#not just the men but the women and the children too

[nerdylibertarian928]

Wow, you're stupid, i'm a libertarian, not libertine, there's a difference. Tell me you never went through my blog without telling me you never went through my blog.

1. Libertarians believe in life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as long as long as innocents are hurt, and sex crimes hurt kids. How dare I be pro-life when I, a mentally disabled woman, have been used to justify abortion? Guess, what, abortion benefits men more than women because men are allowed to use women for sex without consequence and can just convince a woman to abort and leave her to deal with the fallout of it. Just look at Brittany Spears for example.

2. We wouldn't have shootings if bullied kids weren't punished for standing up for themselves while their tormentors never faced consequences. The fbi also likes to ignore when people try to warn them about a possible school shooter. Shooters like to attack where people aren't armed so they can't defend themselves. One of the popular ideas among conservatives/libertarians to stop shootings is to armed guards at schools. People are going to think twice about shooting up schools if they know they'll get shot if they try anything.

3. Israel is at full-blown war because on Oct. 7, 2023, they faced suffered the worst act of anti-semitism since the 1940's. Men killed, woman and children raped and turned into sex slaves, babies burned alive, and dogs killed too. Israel is the Jewish state, and its neighbors want them killed because just like you, they are antisemetic. Israel is by no means perfect, but religous minorities, women, and gays don't face persecutions there. For a group of people who want indigineous people to have their land back, y'all are pretty pissy when the Jews succeed at it. Israel tries to minimize civilian casualities, but terrorists like to use human shields to make idiots like you support their cause. Do not even say that propallies aren't antisemetic when y'all defaced Anne Frank's statue with graffiti twice.

like i know that legally they can't state a motive because they haven't gotten the guy but it's really funny to see news outlets say "the ceo of a health insurance company was shot with three bullets that say Fuck Health Insurance Companies. god only knows why."

[queerweirdness]

“You totally like Eddie!” Robin accuses him one day as they are sitting on the couch, just shooting the shit. She had come over to watch a movie but they got distracted talking about people from school. Apparently some little freshman boy had been continuously hitting on her, despite knowing he was a senior. They eventually got on the topic of how Eddie acts in school. Steve remembers the way he pranced on tables at lunch and flirted with the jocks everythime they made a comment about him. He has been friendly with Robin at school, considering he’s officially a part of their little monster slayer group after the events of spring break, going as far as to drape himself across her all dramatically after being given homework in their shared math class.

“I do not like Eddie. I like girls, Robin. You know this.” She has had to hear him lament about failed dates several times. 

“You can like both Steve. Bowie does. And I know how you talk about someone you like. You get a smile you can't shake off and this sparkle in your eyes. And you have it right now. Talking about Eddie.” Steve hated that she was right. He couldn't stop smiling. 

“David Bowie likes women?” 

“Stop deflecting. It's called bisexual. Do we need to have a crisis together or are you okay with knowing you like men?” They have been together for many crises. They were together through the nightmares that came with the upside down too. Steve can admit a man is hot. He figured that out during his very homoerotic friendship with Tommy Hagan. Fuck, why did he think Eddie was hot?

“I think I'm okay with liking men. I've had to deal with real life monsters. Men are fine. But I don't like eddie. He’s weird. His music is loud. I get migraines. And he's so energetic. Not to mention his aura will make you fail a drug test.”

“Yet you ditched movie night the other day to go smoke up with him. And everyone in your life is weird. I’m in band. I do drama. All of your children play dnd. I'm sure he would turn his music down if it meant making you happy. I've seen the way he looks at you. He likes you too.”

“Can you stop being right for once. Why did I fall for him? Out of all guys, him? At least he’s better than the last guy I liked. Tommy, Carol, and I were closer than friends.”

“You liked Tommy? Tommy Hagan?”

“Yeah yeah laugh it up. But he was cute. He had a bunch of freckles. Can you blame a guy?”

“I can blame anyone who dares to like a man. They are gross.” Steve doesn't have a good argument against that so he grows a pillow at her face. It of course gets chucked back at him which causes a pillow war.

[summerhuntresses]

the good man scorns

[ao3]

Same song, same dance, same smile and laughter and graceful wave everywhere she went. The bubble was beginning to feel like it was the only real thing in her life.

OR,

A glance into the mindset of a grieving good witch, during the celebration of a wicked witch's death.

~~~

No one mourns the wicked, indeed.

Same song, same dance, same smile and laughter and graceful wave everywhere she went. The bubble was beginning to feel like it was the only real thing in her life, buoying her from dream to dream as she spread the news of Elph- of the Witch’s death. It really was all starting to blur together, the faces of her fellow Ozians upturned to her so eagerly as they waited to hear the news she brought.

She could tell them anything, really. Part of her wanted to, just to see how long it would take before they realized she was lying. Would they realize the lie? The Wizard had been a terrible person, and Morrible worse yet, but they had been effective in their work. Oz had never been more docile, its communities less willing to think for themselves. El- The Witch had tried, flitting from town to village to sanctuary with her message of hope and truth and revolution, but she had been one person fighting an uphill battle against the tireless propaganda machine of the Emerald City. There had never been a chance.

There had never been a chance and Glinda had told her, said exactly that in the clock tower all those years ago. Oz, even the Wizard had told her! But no, Elpha- the Witch had had her morals, would never have aligned with the Wizard after he had revealed his deceit to her, even just for a short time. She would rather have martyred herself on the altar of her own resolve, uncompromising to the end.

Well, Glinda hopes she was happy when she died. She hopes she was happy as she burned, hopes that she found peace in the knowledge that she never betrayed her principles even as the whole world aligned itself against her. Glinda hopes her willful, stubborn shortsightedness brought her utter fucking bliss in the end, when she died alone and in agony with the entirety of Oz united in hatred against her and her cause.

Glancing down at the crowd clamoring beneath her, Glinda had to suppress a laugh that she knew would have come out far, far too jagged to be appropriate for the celebrations. The thought that any of the shamelessly naive Munchkinlanders dancing in the square would have the slightest idea of what it was the Witch had been doing was funny. She knew good and well that some of the people below her had known Elpha-

She breathed.

Some of the people below her had more than likely known Elphaba as a child, had been the ones who hurt her so badly she had come to Shiz with walls like a fortress insulating her from the world. It hadn’t mattered. It didn’t stop them from turning on her, condemning her, hating her. 

Was it you, she wondered. A handsome young Munchkin twirled a pregnant woman, laughing as they stepped on a ripped wanted poster. Were you the ones who threw stones at a child who had never done anything but want to be loved? A group of washerwomen chattered as they worked, dipping their hands into troughs stamped with instructions on precisely how to kill the Witch. Would you even remember if it was?

No, it hadn’t mattered a single bit. Once the Wizard told them to hate, they hated. Once Morrible told them to fear, they feared. Once Glinda the Good told them to celebrate, they laughed and cheered and danced like children.

She looked down at the sea of faces before her, men and women and children blending together until all she saw was a single being, one soul in many bodies that reached and grasped and pawed at her, desperate to be spoon-fed the honey-sweet cocktail of lies and fear and twisted truth that they had been gobbling up for years while saying ‘thank you’ and asking for more, please, always more.

Pain shot through her jaw where she had clenched her teeth, biting down on nothing as she forced herself to keep smiling. They were dragging something into the square- an effigy, she felt herself realize. A straw mockery of Elphaba, forty feet tall and adorned with the hat she had given her on the day Glinda had been seeing in her dreams for the last ten years. It took her a moment to see the sign hanging from her- from its neck, hateful words stark and black before her eyes. 

Kill the witch.

Well, Glinda mused, it’s a bit late for that.

There was a heavy, pounding pressure rising behind her eyes, fury and grief and despair blending together and urging her to do something that she knew she would regret. It felt a bit like one of Elphaba’s flying monkeys was trying to claw its way out from beneath her ribcage, claws rending and horrifying fangs tearing her delicate insides to shreds. It wouldn’t surprise her if she opened her mouth and blood came spraying out, mixing with the scream she had been holding in since that day at Kiamo Ko.

She kept smiling. A child gave her a flower to toss. She shook the hand of a young mother. The effigy rolled closer.

There was a kind of absentminded regret she was feeling, she realized, that she was so clearheaded in this moment. She spared a moment to wish that she could dissociate on command, could astral project, could use the Grimmerie to cast a single fucking spell that would help her not feel what was coming.

The effigy rolled closer. A man handed her a torch with a bow. Glinda felt white heat roll up through her bones and squeeze the air from her lungs, felt the insane urge to drop the torch and ram the pointed end of her wand into his eye, felt her knuckles go white.

She smiled, and threw the torch on the pyre.

Oh, she realized. I hate them.

She turned away, never letting her smile drop. Her entire body ached from how stiffly she held herself, but she could not make her muscles relax. She was still smiling, could feel the strain in her face, could see the Munchkinlanders light up with pride and joy and relief when they met her eyes.

It had been long enough, surely. The effigy would burn for hours and she had more stops to make on her impromptu tour of Oz. Much to do, she thought absently. The Palace alone would be hell to get under control, between rooting out Morrible’s spies and disbanding the Gale Force and squashing any residual Wizard sympathizers. She couldn’t spend her entire day standing in a backwater Munchkin village as they cheered the death of her- the death of the Witch.

As she stepped back into her chariot, hitting the button to form her bubble, she felt a faint shimmer of relief. Her younger self would laugh, she was sure, if told that one day she would become the most beloved ruler Oz had ever seen but would crave nothing more than solitude. 

Movement caught her eye, a young woman pushing her way to the front of the crowd. Glinda managed not to sigh, popping the bubble again. She had been so close to escaping these people, so close to blessed solitude away from- No, she cut herself off. Too far.

“Is it true you were her friend?” 

Glinda felt the air leave her lungs in a rush, the words landing like a sledgehammer.

The woman asked the question loudly, not shouting but projecting in a slow and measured way, obviously intending for the entire crowd to hear her clearly. The disgust in her tone was masked but still present, anger clear in her stance and the set of her jaw. A wave of gasps and horrified mutters swept through the crowd, people who had just minutes ago been laughing and smiling and bowing over her hand now staring judgmentally and with the stirrings of fear in their eyes.

“Friend?” Her voice was faint, memories rushing through her mind like a flood. Facing off in the courtyard. Dancing at the Ozdust. Running through the halls of Shiz. Lying in their shared room. Kissing on the train. Passing notes in class. Hand in hand, always hand in hand, attached at the hip, two parts of one whole- until they weren’t. Until that horrible, awful, nightmarish day where Elphaba had flown off the handle and flown off into the sky and left her behind because she was too stubborn, too moralistic, too good to stay.

Because Glinda was too cowardly, too selfish, too wicked to stay for.

“Friend.” She said the word slowly, tasting every letter as it left her lips. “No, not her friend.” The crowd breathed a sigh of relief, a single organism before her once more. The woman frowned, her mouth opening to say something else that Glinda didn’t care about. She continued, “They haven’t invented the words to describe what she was to me.”

She died for you, she thought but didn’t say. She died trying to save you and you burned her at the stake. 

The Munchkins were in an uproar but Glinda had no interest in soothing their feelings. Enough was enough. 

She tapped the button by her feet once more, sighing in relief as the bubble sprang into place and muted the furious clamor of the square. There were still six more stops on her tour, but she could get to them the next day. It was only an hour back to the Emerald City, and she was quite looking forward to taking a bath by herself and escaping the bleating of the sheep.

[icarus-suraki]

Hey. I'm 42 and female on government documents and, based on my experience as an unattractive/ugly woman, I kind of want to add some other nuance.

In my experience it's more like "She's 29 (or 30 or 45 or 60), but she's daring to exist publicly despite being Too Old and that's not acceptable." The attitude is that once a woman passes a certain age and/or level of attractiveness, she should retreat--into being A Mommy, or into her job (nothing too important of course), or into being a lonely spinster with too many cats. Withdraw yourself, is the message, because you're too old to be any good anymore.

Remember that quote from Dazed and Confused? "That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age." There's always someone younger and prettier on the way; women are disposable. If you have to exist past your expiration date, for the children or whatever, you'd better exist privately. No one wants to see you.

If you're "too old" and still in public view, you're drawing too much attention to yourself. You're whoring yourself out for attention and you don't seem to realize that you're doing it. lol cringe--shouldn't you be scrapbooking or something? (That is, shouldn't you have relegated yourself to the private domain?)

And, importantly, the commentary is meant to be a deterrent. If you won't disappear once you're past your "expiration date," then you deserve to be punished for daring to appear in public. If you're not fuckable, no one cares, and we will repeat it until you go away.

It's not quite that "this woman has served her purpose" because a "[cis-] woman's purpose" is to be a vessel for [cis-] men's desires--whether that be as muse, wife, sex object, decoration, helpmeet, whatever. And doing something like one's own art or poetry is not in support of a man's desires--a double-strike. You're really drawing attention to yourself then.

The other thing is that, frankly, some men don't seem to think that women have any kind of inner world or interior life, despite constantly being labeled as too emotional, hilariously. Like the guys with marble statues for Twitter icons who seem to think that emotion is raw reaction and detached observation is skill and only skill can be used to make art, idk. So poetry based on emotion experienced by a woman who is also "too old" to engage with the public world is just incredibly cringy to this sort of dudebro.

tl;dr: If you're not fuckable, you're cringe for existing and you should just go die lol

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.

[honeyxbunny99]

Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt.13

Anna shook you gently awake and you made a pout and a soft whimper escaped at the harsh reality break away from Sandor.

“The first house we see we’re going in it.” The man of your dreams spoke, already on his horse.

“Good morning.” You replied sarcastically, standing up and turning to face him, body still stiff from slumber. “And what if there’s someone inside the house?”

“That’s shit for him then I suppose.”

You barely had to help Anna onto her horse and afterward you began your approach to Stranger. “And if it’s a family? Don’t you think most single men are off in this war, dead or alive. We’re far more likely to come upon the family he left behind.” You proposed, securing your foot in the stirrup and attempting to smoothly mount Stranger with Sandor in the way. His hand graced your lower back as you swung your leg around and your heart beat quickened.

“Shit for them then.” He said as you adjusted yourself against his lap, and he tried not to let it excite him. You turned your head to look at him disapprovingly. “You don’t mean to just take someone’s home.”

“I do, and if they’re stupid enough to fight about it, I mean to kill ‘em.” He grinned, showing off his teeth.

You looked him up and down, mouth opening and shutting wordlessly before you turned around again with a sigh. What could you possibly say to him? Stranger began his stride away from the woods and you began to think.

Without turning around, you asked, “Do you really love killing?”

“That’s what they say, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s what they say… I’m asking what you say.”

“Yes.” He answered simply.

“Would you kill anybody?” “You’ve got someone in mind?” “Well no, I mean.. Anybody in a broader sense. Women, children, your family?”

“Suppose I already have.” Your heart sank at the thought.

“Would you do it again?..”

“If I need to… Anyone that stands against me must wish for death. And if we ever cross paths with my brother it’s my intention to kill him, or die trying.”

“You can’t say that.” You shook your head.

“I can and I will.” “Sandor we need you. You’re forbidden to die.”

He chuckled behind you. “Tell that to The Mountain. Even if he doesn’t have orders for it already, he’ll want to come teach his baby brother a lesson… If we cross paths with him I don’t think there’s anything you or I could say that would stop his cleaver coming down on my head.”

You cringed and turned slightly to catch a glimpse of him. “Has your brother always been evil?”

“What’s the start of all this anyways? Is this about that boy?”

“Boy?” The realization hit you as soon as the word left your mouth. “Charlie?” You faced forward again, uncomfortable with him seeing you all of a sudden.

“The one you love.” “I-“ you furrowed your brows and saw that Anna was listening to your conversation. “I do love him…” You said honestly.

“You’re wondering if I’d kill your boy if he’d got in the way.”

“I wasn’t… I try not to think about him at all, I’m sure you can understand that, being that you watched him die too.”

Sandor did not say anything for a long while and you tried to focus on the rolling hills to distract yourself. “Who was he to you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and closed your eyes, concentrating your breathing. “He was a great man..”

“He was a boy.” You shook your head. “He was both.. He was brave and kind, and bratty and..” you smiled softly back at Anna when you noticed she must have been reflecting on her own memories of him. “And he lived a very unfair life, and he died a very unfair death because of me… He should never have come back for me.”

“Why did he come?” “He decided we were leaving; us and Anna. I’m not sure how much of a plan there was after that,” you smiled a little, “he was a servant who’d spent his whole life in King’s Landing— didn’t know anywhere else, but he had enough sense in him to leave and take the people that he loved with him…”

You contemplated why Sandor was asking about him, if not only to deter from talking about his terrifying brother. The one you love, who was he to you? He’s jealous. “It wasn’t romantic if that’s what you’re wondering… Though I suppose in the end it wouldn’t have mattered anyways, huh? He was too young to love, I thought… Though he must have felt it in some way because he saved my life over and over again.. The only things he ever asked of me were to keep living, and to grant him a kiss. I fulfilled one wish, I intend to make my life count for him too.”

You looked back at Sandor to see his mouth twisted into a confused frown. “It’s a love like the one I feel for Anna. Trust, compassion, connection, feeling like you want to care for each other, make them feel safe and loved. Haven’t you ever loved someone like that? Your mother, or a best friend?” ~Haven’t you ever loved someone?~

“No.”

The simple word felt piercing. You continued on as if you weren’t devastated that he could not comprehend the feeling. “It’s probably the only love I’ll allow myself to feel ever again.” You looked at Anna, who was still watching you, tight-lipped in disappointment. “It’d be much safer to never love again, but I think I have a great capacity for it. I will always have some sort of love in my heart for my family, my friends, you.”

You swallowed the anxious lump in your throat. “I meant it back then when I said it to you… I know you think I’m some stupid girl, with fantasies of knights taking up space over logic, but it was true then. I’d never felt anything that strongly before, so I know it was love… But once was enough. The consequences of my heart being so open were enough to have closed it up to that kind of love ever again… So thank you for giving me that opportunity, and thank you for saving me… I hope you can learn to trust me, and that we can be allies from here on out. No more grudges.”

After your speech went unanswered, you blushed and began to play with strangers mane. “And I’ll stop talking now..”

~

It wasn’t much longer before Anna spotted a house and drew your attention to it. The three of you slowed, and you looked to Sandor for direction.

“It’s good.” He nodded, dismounting. “Stay with the horses.” He instructed. “But—“

“I don’t know how I can make it any clearer, woman.”

He began his stride without ever looking back. Your nerves intensified the closer he got to the house. You twisted the reins in your hands and chewed your lip, glancing at Anna and praying the home was empty. Sandor entered through the front door, sword drawn, and to your horror, only seconds later you heard a woman’s scream. The children were the first to stumble out, their mother close behind them, looking like she’d seen a monster. Sandor must have been searching the house as the mother held her children close, cowering on the grass. “My baby, please! My baby!”

Her cries pushed you over the edge and as you saw Sandor emerge with his sword still drawn, you grabbed the reins tightly and kicked the horse to drive you forward.

“Stop!” You begged, hoping you could stop the horse as Sandor always had. Sandor turned to look at you in shock and his sword even dropped a little. Stranger stopped roughly and you clenched your thighs to hold on. You were breathless with fear but when you saw Sandor up close you watched him roll his eyes and his stance became casual.

“You have a baby in there?” You asked the woman, who was beet red and had tears dripping off her jaw. She held her kids, a boy and a girl, closer to her chest, but the boy tried to step forward.

“It’s my brother!” He tried to be brave, but you could see the fear in his eyes.

You looked to Sandor again for confirmation, and he blinked slowly, as if disappointed, and nodded. You heard very faint wailing begin inside the home and your heart sank.

“Please don’t hurt us! Please don’t hurt my baby!” The mother trembled in horror, pulling her son back by his shirt.

“We’re not going to hurt you.” You assured. “We’ve got to find somewhere else. These children won’t make it to any town.”

Sandor’s eyes scanned across your face and then the faces of the family, and the crying from within the home intensified. You withheld a huff and walked up to him, placing yourself between him and the children. “Please, Sandor. Let’s keep going.” You pleaded with your eyes. He sheathed his sword and took a step toward the home.

“We’re staying here tonight.” He looked at you sternly before softening. “They can stay too.” You breathed a sigh of relief and turned to them to offer a smile. “Come and shut that baby up.” He said when he disappeared from your view.

The mother rushed in and you signaled to Anna to come down. Grabbing Stranger’s reins to tie him to the side of the home, you were alarmed to find the little boy right behind you. “You gonna kill us?” He asked. He couldn’t have been older than 7 or 8.

“No, we’re—.. We just need food and a place to sleep. We won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt us.”

“Yeah well you better be gone tomorrow. That’s when my dad’s coming home, and he’ll slice the lot of you. He doesn’t care if anyone’s bigger than him, he’s not scared of anything. You’ll see tomorrow!” He threatened before running off to find his mother.

You weren’t sure whether telling The Hound about this threat would help or hinder your situation. It was still midday; you were sure you could find another home before sundown. Your stomach growled and you heard the sound of brutish hands rummaging about in the kitchen. Tomorrow, we have to be gone tomorrow.

You entered the small home with Anna and were hit with a wave of nostalgia for your own upbringing. It was humble, darker than you expected, with its windows all boarded up, but it had food and drink on display and a fireplace to keep warm at night.

“Excuse me, sir, th-that’s my husbands…” the mother spoke up, bouncing her child in her arms.

Sandor continued to chug down a bottle of liquor and when he pulled it from his lips he smiled. “He’s not here, is he? And we’re your guests… You’d do well to keep your trap shut or you can all take your chances sleeping outside.”

Part of you wanted to argue with Sandor, but an indecent part of you knew that he was right. Her husband wasn’t here, and any chance you had to stay out of sight and get food in your bellies would be stupid not to take. Sandor was being generous to let them be so close to us, knowing they could attack or report.

“Make us a meal, woman.” He commanded.

Her eyes held spite but she still handed the baby off to her daughter and entered the kitchen with him. You tried to distract yourself from the hostile situation by trying to put the girl at ease. She sat in a rocking chair by the cold fireplace and watched you like a hawk as you sat down across from her on the floor.

“You’re very good with him..” you commented softly, and she looked at the baby in her arms. “I never wanted a brother… My father stunk so bad sometimes I thought that was just the fate of all boys.” You looked over at Sandor, who was resting his feet on the kitchen table and leaning back with his bottle, watching the woman work. “I think that I was right.” You turned up your nose and made a face and when you looked back at her she was trying to conceal a smile. “But you’re already used to having a brother, huh? An older brother, right?”

She nodded shyly. “I bet he’s protective over you. That might be nice to have, even if they stink.” “Is that your brother?” She looked to The Hound. You smiled and shook your head.

“He’s my hero.. Like a knight but better. You see his armor?” She nodded. “It’s all dirty because of what he had to do to save me… My friend Anna and I were locked up by some very bad men, and he didn’t like that so he had to kill them. He doesn’t want to be scary and mean but sometimes that’s what has to be done. But he won’t hurt you; we’re just gonna go to sleep here and then in the morning we’ll be gone, okay?”

She seemed to be sorting through questions in her mind as she looked at you. “My father has to kill people. He only kills bad people though, people that want to hurt us.” “Is he fighting in the war right now?” She nodded. “Yes but mama says only for a little while longer, and then he can come home and meet the baby.”

You smiled softly. “What’s the baby’s name?”

“Robert.” “That’s a nice name—“

“It’s my father’s name.” The boy surprised you again, having come out of his room and stood behind you with his arms crossed.

“And your name?”

“Robert.” He furrowed his brows.

“All three of you?” You raised your expression in surprise.

“My name is Beth!” The girl chimed in drawing your attention again.

“Well I should hope so, you look a little too pretty to be named Robert.”

She smiled and bit her tongue to hold back a laugh.

“My name is (Y/n).” Beth’s eyes lit up and she gasped. “That’s my doll’s name!” “Shut up.” Robert said, clearly annoyed at how freely she was speaking to you now. “Take the baby!” She demanded, trying to stand up to hand him off. They argued like siblings until he rolled his eyes and took his baby brother, still glaring at you while Beth ran off to find her doll. “Here she is, (Y/n)! Isn’t she, mama, isn’t she called (Y/n)?!” She showed off her straw doll and the mother nodded at her with a nervous expression.

“Have you got a doll called Anna?” You asked, and Anna smiled. The little girl shook her head and you threw up your hands. “Well we’ll just have to make one then, won’t we?” The three of you raced outside and gathered as much straw as you could, dropped it on the table and crafted little dolls all afternoon. You asked Robert, still holding baby Rob, if he wanted to join you but he sneered. “Dolls are for girls.” “We could make one a soldier, like your father?”

He shook his head and walked away. None of you minded much, though, and you felt true happiness teaching Beth how to give her doll a skirt. You felt like a child again. The mother called for supper and you all cleared the table. You told Beth that she could have her chair back, but she insisted on sitting with you. The two of you shared the same seat, Sandor sat at the head of the table, the son across from you and Anna at your side. The mother went off with her baby into the bedroom to nurse and you tried to ignore the tension between Robert and Sandor as you ate. Beth pulled you by your neck down to whisper loudly in your ear. “He’s better than a knight?” She asked, and you blushed knowing the everyone at the table could hear. You nodded and looked at Sandor, willing him to be kind. Beth hopped off of the chair and brought her dolls to Sandor, holding them out to display. “This is (Y/n) and this is Anna.”

Your nails dug into your palm anxiously and you held your breath waiting for his response. Please be kind, please be kind.

Sandor looked at the sweet little girl’s face, and then at the dolls, taking them in his hands.

“They’re pretty.” He complimented, surprising you. “Can I keep this one?” He asked, pulling the doll with your name close to his chest. Beth quickly tried to snatch the dolls back and said, “No!.. If you want one you can have the one I messed up on.” He gave the dolls back and she rushed over to the living room to offer him the doll with one big arm and one small. “She hasn’t got a name so you can call her whatever.”

“Think I’ll call her Beth.” He nodded and her mouth gaped.

“My arm’s not messed up!” “No, but she’s about as big as you.” He joked and she smiled and skipped back over to your seat. She nodded at you and said quietly. “He’s funny.” “Sometimes.” You agreed, pleased with him.

“And smelly.” You smiled harder. “I think we’re all smelly.”

“Oh Robert, the hole!” Beth cheered, and Robert shook his head. “Yes!” She continued.

Anna and you exchanged curious looks.

“Father said not while he’s away.” “He’s been away, Rob! I’m asking mother.” She defied and ran off to her mom.

“What’s the hole?” You asked. Robert remained silent, glaring in Sandor’s direction.

“If you’re not gonna eat that, boy, you might as well take your sneer somewhere else.” Sandor grabbed meat off Robert’s plate and threw it onto his own.

“She said yes, she said we can go!” Beth came barreling down the hall. “Go where?” You frowned.

“The water hole! It’s not that deep and I can teach you how to swim, I’m really fast.”

“Beth, they’re big. They can just stand up, you idiot.” She stuck her tongue out at her brother and took your hand, and you in turn grabbed Anna’s to follow you. “A-Are you coming, Sandor?” You looked back as you were pulled away. He only looked down at his food. Beth led you for a long while and with each step you grew more and more anxious having left Sandor behind. “How much further is it?” “Just a little bit more.” She assured. Anna seemed to be unbothered, so you tried to relax as well. Finally you saw it. A beautiful pool of blue water crafted by stone. “Father built it when I was still in my mom’s tummy. It’s never cold!” She said excitedly. The little girl practically jumped in the water and eventually convinced you to brave it as well. Your main concern was your dress— you had no other clothes. But when Beth pouted up at you and splashed, you conceded. The two of you pulled Anna in as well and splashed around until the sun was nearly set.

The three of you began your journey back, Beth falling behind until you agreed to carry her on your back. “You think everything is alright back there?” You asked Anna, who gave you a less than convincing nod. As you marched on, you tried to focus on the feeling of the little girl resting on your back. You and your sister were close when she was this young, and it made you want to travel back in time to be with her like this. Or travel forward, you pondered. You considered what it would be like to have a daughter.

Duty would pull you to birth a son, an heir to a noble, and you had truthfully never considered for long the possibility of having a little girl of your own. You remembered your vow to never take another man, and sighed. Maybe in another life. Then you thought harder. You had consummated your marriage to Sandor. You had bled since then, but only for a day— highly unusual for you. Panic began to set in. At last you came upon Beth’s mother, waiting right outside the door with her child asleep in a cloth tied around her torso.

“What’s wrong with her?!” She worried, but you set her daughter down off of your back and she stumbled to find her footing.

“Nothing, she’s tired s’all. Thank you for trusting us, she had a lot of fun, I think…”

Beth rubbed her closed eyes and walked over to take her mother’s hand.

“Is everything alright in there?” You asked nervously.

“Seems to be… Have you got any other clothes?” She looked between Anna and you and you shook your heads shamefully. “Come on then.” She sighed.

She tucked her daughter into a large bed and began to dig through a dresser beside it. “Don’t have anything as nice as that..” she trailed off, and you shivered.

“Dry is all that matters to us.”

She handed you and Anna simple dresses and the two of you went outside to change. When you entered the home again you saw Sandor, bottle still in hand, but he had removed his armor and chainmail. “Must you drink all of her husband’s alcohol? She’s been kind to us…”

“She’s been compliant.” He argued. “Do you think she’d welcome us in if I didn’t have my sword? She’s afraid of us— of me at least.”

“Not everyone is cruel, Sandor.” “Aye, not everyone is cruel. But everyone is looking out for themselves. She’s got a family, she’s not gonna risk that for strangers. Make no mistake about it, it’s not kindness that keeps us in this house.”

Perhaps he was right.

“We’ll leave in the morning, yes?”

He thought for a moment. “Yes. We’ll have another long ride ahead of us…”

He approached you and you tried not to flinch when his hand came up to your face. It wasn’t out of fear, only surprise. His fingers stroked down a small lock of your wet hair right beside your cheek. Is he drunk?

“How was the water?” He asked, fingers lingering by your neck, knuckles barely brushing against your throat. Your eyes were wide at his actions, at the stark change in his tone, but you didn’t want him to stop the sweetness. “It was perfect… You should have come…”

Sandor was so close now that you could smell the booze on his breath but you did not cringe away from it. He tucked your hair behind your ear and laid a heavy hand on your shoulder. He took a step back, took another swig, and smirked. “Look like a proper mother in that dress.”

You smiled, embarrassed. “It’s the dress of a proper mother.” You picked up the sides of the dress and twirled it a bit. “What, you don’t like it? You prefer me dressed like a harlot?”

He took one more step back, smiled and scratched his beard. “Never seen you in anything I didn’t like… except maybe that sack of potatoes.”

You snickered and shoved past him. “Wait.” He grabbed your arm and you stilled. “You said you can keep watch?”

As tired as you were, you were pleased with this new responsibility— this new trust, and so you nodded.

“Keep a watch on that little fucker right there.” He nodded to Robert, who was sat on a chair in the corner, holding a large wooden rolling pin. You tried not to snicker at how serious the little boy looked. “Think he means to bash my skull in.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” You nodded again, and placed your hand over his on your arm. “Get some sleep.”

With that, he swayed off to Robert’s room and you heard the bed sink and creek with the weight of him flopping down on it. Anna started up the fire with fresh wood and the two of you sat up taking turns brushing through each other’s hair. You watched Robert doze off in the corner of your eye and smiled to yourself as the rolling pin dangled in one weak hand. Anna pulled some blankets from a cupboard and made herself a cot on the floor, falling asleep just as quickly as her head hit the ground.

You watched the fire until your eyes burned and then found one of the straw dolls you had made earlier that day. A child. Could it even be possible for you now?

“What are you doing here?” Came a voice, startling you into a gasp. “Gods!” You whispered, relaxing once you laid eyes on the mother. “You scared me…” you let the doll rest again on the table and walked back over to the fire. “I’m just keeping watch..”

“Someone hunting you? The royal guard, perhaps?” You hoped your anxiety didn’t reflect in your expression. “Never can be too careful..”

“That’s The Hound, isn’t it?” She approached, settling into her rocking chair, the baby still swaddled in her arms. “Face half melted… The King’s mad dog, now without a King.”

“You’re mistaken. We’re just passing through… I’m sorry we had to stumble upon you, we’ll be gone in the morning. Your son’s already told me you’re expecting your husband back and we don’t want—”

“My husband isn’t coming back.” She cut you off, eyes glazing over when she cast them to the fire. “He was sick… Getting worse every day. Nothing I knew to do was helping.. Robert left months ago. He said he didn’t want the children to watch him die, weak. So he told the children he was going off to fight in the war. A war that didn’t exist.” You glanced again at Robert to make sure he was still sleeping. She looked behind her at her son and sighed. “He misses his father every day. He’s the man of the house now, acts tough, but I know he’s scared. Today, he was scared… But you have control over him now, don’t you? The Hound?”

You furrowed your brows and shook your head a bit. “Nobody controls anybody.”

“Where are you heading?” You said nothing, only watched the shadow of the flames flicker on the floor.

“You don’t have to leave…” She surprised you. “I don’t want my son to be afraid anymore.” Her voice wavered. “He ought to grow up with a man, a proper man around. We need someone to hunt, to fix things… Beth adores you, I haven’t seen her smile like that in so long.. If you’re running from someone, you’ll be safe here. No one comes around.” She tried to persuade you. “You can settle here..”

You were so caught off guard by this conversation, you didn’t know what to say. She was asking you and Sandor to play house with her family.

“I understand your worries.. as much as I can… I think we have to be moving on though.”

She nodded and the two of you continued to sit in silence deep into the night. At one point, the baby stirred and she began to feed the child from her breast. “Did you know he was sick before you were pregnant?” You asked boldly. “No… He wanted to be in his life, but he got bad fast.. It’s the only time I’ve had to go through it alone. Bringing this baby into the world was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

You nodded. “Your first two were easier?.. Not too painful?”

Her brow furrowed and she smirked. “Oh, very painful… But worth it.”

You nodded again, looking down at your lap.

“I saw the blood in your clothes… Is that what you’re worried about?.. Did he take you?”

You shook your head and smiled softly. “No, no, he… Well, yes.. I don’t know how long it’s been.” You tried to reflect. “I started bleeding long after the last time, but it was different.” “How much blood?” She sat up, more invested in the conversation now.

“Same as always for the first day, but that’s all that it was. It just stopped.”

“Are your breasts sore?”

You shook your head but reached up and squeezed them to ensure you weren’t crazy. “No… I’m hungry though, and my mother said she knew she was going to have my sister when she bled for just a day.”

“Sweetheart, that bleeding is different. It’s very light, very light cramping, and you’re more tired than hungry.”

“Well I have been tired—“

She smiled knowingly and shook her head. “You’re not pregnant… Your bleeding likely stopped from stress, malnutrition.. You’re tired and hungry because you’ve been riding horseback for who knows how long. The Gods only give us what we can handle, child…”

You frowned at her but nodded just to dismiss the conversation. “You seem disappointed..?” She said, but you shook your head again. “Would you want a child?”

“I always knew I was supposed to have one, or two… That was my purpose; marry a nobleman and give him children— raise the standing of my family. It never really mattered if I wanted one or not…” You looked up at her. “After everything I’ve been through my answer should be no. It should be simple. But it isn’t..” you felt your emotions rise. “I think I would.. I think I do… It could be beautiful y’know, to bring something so small and good into this world.”

She nodded. “Would you want his child?”

A tear slipped down your cheek that you hadn’t even realized was brewing and you wiped it away and rolled your eyes at yourself. “It’s not like that anymore.”

“You’re not married?” She asked, and your head snapped right to her. “Did he—“

“He said you were his wife… I didn’t believe him until I saw the way you looked at him just before bed.”

“There is nothing in the way I look him.” You were stern. Never again would you be persecuted for having hearts in your eyes. “As you say.” She didn’t argue and you were grateful. ”You should rest.” You suggested, and she sighed and stood.

“Will you ask him about it? About sticking around?” She paused before rounding the corner into the room with her daughter. You agreed, dismissing her with a wave. When she was gonna you took a deep breath and laid back against the floor, hands on your empty stomach. You considered the safety the home might provide, the charm of the children, and the rest that Sandor and the horses so desperately needed. Maybe one day more.

Sandor watched you from the dark room and sank back down in the bed. It’s not like that anymore, you had said, but it could be, he thought.

[brownwomanisland]

Like clockwork, I'll see some notable members of the "radfem" movement or really just the "against AGP" movement from the global west and I'll go searching their tweets and they don't actually give a fuck about Palestinian women, Congolese women, Sudanese women.

Yeah, no wonder you have so little allies. You're too busy blaming people for their death. Their liberation of women actually just ends at the borders of their country lmao. That's why I would quicker follow nameless anonymous rad fems who mention women around the world when they can vs the ones with their names and faces on it because they only care about their little paradise not turning into something they hate.

Funny how women and girls everywhere want that. And if you bring up their silence or they're gonna say you're in support of grooming gangs or something like that. Because if you're against war mongering, you must be in favour of ... smaller scale war mongering?

Why cannot I be against genocide and also religious backed grooming gangs? Can I not be against torture against a dispossesed people (which are almost always women and children because they bare the brunt of war) and the trans nonsense of taking up women's spaces? Can I be against religious persecution and also the right for people to practice their religion humanely?

It's then when you realize we do not see the source the same. They do not see the problem of male behavior, male violence, male depravity. They do not see it as that because for them, Islam is the worst thing. And pornography. And I agree.

I also think all religion gives a backing for terrible men to abuse women under a system of respectability that so many people have not recognized. They are so caught up in what faith is their biggest enemy they're inadvertently running cover for terrible men in the faith they see as respectable. How many women and girls go unseen by them?

I wish they would stop calling themselves terfs and just call themselves TE. I don't see what's so radical feminist about knowing your sisters are dying somewhere but not caring because they happened to be indoctrinated into the wrong religion.

Sorry if you don't want to hear me talk about the blindness of our movement. We can't be against male violence everywhere and then go some exclusions may apply™️.

It's the same principle where I find women who push and enlist girls for Only Fans extremely dislikeable and yet the moment they say they want out, I will support their posts. The same way I find phallic obsessed lesbians (calling your girlfriend "boyfriend" lesbian, gagging on strap tweets, obsession with "top" double mastectomy surgeries) gross but I will help them call out an injustice that has occurred. The same way I find the bloodthirstyness of Zionist women appalling and yet I will never believe that she deserves to be raped.

We're either in this together or we're not.

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 79

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Katara had been right. By the end of her first week back in the South, Northern boats appeared on the horizon. But it wasn't just women looking to learn combat bending. There were women escaping arranged marriages, men that wanted to be healers, and mothers helping their children escape the oppression and sexism of the North.

One had brought a letter from Yue, explaining that she had been finding anyone that was starting to question Agna Qel'a and it's leaderships choices, and helping them flee with directions to the South. She had been doing so in secret, ever since her wedding to Hahn.

"We're... gonna need more houses," Sokka said, as they realized that the chances of more arrivals were high.

The rebuilding effort of their village was coming along nicely.

The Wani had been loaded with materials before its departure, which had helped turn their little snow huts into little snow houses. Captain Jee hadn't been able to stay, bringing any of the Fire Nation refugees that wanted to leave back to the Fire Nation. A few had stayed, one man having found a woman that he was quite taken with, while others found the peace of the little village more appealing than the hustle of most Fire Nation cities.

And, of course, there was Rinzo and Taka. The two soldiers hovered and smiled, doing anything that she asked, save for leave her alone for five minutes. She supposed, if they already saw her as their Fire Lady, it would be good practice for when she took the position officially.

For the new benders, they decided to build an all in one school. One side for combat training, the other for healing. It would go where her healers hut had been. They were able to bend the snow into a rough thick shape of what they wanted. Sokka and a few of the more architecturally inclined would go in and smooth out their work to make it look nice.

With the Fire Nation citizens that stayed, and the Northern Tribesmen that joined them, almost the entirety of Wolf Cove had been rebuilt, in a more modern style. They had a longhouse again, next to the bending school. There was currently construction on a larger, more secure storehouse.

If Katara hadn't been there to see construction begin, she likely wouldn't recognize it.

It was at the end of the week that Aang finally arrived on Appa.

"Whoa," Aang said, as he dropped off of Appa and looked around. "This is... I know I only saw it for a minute, but it's way different!"

"With my dad and the warriors home, we need the extra space," Katara said. She shrugged, putting her hands in the sleeves of her red koala-sheep tunic. It was getting tight again. "How's Zuko?"

Immediately, Aang cringed. "He's... Fine. Juggling Azula, foreign affairs proposals, internal issues. He's got his hands full, that's for sure."

Her heart sank. "I wish I was there to help. Did he... decide what to do with Azula?"

Aang nodded. "I took her bending."

The confession was grim, and Katara felt the weight of it as heavily as Aang did. It was a terrible decision to have to make. Azula was only a few months older than Katara, and it was Ozai that really pushed Azula into what she became, but there really wasn't much else they could do. Azula needed help, but she was too dangerous to be given it without a safeguard in place.

There had been no other options.

"Come on," Katara said, redirecting the conversation. People were starting to gather around them. "My dad is in the long house. You have a plan for the peace summit?"

"I do," Aang said, though he didn't seem sure.

Deciding not to press him, especially since she'd be getting answers soon enough anyway, Katara led him into the long house. It was by far the largest building in the tribe, meant to be able to have standing room for every member, and they built it with their soon to be growing population in mind.

"Avatar Aang," her father called, from where he was going over maps of the surrounding area with Sokka.

Her mother looked up from where she was braiding cords nearby, frowning. "Aang? The boy that attacked Zuko?"

Aang sheepishly laughed. "Err... Yeah, sorry. Katara and Sokka had just told me about the war, and I kinda freaked out."

Her mother hummed.

"Whatcha got for us?" Sokka said, before they could get distracted. "Anything from Suki? Did they head back to Kyoshi yet?"

So much for not getting distracted.

"They're still in Caldera City," Aang explained, offhandedly as he reached into his robes to pull out a tightly rolled scroll. "Chief Hakoda, this is for you."

Her father frowned, taking the scroll and breaking an orange wax seal. Katara moved to her fathers side, looking over his shoulder to read, as Sokka did the same on the other side.

It was an invitation, written in a pristine script that Katara recognized as Aang's hand writing.

You are invited to the first ever Four Nations Peace Summit. This summit is meant to bridge the divide of nations, so we can all work together to find lasting peace and balance. The leaders of each nation will be discussing various topics, including but not limited to: assigning ambassadors, trade routes, goals for the coming year. This is planned to be a three day summit, with the opening ceremony happening on the night of the first day of the ninth month, in Ba Sing Se. We are looking forward to seeing you there! - Avatar Aang of the Air Nomands

Katara felt her eye twitch. "Aang..."

"Iroh gave me a few tips when I was drafting it," the young monk said, smiling oh so proudly.

"Why does the summit start the day of the comet?!"

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

[sharklovingaquarist]

Now I'm not expert but I have taken an environmental science class. TFR (total fertility rate) always struck me the wrong way. Could be that this was my senior year and that's when I became much more radical. But TFR is specifically how many children there are in ratio to one woman. And that shit, to me, is abhorrent. Women aren't considered citizens, we're broodmares. Again, if this was really about population and not male ego there would be statistics on female death, paternal effects during and after gestation (which effects BOTH FETUS AND FEMALE), and fathers staying with mothers. Population is determined by much more than birth. I dont know how many times I have to state that this is the reproductive method of humans. Females are not the reproductive sex just because we give birth. One man equals one woman in a heterosexual relationship. We are monogamous. The whole reason this attitude works is because men have wiggled their way out of a partnership with women and have made themselves our owners. Like a fucking farmer over his herd of dairy cows. Even wolves show how both parents are needed to provide as animals that mate for life. Why is TFR not a child compared to a man AND woman? "Oh well you cant record how many kids men have" Yes, just like how 2:1 means every single woman has 2 children... twins exist. TFR, to me, seems more like a statistic for men to see how their baby factories are running. And I admit, I'm not an environmental science person, but biology shows it too. Females are the vessels, males use their sperm as a catalyst. It both allows them to back out of being responsible but strokes their big ass egos and credits them with creation. Idk it makes my head hurt. As someone in science, women need to question scientific methods

[khazadaimenu]

any outstanding thoughts on the day to day lives of Durin's line in the blue mountains? Specifically the childhood's of Kili and Fili?

Hey! Sorry I’m so slow with this. And thank you, it’s a really cool ask to receive!

I don't think I have any original thoughts, that haven't already been said somewhere. But it's still a joy to share, hope you like it!

I love thinking about what life was like in the Blue Mountains. I think certainly young princes grew up with less pressure than Thorin has. And less insulated from other races, from the realities of poverty and the like. Which means they grew up more or less unburdened by the grievances of the past and with a more open mind.

Their childhood consisted of: Training sessions with Dwalin Lessons with Balin Play time with Gimli, Ori and many other dwarf children Stories about the great deeds of the past, around the hearth or at bedtime Travelling dwarves bringing with them news of the wider world, some interesting curios, igniting a desire within them to see the world Obviously, Thorin's stories had a decisive effect in determining the young dwarves' futures. There was no other way they saw it, other than regaining Erebor. If not even for themselves, but for the sake of the older generation, Thorin, Dis, and others. Sort of on obligation they didn't even see as obligation, so ingrained it was in them growing up.

I also headcanon that Thorin decided at some point that Fili and Kili would be his heirs. Because he wanted to have a hand in raising his heirs, instead of the throne passing to someone who's never even known the old Erebor. I don't think Fili and Kili's father necessarily saw that as a good thing. He wanted to raise his sons with the right values, not fixated on gold or power, but how to live a simple life and be happy. Part of the reason Dis loved him so much, I think. And even though he passed away early, in an Orc skirmish, he managed to share his kindness and wisdom with his sons. Kili doesn't remember much of his father, being too young. But Fili feels a great deal of pressure to be a man his father would approve of. Which keeps his scales of values in balance. Hence him going against Thorin's wishes later on in the quest. And Kili grew up trying to be like Fili, so he feels the same way about many things.

They probably, unusually for dwarves, spent a lot of their days on the surface, learning to survive and hunt. But also playing. There might have been some bullying from the local Blue Mountain kids, because they were formally princes, but didn’t have anything to their name. And nobody believed they could ever retake the mountain. But as they grew and proved their worth and their family restored some of the wealth and lived more or less comfortably, that faded.

As they grew older, their responsibilities grew as well. There was helping Dis around the house/halls (depending on which version you prefer). Learning blacksmithing from Thorin and other dwarves. Travelling to the neighbouring villages of Men to see how trade is done and deals are made. Learning contracts from Balin.

When it comes to training, I think they were very competitive if pitted against one another in a task (quickest to get to the end of an obstacles course, anyone?), but also learned to work together and have each other’s backs, always. Which helped them immensely once they took up jobs as caravan guards.

Once they reached adolescence/young adulthood, Fili had this one summer where he changed a lot and suddenly became incredibly attractive to fellow dwarrowdams, and also would sometimes catch curious glances from women of Menfolk and hobbit lasses. Up to a certain age, he doesn't have a clue what that is all about and is just puzzled. Until one day it hits him, but that doesn't change how he treats people, although he does take care of his appearance and makes sure to look presentable always.

And Kíli had a summer of growth spurt where he shot up higher than Fili. But Fili still reminded him occasionally who the big brother is, in a friendly manner, nothing much, just ruffling his hair and play fighting. Kili also shows himself as a very romantic person, dreaming of adventure and a big love story one day. His head is full of ideas for the future and he doesn't have much passion for things like keeping surfaces tidy or brushing one's hair. But everyone's charmed by him and loves him nonetheless, for he wears his heart on his sleef.

That's it. Thanks again for sending this, it was like plunging into their world. I'm sorry it couldn't be sooner, the moment had to be right.

[pbandjeveryday]

I’m rewatching Mandalorian and wow I love how this show de-villified the Tusken raiders/sand people.

They’re still portrayed as a brutal group, and their attacks and killings aren’t ignored, but The Mandalorian gives them layers that were never shown in the movies. We get to see them conduct trade, protect each other, and struggle with the more dangerous aspects of the desert. They have a rich history. They have their own sign language. They have pet dogs. And suddenly they seem like people instead of monsters.

It’s a great reminder that just because you can’t see someone’s face, doesn’t mean they don’t have one. Which I guess is fitting for a show with a main character whose face is always hidden.

[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

Darth Vader: I want to befriend all sand haters

Not just the men

But the women and children too!

Boimler and his sand allergy

[qu4kerider]

“I hate them.”

ARCANE S02E01 & STAR WARS: EPISODE II - ATTACK OF THE CLONES

[atypical-artisan]

Heartbreaking News:

Someone who's art you think/thought was neat hates you cause you enjoy a ship.

[katerinaaqu]

I am really happy you liked this and thank you so much for your sweet reblog! Yes I think so too! I mean sure imagination is one thing but at the same time people abused this to the point of a fan joke spreading like a wild fire and blasting out of proportions

And the funny part was that there were some other nasty Athenean comments if i recall correctly, that Spartan women were not liberated at all and that men who were old could sell these women to some young man to have children for them to have strong children and such. Obviously there is little to no evidence such thing happening and mostly it was just Athenean speaking that "ha ha Spartans are all bastards" which of course is the other end of the spectrum and doesn't bear much more truth than the others and needs to be taken with plenty of grains of salt. (Need to track all these sources down once more by the way because boy oh boy these are subjects on their own to discuss)

And yeah people take down to the tee the general idea that Spartan women had some more freedom compared to other Greek cities and then they make it sound as if all Spartan women were somehow the feminists of their time like no binary roles or society rules at all which again wasn't true

And as you brilliantly stated even if we take the Lycurgean reformation (and that set of rules had some strict as hell situations there!) That most likely had nothing to do with Sparta of Homer's weiting which was the mycenaean Sparta and all

Hi! Love your takes and all! What do you think of people talking about Penelope being all buff and strong physically as she was "Spartan?" or that she find Odysseus more attractive with blood plaster on his body as she is "Spartan" or such?. Is it true in the Epics? I read something about a Lykurgus or something..I just want to have a nuanced answer to that, also sorry for the silly question.

You are very kind Anon and I am glad you find them useful

Okay for starters I think this whole thing is a massive stereotype in regards to Sparta that "they are all sexually aroused by blood and violence". I mean yes Sparta as we know had an extreme military outline but it is not like they all just killed around to have fun like a twisted version of Asterix village or something. They valued war and the strength in war of course and they took pride to their warfare and all but yeah I think the whole thing of "oh gosh! Blood! Foreplay for Spartans" is just a joke that goes too far sometimes (although we DO have some exaggerated sources about the Spartans but, surprise surprise, they come from their main rival, Athens so yeah one needs to consider that too. So yeah although the Spartans were strictly military I do not think it is actually realistic to say that they all went like:

lol XD

Two this "Sparta" that they mostly mention is at least 100 years if not more away than the "Sparta" mentioned in the epic cycle. You see the Epic Cycle might have been synthesized at the 8th century BC but the events taking place in it, reflect on the Bronze Age or the Mycenean kingdoms which existed before. These "Spartans" everyone speaks about is usually referring to the Doriean Spartans. The Dorieans were a Greek set of tribes with their own dialect that came down from the north at the year around 1100 BC, around 100 years after the estimated date of the events of the Trojan war and they got to remain to the areas such as Macedonia or Lacedaimona aka Sparta thus we have Macedonians and Spartans speak Doric Greek dialect while Atheneans speak Attic Greek dialect and the Asia Minor greek cities speak Ionian etc Either way as I said the events of the Trojan war happened around 100 years before this Doric Tribe descend much less till the strictly military spartan system to be fully crystallized. So we need to think of that. And even then it is not like the Spartan women were some sort of body-builders who didn't have any sort of binary roles to their society or being active warriors in armies etc (don't mistake them for Amazons guys! Hahahaha!). They did actively excersize more than most Greek cities at that time and they did take part in athletic events more than let's say Athens (Athenean women by n large seemed to participate in sports such as running and those were exclusively for Hera's celebrations) so we can imagine they would be more athletic than the average Greek lady but that doesn't mean they were soldier-trained or anything. The military training was for boys at the city of Sparta. And women still had their own binary roles in their respected society, they just had some more freedom as compared to their Athenean counterparts.

So even if Myceneans DID have a more military form of society or at least based on the findings they did focus on warfare to their art and such and the building of their walls and all they still wouldn't be the same as the doric Sparta that were exclusively military. Could perhaps mycenean Sparta have the basis for the future doric Sparta? Perhaps but I doubt we have sufficient evidence to say they are identical.

Three. I believe that people who wanna desperately depict Penelope as some buff lady, misses the concept of Penelope's strength in the Odyssey. Penelope was not strong because she could fight with the sword. She was strong because she was mentally steadfast, clever and resourceful and enduring and she managed to hold the kingdom of Ithaca steadfast by herself for 20 years. It wasn't about her being buff lady. Homer does seem to imply she was tall and stoutly buillt; see my other post where I mention her physical description in Homer:

but not buff as "I'm gonna kick your ass" buff and all. Homer doesn't mention that any of the Spartan princesses have some specific training (Helen Clytemnestra or Penelope) but later literature implies that they have basic knowledge on weaponry (for example in later 5th century dramas and above Clytemnestra not only is seen wielding a weapon but knowing some basics as to how it was made) but it needs to be said that the posthomeric sources were also influenced by their contemporary Sparta aka the doric military Sparta. Homer doesn't imply that this strict military doric way of life was part of his lore but he does imply that Sparta relies more to its military (as compared to Ithaca or Pylos for example) so maybe he attempts to create the illusion of historical continuation but either way no this whole "300s-like" Sparta was not crystalized yet to the times that Homer synthesized his poems much less to the time of Bronze Age.

And there is no hint that Penelope goes "WOW BLOOD!" that seems to me one of the overused jokes on the internet, again emanating by the whole series of Sparta stereotypes used for comedy. It was in fact Euryclea the one to almost welp in happiness seeing Odysseus covered in blood and that was because Odysseus had killed the men she hated. Penelope doesn't show such a thing. Odysseus also washes himself up to be presentable to her. And even in posthomeric sources Penelope was not linked to physical strength but rather with the strength of her mind and the purity of her intentions (well...except maybe from Parthenius narrative if I recall correctly. There Penelope is pictured as scheming in jealousy against one of the sons Odysseus ellegedly produced and manipulated her husband to kill his illegitimate son)

As for the last part I am not sure what you are referring to? Are you referring to Lycurgus that is mentioned in some later sources as king? I did find for example the reference of Plutarch (who lives much much later) that he implies that Lycurgus lives at the same time as Homer or possibly had met him personally but is that what you are referring to? Either way I assume you refer to the historical person rather than some mythical figure because in homeric realm we do have rulers such as Tyndareus (the king of Sparta father to Helen and Clytemnestra) and Icarius (father to Penelope). It seems that Homer with the mention of the two rulers, even if not directly mentioning it, seems to be winking at the later but still ancient custom of doric Sparta to have two kings but I am not sure if that truly was his objective (and therefore creating an anachronism most likely)

I hope that answers your questions a bit

[pbpsbff]

crazy how “genocide is bad” is a controversial take to some ppl these days

[banished-away]

feeling slightly vindicated watching an RAS interview bc keep getting this feeling from the drizzt books that theyre very italian-american (as in, i see a lot of things i recognize from italian culture in it, but influenced and changed by american culture) and he said that he based off the culture of menzo partly on his hometown and then the sopranos/godfather which confirmed it to me

also he pronounces menzoberranzan the way i used to before someone else corrected me JKNDSKJFKDS