep, until the acne went away.

The thirtd time was more constant, more chronic, my shoulders sinked with the burden of womanhood, my back hurts as my chest got heavier with the expectation of femininity. and there was nothing i could do about it, im still in pain.

The fourth time i though it was wrong, it coudnt hurt that much, it was supposed to be enyoiable, but the only one enyoing is him, i let it slide the first time, i thougth it was his fault, then the second with a different one, and the third too, all the same. by the fourth you just get used to it

We are not build with pain, we are raised with pain.

We are born in pain, raised with pain and give birth in pain, all of it and then pretend that its nothing.

its not build in us, its forced in us

[ccdhc]

23:52

é muita coisa na cabeça. nao consigo parar de pensar. é presente, passado e futuro. futuro nao tao distante, passado não tao longe, presente nao tao perto e muito menos constante e seguro. as vezes eu so queria desligar. sao os medos. medos. medos que parecem grandes (talvez realmente sejam, mas me recuso a aceitar), medos que ainda nao conhecem o caminho da minha mente, mas sabem caminhar nela. sao 23:52 e eu nao consigo dormir porque nao tenho um grupo conciso de amigos, nao me identifico com ninguém, sou muito boa em tudo mas nunca sou boa em nada. Tenho saudade de um passado que acabou de passar. mas não é porque tenho saudade que eu voltaria para lá. Me sinto uma borboleta em meio de jacarés. interpretem como quiserem. todas as interpretações estão certas.  Só queria ser menos “sabe tudo”, menos única, menos chata, menos madura, menos crítica, menos estúpida, menos eu. Quero poder ser quem eu sou sem ser julgada. admiro a autenticidade do meu pai, mas ele também acabou sozinho no final. Quero me reconhecer ao me olhar no espelho, queria lembrar da minha infância (parece que foi em outra vida), quero comer sem me preocupar em colocar tudo pra fora instantes depois, quero gritar, quero ser uma adolescente burra, ordinária e sem sal, que nao sabe quem foi kafka e muito menos freud. quero me reconher nas minhas fotos de infância. Eu amo coturnos, magreza, meus olhos com sombra escura e meus cabelos longos e extremamente lisos, minhas unhas pretas, minha jaqueta de couro. é muita coisa na cabeça. Quem sou eu? Quem eu sou? Medo? Fúria? Cansaço? Incerteza? Certeza? Fim? Começo? Picada? Antídoto? Paz? Guerra?. Nao sou nada. Sou o vazio que sinto. Sou a luz do por do sol indo embora, sou a dor do prazer, sou o gelo que queima. São 23:52. é muita coisa na cabeça.  -autoral. 

CH. 

[braejameson-enby]

I did this Pomegranate and Serpent painting and just had to add it to my Redbubble shop. I love how a lot of the designs turned out. It was inspired by a lot of deep feminine rage and i know a lot of people will get it. Check out the link to my shop! https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/163525321?asc=u

[lopposting]

[mcswoon]

McDoon's stomach is pressed to the grassy ground, hands wrapped firmly around the bars of the small half-window that laid in the ground and building. It looked into a cell within the jailhouse basement, a cell occupied by @femraged. She was peering up at him with large brown eyes, her own hands around the bars as well. Their fingers laced and layered, connecting. He gives a tug of the bars as if they'll budge, but they don't. They don't even wiggle in the slightest indicating they're stuck pretty firmly in place within the brick building. He curses under his breath and he turns with intention to say something to Cletus, but stops when he feels her hand release one of his touch his cheek. The gentle touch drew his eyes and head back to her, mouth going dry as he waits to hear what she's going to say.

❛ forget about me and save yourself. please. ❜

The hissed whisper stills him, eyes widening and heart dropping to his stomach. He shakes his head and quickly furrows his brow, forcing a look of frustration onto his face. His hand comes up to take hold of hers and gives it a squeeze. He whispers back in the quiet, "I ain't about to leave without ya, Kate." A shaky breath and he licks his lips, rubbing them together after before speaking again, "I think it's a little too fuckin' late to be banking on my ego wanting to save itself over you." That was a confession. He knew it was, but at the moment she was set to hang the next day. There was no getting around that if he couldn't get her out before then.

He could hear Cletus hiss some warning behind him, but rather than break away from where he's laying on the ground... he stays. He stays with a long look at Kate, stomach twisting around the heart still sunk within it, "We're both gettin' out of this town." He said it quietly then turned his head, lips brushing her palm for a delicate kiss. He held the touch then muttered, "I'm going to get you out of this."

[mcswoon]

Kate rounds the corner and relief touches his chest, shoulders relaxing. He quirks a brow at her mention of his legs and the stirrups, eyes dropping to them. It was definitely suited for her height not his and though he could still ride the mare fine... he didn't wanna argue. Not to mention she'd just saved his ass. Who was he to question any of it? So he just snorts a sound, rolling his eyes a little and shifting to scoot back. His feet leave the stirrups and he settles on the back end of the saddle, one hand releasing the reins in order to offer it to Kate. He knew she'd take the outstretched hand to get on the horse, but he waited... small smirk pressing to his lips, "You don't seem to mind it when we're wearin' less clothes."

He knew he was poking a bear he shouldn't with her rescuing him and all, but he couldn't help it. He liked to get on her nerves and under her skin. Enjoyed getting to tickle her ego and pride to see what she'll do. She was a woman who was in control of herself and most of the things around her, but he knew she could melt. He knew she could easily become putty in his hands. She'd done it over and over again.

kate was ushered back into the lobby of the jailhouse, but of course, that was only met by the guidance of the sheriff who thought he could be some knight in shining armor to her. now, darlin'. maybe this is for the best. you don't need to get mixed up with trouble. a shudder ran down her spine when the man brushed her hair from her shoulder, and it took everything in her not to whip out the revolver kept on the inside of her jacket and tell him who was really in charge here. but she needed to get out. she needed to meet up with mcdoon, who she could only hope was finding his way out.

she thanked him and promised him she'd remember that before she slipped out of the jailhouse, her face falling into a disgusting grimace as her body gave a full shudder. she was grumbling unpleasantries under her breath as she rounded the corner, finding mcdoon already atop her mare, beauty, and waiting on her.

" those long legs might get a little cramped in my stirrups, " she teased with a twist of her lips, giving an upward nod of her chin. " scoot y'self back. neither beauty nor i like a man tellin' us what to do -- "

[r1pleys]

🍒 @femraged

@femraged where do i start with my love for kori ? i am in constant awe of the way she pours out love so endlessly. not just for her friends, but for her occupation, and everyone around her. she has one of the biggest hearts and it's such a beautiful thing ! she is a constant beam of sunshine in my life and i am ever so grateful to have her as a best friend. since day one she has been nothing but kind. she's been there for me in some of the toughest moments of my life and i can say with all certainty , if it wasn't for the friendship and kindness i don't know where i would be without her.

kori is an angel and we are all so lucky to have her. i know that things haven't been easy for her lately, but she's making it through with such grace and that takes so much strength and perseverance. i hope she knows daily how appreciated she is for being such a beautiful soul. she is one of the most amazing individuals not just on this hell site , but in this universe ! and i am so lucky to be able to call her a bestie. i love her so , so much and hope that she is having the most amazing night.

[whereskori]

blog roll master list :

@bykori : 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑖𝑥𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒 @beaniestm : 𝑒𝑚𝑚𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑠, ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑 / ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑟 @femraged : 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛' 𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑜𝑤, 𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛 & 𝑚𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑛 @hereslucille : 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑 @hackrgrl : 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑚�� / 𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑙

[4uru]

Man. Go watch Bulbul on netflix. Just do it. Bc i am sick and tired of being the only one to ramble about this movie. Ekta maal banaise maal. Mane srsly bhai ja pls-

(Femrage, violently killing rapists and pedophiles, horror, witches / churails, desi rural legends/mythology, social commentary on child marriage) JUST GO AND WATCH IT U COWARDS-

[whoneedsgodwhenyouhavejkrol-blog]

I think I know how the Marauders Map ended up in Filch’s office.

Filch had been at Hogwarts under the title of Caretaker from approximately 1973, which was - coincidentally - two years after the Marauders begin their residency at Hogwarts themselves. Rather than being the long-suffering if torture-obsessed squib that most of us think of him as, I recently read @wizardlogic and his art history purist version of regular old Filch which I LOVE>>>>

Anyway, I know HPWiki goes on to theorise that it was Snape (subtle) who was the ultimate betrayer of the magical map and passed it into the hands of an otherwise controlling and under-qualified abuser. I seek to dispute this with a possibly projective, emotionally strung and fairly assumptive rebuttal. Thank you fo reading thus far. *High five*

As much as the word  a l w a y s  still brings more than a single tear to my eye, I feel strongly for every single woman who’s had a beloved friend abuse their relationship by pressing unwarranted feelings, leaned into a dangerous vice or group of friends against better judgement, been fighting their own demons without succumbing to the “dark side” of this friend and even been willing to lay down their life to help them only to be hurt. 

Hurt people hurt people you know? I know these people. These people have hurt and maybe even scarred me. I still love these people. It’s a soft spot you want to protect. You want to protect them. It literally NEVER ENDS. You know the theory that at the time of their murder, Lily was pregnant? You know that same theory that says Lily and Severus had made a tentative amends and he was named godfather of the new little fluttering snitch in Lily’s womb? That’s what I mean! It’s like no matter whether Snape was  turning a new leaf, or being manipulative, or if he was being manipulated by others - any sincerity no matter how manufactured, would have worked on Lily. She had so many well-intentioned sister inclinations that were being unfulfilled by a sister who had cut her out, she had such a strong need for family, and Snape was her family too, no matter how poorly he treated her it would be the same way Lily would have forgiven Petunia in an instant. It’s why we love the Marauders, but we love the Marauders plus Lily even more. 

Family isn’t always nice. They know the boundaries with each other. They know when breaking them will hurt; like Mudblood spilled across the grass. We may not have ever met her in the pages of Harry Potter’s life properly - she wasn’t even 22 years old when she died - I’m no doubt projecting, but I know that fiery red-head wouldn’t have let the embarrassment of that nerve-edged afternoon go without her own kid of punishment. At the time of the big fight we remember from the flashback James’ threat of removing Snape’s undergarments (another trans-theory I have a particularly fond affinity for) - we remember Lily’s disgust at being blackmailed into saving her friend from any further humiliation, and then her heartbreak and anger at being attacked in a different way - from an unlikely source hanging in her mind in wait for her defence. She’s sure to recover, the word isn’t new and she’s very familiar with the new crowd her friend is spending more and more time around. It’s only a gut feeling and it’s NO WHERE NEAR the kind of horrific return of the not distant-enough fear of Grindelwald’s dogma which would have seen her family enslaved and herself treated possibly with a kind of suspicion that was really a very real metaphor of the same Cold War we were  experiencing in the muggle world. She was scared but not scared enough. She felt responsible not only for Snape’s treatment but also by his downward spiral - possibly a metaphor for the same depression Jo tried to inspire with a Dementor literally years later. 

Lily is a loving, empathetic but more importantly, a JUST person. Remember that her most defining quality is being a Gryffindor - they are just, they don’t care about rules - they care about justice. Lily is the one person who feels that she can see both sides - both faces of Severus Snape, a boy she loves fiercely like a brother, who she feels responsible for, who she feels a familiarity which entitles her to serve  justice not just to him - but also in his defence. Remember she might have a strong and loving friendship already with Lupin/Sirius (and Peter? Very little fanfic seems to be written on THAT potential character-shattering-death-induced-heartbreak???) *BUT* she still has a pretty big wall up ready for James, a boy who is not just partaking in an adolescent rivalry with a brother she cares deeply for, but a sensitivity for a version of herself, who misses her sister and who resides, without her obvious realisation, in this child-hood friend.

Lily has never been afraid of anything except the fear of losing those who she loves, and even then she was a force to be reckoned with which I’m sure we can all agree with. How else to truely reap the kind of justice she was seeking on behalf of her friend, no matter how estranged, but to weasel her way into the perpetrator’s life and find a truely sweet way to punish his emotional abuse of her? It may have been the 70s, but women have held a sort of collective rage at being expected to resist the urge to react with whatever indifference, hurt, pain or disgust felt from unwelcome advances because of society especially in public for long enough that I’m surprised we don’t all sport red hair as metaphor to this collective furnace of rage building within. Asking her to date him in lieu of her friend’s public humiliation? She would definitely be going one better. She already had a hunch that there was a secret between those four boys and she was too controlling of her own emotions to allow the hurt of that w o r d to get in the way of her scheming. All she would be doing was exacting the same justice that James whateverthehellwasinthatfuckingmessofhair’shead Potter deserved.

It didn’t matter that she couldn’t yet imagine a future where she would speak to Severus again, it didn’t matter that James’ best friends were boys she too had begun to think of as her own friends. It frankly didn’t cross her mind that what they were doing was protecting each other with this thing they were obviously hiding, let alone protecting only one in their midst. O H NO. She was single minded to the point of clarity. Only one would be going down and she had just the womanly wiles to get this job done.

[transexualpirate]

transphobe blocklist prototype!

sorry it isn't very organized. those are just some of the most repetitive people that we've seen on transgenz, spilling terf rethoric and some of them even go as far as to raid people's blogs. some of these are also racists orbiting radblr.

if you think you shouldn't be on this list, please feel free to come to my dms. but be reasonable. start a CIVIL conversation, or don't bother.

@fuckthepope @fuckthepope1534 @terfery @searchingforproofsthatimwrong @garden-owler @yourenotagirlbitch @terf-scorpion @radmista @sickerbook @bullydyke @kirby-with-feet @sendmenubes @pro-woman-princess @dilsency @profetens-apenbaring @pearlsofmind @finnishrogue @femsolid @ms-gay-frogs @partycitywigsale @outlawmen @mattsnightmare3 @fuckgender2 @menalez @sapphicshinigami @overtterfistry @gnc-centric @iamxueyang @magnetictapedatastorage @radgoblin @radkindoffeminist @terfiewerfie @dykeyuu @piquegender @desaturated7 @bisexual-slime @misgenderer @kiefbowl @fox-steward @hmm-uteri @femrage @radicallyaligned @saramonasaid @trans--receipts @someone-will-remember-us @redviolence @womented @jcanofarc @terfdabi @cisallogayreformed @radfemcore @kuhweerz @rudetehm @angrylandblaze @tetraterezi @lilleisak @officially-dykemarching @tehm-ally @honzo-main @gaggot @harringtn @twoxliberation @femalebrained @geoffscrabshack @ivegotnothingbettertodo @penisfingerz @radc2 @apostle-of-sapphos @dangan-fruit-can @zh0re @missouriangothic @fakeboitherottengirl @acid-mommy @asenaries @cisnip @darcy-of-europe @chromosoid @probablyaterf @traumatizer @slavichoodrat @shid @celtyradicalfem @greymatter1982 @greymatter-1982 @girlsfrommars @strawberryessentialoil @barbiesplasticsurgeon @19-16 @biologyisaterf @miss-shorty @byyourladyhell @blossominribcage @e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e

stay safe out there, y'all.

[mcswoon]

They're laying in the post glow of having just tangled up in his tent. The two of them having crawled into it shortly after battling each other for dominance in a kiss. It wasn't different from most nights since it started-- the two of them always falling into one tent or the other. Why they continued to put up three was beyond him, but he didn't question. He assumed it was some sort of desire to show the independence she still had with this trio. He and Cletus may be a duo, side by side, but she was stand alone. She didn't need either of them and yet... here she remained. He often wondered if that had anything to do with her chase of finding her ex-lover's killer, but... he didn't ask. He stopped asking questions about Sam and Trout when she started aiming a gun at him figuratively. Her words shooting holes through him whenever he tried to understand more than what she'd already shared. But while that part existed.. so did another. A part of him that wondered if she stuck around because of him.

See, now, you're probably wondering why the likes of a Bandit King would care what a woman thought of him, but that's where your business snooping stops. McDoon isn't going to get into the reasons he thought she stuck around because of him. If he did? He'd have to start admitting she was encroaching on his own thoughts and soul. That she was more than just another bandit he ran with, that their kisses and touches held weight. He didn't want to admit that. Couldn't. Wasn't in his nature. Maybe his thoughts, but not his being. He could often daydream or fantasize about a life without all the robbing and stealing, but that wasn't who he was. McDoon was a bandit. An outlaw. A man forever on the fucking run. He wasn't allowed to feel anything substantial for anyone.

None of them were. Not even Kate. She'd chosen a life where she couldn't feel that again, right? She'd lost the one man she'd loved and turned to a life of this. Whatever this was for her. Bandit. Criminal. Killer. He didn't question it, but he wondered. He had so many curiosities pertaining to her and most of them were things he knew would never get answered. Maybe that was for the better though. Perhaps the life she was trying to live in turn beside them was one she only wished to be known for. But despite whatever she was doing-- she still chose to roll around with McDoon.

All of these thoughts were buzzing and brewing, repeating over and over the words she'd just uttered to him as they laid there. He could still hear the crackle of the fire that was slowly going out and he was almost certain he heard Cletus move around in his tent. But McDoon's thoughts were running rampant trying to catch up and ensure he'd heard her right. Had he?

tell me you love me … i won't hold you to it, just say it.

She's laying against his chest, her cheek pressed to his hammering heart that he was sure she could hear. He could chalk it up as being because of what they'd just done, but truly? Really? The sentence spoken into the world was one he'd never been asked of before. No one's ever asked him to say that let alone feel it, but here she was telling him he could say it and that there wouldn't be weight. That all she needed were the words spoken out into the universe, but that was the thing with McDoon. He'd never actually said those words out loud, not even when he's charming his way from bed to bed. He's never lied or misled with words of love. He gave promises, empty ones, but never anything that would proclaim something like that.

He blinks, eyes on the roof of the peaked tent and body rigid. He'd gone stiff under her-- could she sense that too? His hand on her arm, his own wrapped around her, was gently stroking her skin with his thumb. The action now paused. His other hand on his stomach twitching and slowly curling into a fist, short nails digging crescent shapes into the palm of his hand. He needs to say something. He needs to speak up and let her know whether or not he can or can't do that. But why wouldn't he be able to? It was easy to say three words, easy to lie.

But was it a lie?

"Kate, I... " he finally starts, breath swallowing and chest lifting with a deeper breath. He shakes his head a little then lifts it, allowing himself to look down at her even if she wasn't going to look at him. "I can't do that." He shifts, hand sliding from his stomach and moving so his elbow can press into the ground and he can carefully lift himself slightly. He rests on the elbow, eyes on her, "That ain't something to just be throwing around-- empty or not." He feels a weird tightness take over his chest, a sense of panic he's not used to, "Is that what you're lookin' for in this? Hearin' something that may not mean a damn thing? You can't be lookin' for this onion man in every fuck we share. I'm not him." He frowns, "And the way I feel about you holds its own weight." That was too much to say, too much to let on.

[mcswoon]

He didn't think they'd be holding onto the woman for as long as they were, but it'd gotten to the point that he could trust her out of her bindings. She wasn't going anywhere. She had nowhere to go. She was staying with them at this point because it was them or the wolves stalking the woods. He believed she was a spitfire, but it'd be hard to go up against a pack like that. Not to mention she was a school teacher. What could she do to protect herself? He was pretty sure she'd never held a gun before in her life.

The night previous he and Cletus were in an argument about going to Green Lake. McDoon having received a telegram on the last trip into a town giving him a date when to deliver the woman. He'd get paid for it. God, would he get paid for it. There was a handsome amount of cash waiting for both of them, cash he and Cletus both wanted. The latter wanting it for more reasons than he was letting on to, but if McDoon paid attention it'd be because of how often the Bandit King is looking at the woman. His dark eyes trailing her frame whenever she's faced the other way, hungry lick of his lips usually following. Couldn't blame Trout Walker for wanting her.

When he woke that morning he was none the wiser to the papers he'd left out. He hadn't thought about it much and didn't until the moment she was throwing it at his chest. He didn't manage to catch the paper, watching it fall to the ground before turning to ask what she was doing. A sigh escaping his lips, but failing to change his features. The expression becoming stony and cold the moment his own gun was pointed at him. He looked between it and her, asking his question then listening to her bite back.

He steps forward confidently, ignoring the gasp that comes from Cletus as he slips out of his own tent. McDoon's upper lip curls as the barrel of the revolver presses square to his chest. "We certainly weren't keeping you around for the company," harsh words, but honest ones, "Can't sell you off when that was the plan all along, ma'am. He'd wanted you nabbed and we did that, now? Now we're simply bringing you home."

it had been five weeks since sam's death, and the grief was something that was a day - by - day process for kate. some days were easier than others, and those other days? they were crippling. days where she didn't want to get out of her cot because what was the point? the world was a cruel and hateful, and everything hurt. her heart . . . her body from sleeping on a glorified blanket on the hard ground at camp sites . . . her mind was she tried to process how cruel and hateful the world had come now that her bubble had burst.

one morning, she had woken up to find the cold chill had her body aching from the hard surface they had chosen for the night. she was up long before her captors mcdoon and cletus. they had some sort of plan brewing, something they would only give her cryptic responses to, but she knew they'd whisper. something about the weekend coming up. something about going back to green lake.

she had put on a pot of coffee grounds to steep over the campfire she had lit when she noticed the breeze flick at some papers mcdoon had left behind when he went into his tent for the night. curiosity got the best of her as she reached out to grab the folded paper, and she instantly recognized the messy scrawl. she had been trying to decipher this handwriting at her adult night classes before everything fell apart.

coast is clear. you can hand me over barlow and receive your remaining half on sunday.

trout walker

something started to boil inside of kate as she stared down at the letter. the past five weeks . . . the kidnapping, the slowly getting to know mcdoon and cletus . . . it had all been a set up. she was a product to buy by trout walker. she was going to belong to him come sunday.

she belonged to no one.

she snarled when she heard the tent flap open and threw the letter angrily at @mcswoon's chest when he appeared, slipping around him to stomp over to his tent, where she started to rummage around. when he started to question her, she whipped around, pointing his revolved at him and thumb knocking back the hammer. her eyes were cold as they glared daggers through him, glistening silver around the edges.

❛ what , you’re gonna shoot me ? ❜

her hand trembled where she kept the gun pointed at him, mouth set into a tight line. " death would be kinder than what i wanna do to you right now, " she growled. " you were hired by trout?! you're gonna sell me off to him?! "

[r1pleys]

listening to @femraged try to explain anime scenes to @mcswoon and myself without knowing any of the context is killing me.

[skywalkersays]

hey uh dont want to start anything but i see that youve reblogged anti terf posts in the past so i figured id let you know the blog femrage is a terf and has posted some really hateful and unfair things about trans women

thanks for letting me know. deleted it. i cant keep up with these people

[orivu]

I hate to be that person but that femrage blog talking about OF is a terf. That post got pinged by my filters and it didn’t take me long scrolling on their blog to see them reblogging from other terfs :-(

oh shit :< thanks for telling me!!