#radical-adolescence

[toastedpopsicle]

hey can people stop with the comparing people who look young to children. as someone who naturally looks young and is constantly having my partners accused of being a pedophile, and of 'catering myself' to pedos, despite being a grown adult, tags like yours add to that problem and are also just a weird thing to say.

I'm talking about the results of a cultural fetishism of adolescence in general but adolescent girls in particular. Leading to an entire industrial and cultural obsession with intentional malnutrition and artificially preserving youth. On a biological level a skinny person is an animal that stopped developing before reaching maturity due to malnutrition. Starvation hinders growth. If you don't intentionally chase the eurocentric beauty ideals (that the ideal woman is a malnourished adolescent) I'm criticizing then my tags weren't about you. If you're 'naturally' youthful and understand that that gives you undue cultural value then you're *not* catering to a cultural ideal that fetishizes pubescent girls. Maybe examine your reactionary impulse to believe a cultural critique is about you in particular.

[haggishlyhagging]

This introduction can serve as a working sheet for a beginning consciousness raising group.

The typical consciousness-raising group is composed of six to twelve women who meet on an average of once a week. Groups larger than ten or twelve are less conducive to lengthy personal discussion and analysis. The consciousness-raising process is one in which personal experiences, when shared, are recognized as a result not of an individual's idiosyncratic history and behavior, but of the system of sex-role stereotyping. That is, they are political, not personal, questions.

Generally consciousness-raising groups spend from three to six months talking about personal experiences and then analyzing those experiences in feminist terms. Thereafter they often begin working on specific projects including such activities as reading, analyzing and writing literature; abortion law repeal projects; setting up child care centers; organizing speak-outs (rape, motherhood, abortion, etc.) ; challenging sex discrimination in employment, education, etc.

The following is a list of topic areas generally discussed. Although listed by week, they are not in any particular order, nor is it necessary to rigidly adhere to a one-week/one-topic schedule. The questions are examples of the kinds of areas that can be explored.

Week 1 GENERAL: What are some of the things that got you interested in the women's movement?

Week 2 FAMILY: Discuss your parents and their relationship to you as a girl (daughter). Were you treated differently from brothers or friends who were boys?

Week 3 FAMILY: Discuss your relationships with women in your family.

Week 4 CHILDHOOD AND ADOLESCENCE: Problems of growing up as a girl. Did you have heroines or heros? Who were they? What were your favorite games? How did you feel about your body changing at puberty?

Week 5 MEN: Discuss your relationships with men-friends, lovers, bosses—as they evolved. Are there any recurring patterns?

Week 6 MARITAL STATUS: How do (or did) you feel about being single? Married? Divorced? What have been the pressures—family, social— on you?

Week 7 MOTHERHOOD: Did you consider having children a matter of choice? Discuss the social and personal pressures you may have felt to become a mother. What have been your experiences and thoughts regarding such issues as child care, contraception and abortion?

Week 8 SEX: Have you ever felt that men have pressured you into having sexual relationships? Have you ever lied about orgasm?

Week 9 SEX: Sex objects-When do you feel like one? Do you want to be beautiful? Do you ever feel invisible?

Week 10 WOMEN: Discuss your relationships with other women. For example, have you ever felt competitive with other women for men? Have you ever felt attracted to another woman?

Week 11 BEHAVIOR: What is a "nice girl"? Discuss the times you have been called selfish. Have you ever felt that you were expected to smile even when you didn't feel like it?

Week 12 AGE: How do you feel about getting old? Your mother getting old? What aspects of aging do you look forward to? Fear? Do you think it is a different problem for men and women?

Week 13 AMBITIONS: What would you most like to do in life? How does being a woman affect that?

Week 14 MOVEMENT ACTIVITY: What are some of the things you would like to see the women's movement accomplish?

-‘Consciousness Raising’ in Radical Feminism, Koedt et al (eds.)

[wild-at-mind]

I get this but also talk about the trans narrative the media sells is so strange to me. What media? The trans narrative the media sells in the UK is concerned parents who need to be informed by teachers the same second their child asks about using a different name and/or pronoun. No one can hear enough from these parents. A phrase the mainstream media loves here is 'born in the wrong body', which isn't something I've ever heard a trans person say about themselves, but if they did that would be fine. However instead all you hear from the media is 'people are learning online they must be born in the wrong body if they like things associated with the opposite sex!' They fucking love that phrase because it sounds ridiculous to the layperson, it's easy to make fun of. This is the trans narrative the media is selling, and it's not our narrative because it doesn't come from us.

Online spaces are really toxic and full of people correcting each other and I agree with all the messages about people not doing this. We can always tell people to stfu with their 'disagreement' of what we call ourselves, and people should stop engaging others in weird label policing. But I also want to caution against the idea that your identity can be more or less radical than someone else's because of what it is called, or how comfortable you perceive it makes people. We all just are, no matter how well or not well our identity fits with the mainstream narrative (which of course does exist, and is things like 'you always were your gender' and stuff- I get what was meant by that really, I just wanted to remind people, perhaps patronisingly, of the media landscape we actually live in). Maybe we can only support each other if we see that.

don't use "ftm" it's outdated and offensive. it implies that the trans person was their agab, which we never were. i was always a boy, never a girl who became a boy.

i'm 35 years old. i've been IDing as trans or something similar to trans for nearly 20 years. i was probably calling myself FTM while you were playing tag during recess, anon.

i WAS a girl. i IDed as a girl early in my life. i recognized myself as a girl, called myself a girl, lived as a girl, and was a girl. who then IDed as a man. hence, F t M.

spend more time worrying about yourself instead of strangers on the internet, anon.

sorry not sorry if this comes off as needlessly hostile, but i've been getting a lot of shit from a lot of teenage trans kids about the language i use to describe my own goddamn experience, and i'm growing real fuckin weary of it.

i have elder trans friends who call themselves transsexuals and transvestites and trannies. are you going to seriously go to a 60-year-old trans person who survived the reagan years and tell her she's not allowed to use certain language to describe herself because it might offend the delicate sensibilities of some teenager on the internet?

do yourself a favor and log off, find some real-life trans people who are over the age of 20 or 25, and spend time talking to them instead of getting all holier-than-thou at random strangers on tumblr.

[mariacallous]

The politicization of transgender children in the US is one of the most astounding coups of propaganda and organized animus in recent history. Rarely has so much attention and rage been directed at such a minuscule number of people, and more rarely, still, have those people been the most vulnerable and blameless among us: kids and teens.

The first state to pass a ban on transition-related care for minors was Arkansas, in April 2021; less than four years later, more than half of states have such a ban on the books. In 2016, North Carolina lost an estimated $3.76bn in revenue following boycotts after they passed a law banning trans people, including transgender students, from using appropriate restrooms in public facilities; now, 14 states have such bathroom bans on the books, and the boycotts have receded.

These changes in public attitudes towards trans youth – from a broad if imperfect sentiment of tolerance to a widespread and politically weaponized attitude of hostility toward a small minority of kids – did not emerge by accident. It was the product of a deliberate, conscious effort to radicalize large swaths of the United States, and significant chunks of state policy, into a hostility towards a few children.

That effort seems set to bear fruit now, at the US supreme court, in US v Skrmetti, a lawsuit brought by the ACLU and the Biden Department of Justice challenging Tennessee’s HB1, a sweeping ban on transition-related care for minors that was passed in 2023. The law prohibits any puberty blockers or hormones from being prescribed for the purposes of gender transition, but it does not prohibit these medications from being prescribed for any non-transition-related purpose. A minor can be prescribed puberty blockers, for instance, if their doctor believes they are experiencing early onset, or “precocious”, puberty; they cannot be prescribed puberty blockers to delay the onset of a puberty that may change their bodies in ways they do not desire for gender identity-related reasons.

That means, too, that a child assigned male at birth could access, say, testosterone treatment, but a child assigned female at birth could not. In oral arguments on Wednesday, solicitor general Elizabeth Prelogar and Chase Strangio of the ACLU – the first trans attorney to argue before the supreme court – explained that this was a straightforward case of sex discrimination, and hence needed to be subjected to a heightened standard of judicial review under the 14th amendment’s equal protection clause.

It will not be. A majority of the court’s conservatives seemed poised to uphold the ban on transgender healthcare, though for a variety of different reasons. Brett Kavanaugh made his usual mealy-mouthed paean to states’ rights, an argument he always makes in questions of federally guaranteed equality provisions, but not before extolling the hypothetical suffering of teenagers who may access gender-affirming care but then later come to regret it. (One wonders if there are any choices from his own adolescence that Brett Kavanaugh has come to regret.) Clarence Thomas and chief justice John Roberts, meanwhile, both advanced the idea that the physiological differences between male and female bodies could moot the equal protection clause’s reach, giving states broad leeway to regulate medicine in ways that would uphold gender hierarchy.

For his part, Samuel Alito also seemed interested in the idea that states might have a right to effect gender discrimination via their regulation of medicine. He repeatedly cited the 1974 case Geduldig v Aiello, in which the supreme court ruled that states could discriminate on the basis of pregnancy, and that pregnancy discrimination was not sex discrimination – because even though only female people become pregnant, not all of them are pregnant all of the time. (At the time, Congress found the outcome in Geduldig so egregious that it passed a law clarifying that pregnancy discrimination does count as sex discrimination for the purposes of federal civil rights law, and the precedent was largely mooted, but Alito’s controlling opinion in Dobbs has revived it.)

But Alito, true to form, did not confine his opining to the notion that discrimination against trans people does not count as sex-based discrimination: he went on to suggest that trans people are not quite real, peppering Strangio, in a scene that seemed intended to humiliate the trans attorney, with questions about whether trans identity was truly an “immutable” characteristic. For his part, Strangio responded with a dignity and respect that Alito’s line of questioning did not merit.

It was not the only low moment. James Matthew Rice, the Tennessee solicitor general who defended the ban in court, repeatedly compared gender affirming care with suicide, as well as to lobotomies and eugenics. During his time, justices Ketanji Brown Jackson and Sonia Sotomayor, with occasional assists from Elena Kagan, tried to chase Rice down on the inconsistencies in his own argument.

Tennessee claimed, after all, that the law did not discriminate on the basis of patients’ sex, but rather on the basis of the purpose of their treatment; when the liberal justices pointed out that this was a distinction without a difference, because the purpose of the treatment was dependent on the patients’ sex, Rice simply repeated his assertion that there was a difference, there, somewhere. Jackson, in particular, worked to get Rice to explain his position for some time. He declined to.

To call the Tennessee ban sex-neutral is laughable, almost insulting. The statute itself makes gender conformity its explicit justification in its text, saying that it aims to prohibit “sex inconsistent treatment”, or anything that “might encourage minors to become disdainful of their sex”. The law has long included sex role stereotyping within the purview of sex discrimination; Tennessee has sought to enforce sex roles, and sexed embodiment, with the force of the state. There is no good faith reading of the law that would allow it to withstand the scrutiny that the 14th amendment requires. But luckily for Tennessee, this is not a good faith court.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hey trans Florida folks - things suck, but I want to make sure y'all have more info so you can better gauge the urgency and expected risk for a new bill.

This is another long post, but please read because a lot of folks are in a huge panic at some misleading info.

You've probably seen this by now:

This is misleading. Be incredibly concerned at the path we're on because it is bad, even plan to leave the state (I am), but drag isn't punishable by the death penalty:

From the Twitter screencap: "Florida has now: 1) made drag in public illegal as a 'sex crime against children'."

Misleading. SB 1438 censors drag in front of minors w/vague, subjective language and threatens misdemeanors, fines, and license revocation for violations. This is meant to scare businesses, and even cities. We are already seeing Pride parades canceled in Florida in response:

From the Twitter screencap: "2) made sexual crimes against children punishable by death"

Too broad. Sexual battery against a child is being made into a capital felony (aka, punishable by death) in the currently proposed SB1342 .

The bill says:

"A person 18 years of age or older who commits sexual battery upon, or in an attempt to commit sexual battery injures the sexual organs of, a person less than 12 years of age commits a capital felony".

If we want a definition of "sexual battery" itself, we can jump to Florida statues at:

https://m.flsenate.gov/statutes/794.011

"Sexual battery” means oral, anal, or female genital penetration by, or union with, the sexual organ of another or the anal or female genital penetration of another by any other object; however, sexual battery does not include an act done for a bona fide medical purpose."

Also of note in this statute:

"Serious personal injury” means great bodily harm or pain, permanent disability, or permanent disfigurement."

I am not a lawyer, but to me, this looks like less of an attack against trans people for existing (via conflation with anti-drag bills), and more a way to target those providing gender affirming care -- healthcare providers or even a child's affirming guardians.

Many states are already trying to set up "aiding and abetting" laws (from the anti-abortion playbook) to punish anyone offering any kind of gender affirming care (from general therapy to vocal coaching) to a trans kid.

Florida might be hoping someone applies the "injures the sexual organs of" component of SB1342 to gender-affirming puberty blockers. Yeah, it's a stretch, but I would not be surprised to see someone try it.

Because we are already seeing the HHS committee consider sending subpoenas to gender-affirming clinics:

"House Speaker Paul Renner said he wants the House to examine how the organizations adopted their recommendations. He questioned whether the guidelines were the result of scientific analysis or whether “the integrity of the medical profession has been compromised by a radical gender ideology that stands to cause permanent physical and mental harm to children and adolescents.”

Emphasis mine. Again, I am not a lawyer, but I would not be surprised to see someone try to hold a gender-affirming clinic accountable for "sexual battery" against a child.

All these separate actions paint a grim picture.

Back to our Twitter screencap: "3) Began allowing death penaltymsentencing at at 8-4 vote instead of a unanimous vote"

Yes, true. This one is scary all on its own because it makes it that much easier for the DeSantis administration to target political enemies.

Everyone should be terrified of this:

Back to making child sexual battery a capital felony & SB1342:

Could we eventually see bills proposed that further broaden - via deliberately vague language or otherwise -what kind of "sex crimes" are punishable by death, thus fully targeting trans people?

For sure, we will absolutely see fascists try to get away with whatever they can and I hope we see more resistance against what is happening now to prevent the escalation towards genocide.

But this specific bill isn't targeting drag and it's important we understand the current threat landscape so we can plan accordingly.

Like. I'm still working on my own plan to flee Florida asap (I am a trans man) but I don't feel at risk of the death penalty just yet, so my "leave asap" is "sell the house in a month" instead of "grab the bugout bag and get in the car NOW".

It is very, very important to understand the threats we face so we don't make rash decisions that could have permanent consequences for already vulnerable people. We need to plan and act on plans with haste, but afford ourselves every opportunity to make decisions with as much accurate information as possible.

What's the status of SB1342?

As I type this, still with the senate, but check for updates at the link below. If passed, it would enact October 1, 2023.

In closing

Again, be careful, be safe, be informed. I am not a legal expert; I'm just a little guy, but the risk landscape has enough threats trans people need to respond to without us thinking drag is currently eligible for the death penalty.

Every trans person in the United States, not just Florida, should be watching what is going on across the country and noting how all these bills connect and escalate. And what could become blueprints at the federal level.

Keep hope, but plan for contingencies that could threaten your job, your housing, your liberty, and possibly even your life. Watch the news, watch your local bills, and do your best at figuring out when you need to break that emergency glass.

My biggest advice to be better informed is to learn where your state posts bills and look them up when they hit the news:

Get used to reading bills and noting when they would take effect

Learn how to follow a bill on its way into law - the stages are usually through various committees, then both the House and Senate can file amendments and ultimately vote in separate sessions to approve, then the governor signs it into law

Understand that a lot of reporting on bills can make it sound like it has passed into law, when it might still just be in a committee.

Not all bills pass, and when they do, not all pass as originally proposed. (This can work for or against us.)

Follow trans political commentators like Erin or Alejandra for more context

Again, it all sucks right now and I don't want to underscore the danger so many transgender Americans are already in (and lord knows I am very lucky to be able to leave Florida). But knowing what we're up against is one of the few defenses we have right now.

I have more advice for trans Floridians here.

[grhmwtts]

lately,

i’ve been trying to hold space for the harsh realities—the limitations, regulations—i must impose on myself. i spent the past decade unlearning what my church had taught me to be definitively “good” or definitively “bad” and, in such, unleashed a brutal and intoxicating world onto my feeble, pastel body. in said liberation was a newfound understanding that there is no place for objectivity in regards to the good, the bad—but there is, and must be, subjectivity to the good, to the bad. i soon thereafter considered myself a hedonist, indulging in the endless search for pleasure with a fixation on the pursuit of a higher fix each time, because i had believed that since i had the capacity, the ability to do all things then i must do all things. i suppose, herein i shall introduce emotional intelligence, making its entrance in stride, arm-locked, with a sense of identity. somewhere, in the place where their skin meets, warm by their intertwining arms, resides desire—futile, pulsating—escaping. this is where i find myself now: captivated by their entrance, rotten as intrusive thoughts darken the stained glass windows of the church of my mind. what ceremony is this—i dare not ask. but i am keen, and i am ruined, like never before. my veins rupture, an aneurysm of a divinity, where the “good” and the “bad” seek to tear apart each ligament of mine. in these spaces between possibility is the understanding that anything can reside within it, for the specifics do not dictate the general picture—the microaggressions do not typically overtake the one’s impression of character—but certain matter does make a knee capable of bending or in need of replacement. as such, it is within our own genetic, emotional, makeup which suggests what matter might be best for our personal functionality, ease of existence. and only, through the desire brought by contact of emotional intelligence and a sense of identity, their two independent entities and the room that is this church that is this world, that this life of a mind, do we begin to understand how exactly to piece together this body, this world, this life of self. in this process, i find myself. in this process, i find myself questioning my individuality, examining it through a lens and finding in what ways it differs to that of the general understanding, the inundation of mass media. but only in the quietude can i find myself. so i hold space for the harsh realities—the understandings crippling my adolescent-views of self, world. and i allow myself to accept—radically, theatrically, screeching in beauty and terror—that what is “good” for me is good for me, what is “bad” for me is bad for me, and neither of these standards decree a general “good” or a general “bad”. they instead eradicate judgement, eradicate fear, and invite empathy and honor to each outlook. i, still worry-minded and adolescent-angsted, wish to know how good/bad works for other people, hope that i am not the only one to feel so alienated by the way the world apparently works. but in the most minute senses: i must think of these guideposts as allergies. varying in intensity from discomfort to death, i must know the risks and remedies. i must accept that my body, my brain, might not take to 0T7 very well. even if 0T7 is commonly revered, i must instead respect my own limitations, and see them for what they are: understandings which enable me to find my own ease of existence, embrace my personal functionality at its best. it’s a long, hard-fought battle to recognize one’s own capacities and shortcomings. tis an arduous process, what most call life. and i am thankful to recognize that these specifics contribute to what makes me me, similar to the atoms, to my genetics, a glorious collision suggesting life, i get to embrace my own harsh realities. for the world is vast and we can lose ourselves within it. the self is vast and we can find our world within it.

[deadmegumi]

Ok so is the general consensus that aou is a direct-ish sequel to rgu? utena somehow getting retrieved for a do-over by akio but anthy who remembers/has grown from the events of the show preventing it

I finished utena 🥲 need to watch the adolescence of utena now and then probably rewatch the whole show but that was really incredible and I dont think anything has emotionally affected me recently the way the prince who runs through the night did

[beegomess]

But I see her, in the back of my mind || Kendall Roy

Summary: You and Kendall were always together, until you weren't. Node however, some things change radically and suddenly everything seems to be drawn back to its old place. Warnings: Just fluff and some swearing. In this story there will be no Rava or any of the children. - word count: 5.8k

Things were... different. To say the least, the word "chaos" seemed to be written on the walls of your life in recent months, as if it were a cruel reminder that when you got involved with the Roy family, nothing would ever be simple.

Since adolescence, you found yourself enthrined in the family drama, and the involvement with your father, Frank, next to Logan, seemed just to be the harmpart of what was to come. You were two years younger than Kendall in college, and at first, what started as something silly, a secret and almost ridiculously intimate relationship between you, soon became a public scandal. The paparazzi, as always, didn't waste time. Photos, names, headlines - your relationship was catapulted into the spotlight, and it didn't take long for the whole world to know who the two young people in love were.

Logan, in turn, has always had a genuine affection for you. You were more than just Kendall's girlfriend; he really saw you as part of the family, with that acceptance that was almost familiar. There was something in the way you dealt with Kendall that Logan respected, something he couldn't define, but that he knew you did easily: you put him on the axis, in a way that no one else could. But, of course, no one can deny it, Kendall always made slips, both in her personal choices and in professional decisions.

You were together for years, with comings and goings, as always. But the truth was that, after each separation, they always came back to each other. It was something that, deep down, you both knew would happen. However, when the last time you saw yourself in his arms unfolded, something changed. Something you couldn't ignore. You decided to put a stop. Without further involvement, nothing but friendship and professionalism. And, amazingly, you managed to move forward with it. Kendall, at a certain point, even started dating Naomi Pierce, trying to move on, but you... you couldn't even think of trying to move on with anyone else. Your focus was on your work, on your obligations, on what was expected of you at Waystar.

But something wasn't right. You felt tired. Not the normal tiredness of a hard working day, but a visceral exhaustion, as if your body were begging for rest. Sleeping, for endless hours, became his only solution, but even after twelve hours of sleep, it seemed that nothing was enough. Some dizziness began to become more frequent, and a strange feeling of nausea settled in you, bothering you to the point of being difficult to ignore. All that added up, until, on a particularly bad day, you could no longer pretend that nothing was happening.

It was an ordinary afternoon, the day running like everyone else, when you decided to take a ride with Shiv to Logan's birthday dinner. The dizziness became more intense that week, and the nausea seemed to chase you all the time. Even when Shiv talked excitedly, you could barely pay attention. Her mind was somewhere else, trying to focus only on not vomiting inside her car. But, inevitably, his mind couldn't resist.

- Stop the car! - His voice came out more urgently than you intended, and Shiv was immediately scared.

- What the fuck is this? - She asked, her tone of voice mixing surprise and concern, but before she could understand the situation, you were already pushing the door and bending out, releasing everything that was in your stomach.

You leaned back in the car seat, eyes closed, trying to catch your breath. His body trembled, and drops of sweat began to form on his forehead.

- For God's sake, are you okay? - Shiv asked, now visibly alarmed.

- Yes, yes, you can follow, please - you tried to calm down, although the voice came out weak. The driver went back to the car, and you tried to stay as calm as possible. - It must be a virus, something like that - you shrugged, trying to disguise the growing concern.

But Shiv wasn't convinced. She was still watching you, her eyes narrow, suspicious.

- How long has this "virus" been happening? - She asked, her voice firmer, as if it was hard to believe the explanation.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a little uncomfortable with the question, but there was no denying the symptoms that had been dragging on for weeks.

- A few weeks, I think - you admitted. - I still haven't been able to find time to go to the doctor, but... - you interrupted yourself, taking a gum from the bag, trying to divert the focus.

Shiv didn't seem satisfied with the answer. She looked at you for a few more seconds, before, with impressive naturalness, asking:

- Have you ever had a pregnancy test?

Those words paralyzed you. His body frosted instantly. How could that not have crossed your mind? Something so simple, and yet so devastating if it were true. You swallowed dryly, the thoughts starting to accelerate in your mind.

For a moment, the car seemed to slow down along with your thoughts, and you found yourself aiming at the horizon through the window. I didn't know how to answer. I didn't even know what I felt.

That same day, you took the test. The word "pregnant" appeared clear and unequivocal on the display, the beginning of all the drama you knew was coming. But telling him was something that gave you chills. After a week of creating courage, you finally called, and he showed up at your apartment that night.

Kendall was shocked at first. His silence was dense, as if he needed to process the weight of that revelation. But, little by little, the shock gave way to something that almost looked like relief - an instant where, when hugging you, he totally forgot about Naomi. A relief for which he would bitterly blame himself later.

The promise, however, was that nothing would change. You would go on with your lives as you were. After all, you had been the first to impose limits months ago, to draw a clear line between your past and the present. This pregnancy wouldn't change that. You weren't willing to establish a love drama in your life, even if it was what Kendall ended up wishing for, deep down.

For a few weeks, they kept the pregnancy a secret, although Shiv had his suspicions. Her belly began to show a slight rounding and the symptoms became increasingly unsustainable. It was impossible to keep secret for much longer. So, Kendall decided that she would tell Logan and her family at a reserved dinner at her father's house.

The dining room had a strange atmosphere of expectation. Logan, Márcia, Shiv and Roman were sitting, waiting. Shiv exchanged glances with you, already waiting for the revelation, while the others kept their curious expressions.

- I'm pregnant! - You said directly, a brief smile on your face. For a moment, everyone was silent.

Logan was the first to react, with a rare, genuine smile. It was a reaction that almost heated the tense environment of the room.

- Oh, but what great news, dear! - Márcia exclaimed, taking her hands gently.

- That's... really good. - Logan said, smiling at you and Kendall. - Good for all of us. I'm happy for you.

Roman did not hold and murmured, with that characteristic tone of provocation:

- And is the baby Kendall's? - He asked the question as if he already knows the answer, but soon noticed his father's stern look. - Okay, it was just a joke. Sorry.

Shiv looked at you with a restained smile and asked, almost like someone testing if the news was real:

- Do you know the sex?

- Yes. It's a boy. - You replied, a little relieved to see that dinner hadn't become a disaster. Not yet.

The conversation followed an almost banal course for a few minutes. But you couldn't stay long at the table before a sickness attacked you. He excusedm, saying he needed to go to the bathroom. Kendall almost offered to accompany you, but you insisted that everything was fine.

As soon as the door closed behind you, the atmosphere at the table changed immediately. Logan leaned towards Kendall, a slight smile still on his lips.

- You know, I'm happy for you, son. - The simple sentence had a huge weight. Kendall thanked him softly, while Shiv looked at him with a mixture of envy and discomfort. Logan continued, satisfied. - I knew you were going to end up getting it right. Sooner or later.

Kendall's face turned pale. He knew what was coming next, but he couldn't stop Logan from continuing.

- You've already proposed to her, right? There is no better time for this. - Logan gave Márcia a satisfied look, who nodded, smiling.

Kendall took a deep breath, almost as if she was preparing to jump off a cliff.

- Dad... - He started, trying to gather strength to say. - We're not going to do it that way.

Roman let out a sarcastic giggle, humming softly:

– Wrong answer, Ken.

Logan slowly let his smile disappear, the expression hardening.

- What did you say?

- I'm still with Naomi, dad. And she and I... well, we decided to continue that way. - Kendall looked away, her voice lower.

Logan let out a dry laugh, disbelief mixed with disdain.

- What the fuck does that mean? - He got closer, his eyes like daggers. - For God's sake, boy, what do you think we are? A circus?

Roman didn't miss the opportunity, his voice loaded with sarcasm as he added:

- It's going to be a beautiful scandal: "Kendall Roy plays happy couple with Naomi Pierce while there is a pregnant woman at home".

Kendall, visibly uncomfortable, just closed her eyes for a second, trying to ignore her brother.

- In how many ways can you embarrass your family, Kendall? - Logan let go of the rhetorical question, his heavy tone of disapproval.

Logan continued, his voice increasingly cold and sharp, as if each word was an attempt to section any attempt at Kendall's resistance.

– She would be the perfect solution for you. Finally something stable. But no, do you prefer to keep this circus with Pierce? This only proves how useless you are.

Shiv finally manifested himself, his voice lower, but full of resentment:

- And what's the plan here, Ken? Take both on a leash and see which one can hold you longer? Because you don't even know where this will lead, but I think we've seen this movie before, haven't we?

Kendall stared at Shiv, noticing the anger repressed in his tone, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to answer, but he gave up.

Logan lets out a dry laugh, mixed with disbelief and fury, before leaning towards Kendall, as if he were trying to intimidate him by proximity.

- What the fuck is this, son? - Logan's tone is now pure contempt. - I knew you were a failure, but that... This is low even for your level. Do you want to continue playing house with Naomi? Great. But fuck, have at least a drop of decency for someone who will carry your son, fuck! If it was just you getting dirty, I wouldn't even care, but that? This is a monumental disrespect.

Kendall tries to take a deep breath, seeking calm, but the fingers on the sides of the chair denounce the growing tension. He swallows dryly before answering.

- It's not like that, dad. She... she understands. We... we're fine with it. - He says, but his voice falters. The attempt to sound convincing fails miserably.

Logan, once again, lets out a harsh and ironic laugh.

- "Are we okay"? Do you really think she's "oin" with all this shit, Kendall? And what a big shit that you are "well". Look at you! Is that what you want for your child? Growing up watching his father crawling around like a dog between two owners?

Kendall lowers her head, swallowing the urge to fight back, but her hands tremble with anger.

- Dad, I'm trying... trying to make this work. - He answers, but his words come out more like a ragged excuse than a defense.

Logan doesn't contain himself, the contempt on his clear face.

- Is that what you call trying? Throwing the family name in the mud, as always? And now, on top of that, humiliating your son's mother in this shitty game? - He advances, his voice threatening. - If you had a minimum of honor, you would propose to this girl today, now. I would put an end to this circus of horrors with Naomi and, at least once in my life, act like a man.

Kendall, feeling the weight of pressure and humiliation, tries to defend herself stronger this time, her voice slightly raised.

- I love Naomi. It's not a joke. She and I are together, and... this is not something I can throw away.

Logan punches the table, knocking down the cutlery and attracting everyone's tense gaze.

- Is that what you call loving? Getting into drugs and parties with her, letting go of her responsibilities and dragging our reputation in the mud? Is this love for you? Fuck, Kendall, you don't even know what love is!

Shiv and Roman watched everything in silence, exchanging restless glances. The tension hung over the table like a heavy shadow, and even Marcia seemed to have lost her smile. As soon as you returned, you noticed the charged air and the way everyone took a deep breath, with the contained expressions of those who tried to disguise a storm. Márcia still tried to break the ice, kindly asking if you were better, but the energy of the room already said it all: something serious had happened.

On the way back, you and Kendall shared the car. He kept his gaze fixed on the window, in a thick silence that you respected, feeling that he needed space to digest his father's harsh words. Logan had this destructive ability to pull out every drop of joy from Kendall, using nothing but a few well-calculated words. You didn't know what had been said, but you didn't need to ask to understand the impact either.

When the car stopped in front of your building, you hesitated for a moment before opening the door. Instead, you placed your hand gently on his shoulder, a silent gesture of support. He kept looking forward, his jaw tense, and you saw the sadness contained in the features of his face. He took a deep breath and got a little closer, with a tone of voice as soft as it could be.

- I don't know what he told you... - you started, hesitating for a moment to choose the words. - But I know how much it hurts you, how much he can get into your mind.

Kendall didn't answer, but her face trembled slightly, as if she was going to break any second. You squeezed his shoulder a little more firmly, an anchoring gesture.

- I just want you to know that... that doesn't define who you are. You are much more than the way he sees you. And... - Your voice became a little firmer, but still soft. - No matter how difficult things get, I'm with you, Ken. We're going to go through all this.

Kendall finally turned to you, with teary eyes. He seemed on the verge of falling apart, the words stuck in his throat, the weight of a lifetime in a look. Before he said anything, he pulled you into a hug, tight and silent, as if that gesture was the only thing keeping him standing. You held him tight, running your hand over his back in a comforting caress.

- It's okay, Ken... I'm here. - You murmured, in a soft tone, letting him feel the sincerity of each word.

There, in that hug, you realized that, as much as the world around you collapsed, he felt safe by your side. And in the silence, between heavy breaths and tight hugs, you knew he found a little peace.

___________________________________

A few days have passed since that dinner, and somehow, in his calculated manipulation, Logan got exactly what he wanted: the weight of the provocations brought you and Kendall closer. But that only marked the beginning of the chaos. Logan's "brilliant" idea was to gather the whole family on the boat, for a celebration on the high seas that anyone could see that was just another pretext for him to throw fuel on the fire. Kendall was sunk in another crisis with Naomi. Since learning of the pregnancy, the relationship between the two became increasingly unstable, as if it were on the verge of collapse. She freaked out, reacting with intensity and anguish, and maybe he was an idiot in telling everything when she was still stoned. But Kendall insisted that nothing between them would change. Maybe he really wanted to believe it, and the boat seemed like a last attempt to show her that there was room for everyone - if not for her, then for himself to believe that it was.

When you arrived at the boat, later that day, Naomi was already there, but she didn't seem comfortable. She held herself in silence while watching Logan receive you with a warm smile, something rare for him. He pulled you into a hug and gave you a look that bordered on affection.

- There she is. You look absolutely beautiful! - he said, and you smiled in response, exchanging a funny look with Shiv, who was next to him, holding back his laughter.

Naomi observed everything with an expression that oscillated between discomfort and contained envy. It was rare for her to see Logan be affectionate with someone, much less with Kendall, and that scene, no matter how much she tried to ignore it, hit her hard. Even if she hated to admit it, she knew Logan was right: the pregnancy made you radiant, in a way that seemed to intensify the contrast between you. She noticed how you moved with a kindness and grace that escaped you, and saw how even the setting sun seemed to frame your image, with the breeze making your dress sway slightly on your belly. It was obvious to her now, the reason why Kendall loved you, or - and the doubt about which verb tense to use corroded her - maybe she still loved you. The uncertainty of the answer made something in his chest tighten.

Later that night, the family gathered on the outer sofas of the boat. The low lighting left the sky dark in contrast to the light tone of the provocations, the acid jokes and the laughter loaded with irony. You tried to maintain a minimum of cordiality, but you knew that, in the Roy dynamics, every attempt at peace was superficial, about to be broken at any moment.

Frank, however, watched everything with a closer look. He knew you better than anyone, and saw under your smile the loneliness you tried to hide. He knew that, with all the changes, his mother's presence would make a huge difference, and it made him feel overwhelmingly guilty for no longer being able to be there for you, to be the support you needed. But his biggest concern was in Kendall. When he saw Logan's son lost in a stormy and distracted relationship, he felt a lump in his stomach. He knew that, even with all the flaws, you trusted Kendall, and now, while he got lost with Naomi, Frank felt a growing anger when he saw you there, being one of the few people willing to make Naomi feel welcomed, while he himself failed to give you the protection he would like.

Naomi knew that too. I saw that, among everyone there, you were one of the only ones to treat her with kindness. And while she hated herself for feeling that discomfort, she also realized that, in your presence, something inside her broke in comparison, and she found herself, for a second, wanting to have the serenity that you emanated.

The night followed with laughter and disguised looks, but the tiredness gradually began to weigh. Frank kept watching you, with the eyes of a father who understood too much about the weight of that family and knew what each unspoken word cost you. When you finally asked permission to leave, he followed you with his eyes until you disappeared down the corridor, with a single certainty: if Kendall was not able to be by your side in that chaos, he would need to be.

Later that night, silence hovered heavy over the yacht's deck, enveloped by the darkness and stillness of the open sea. Kendall was alone, his hands resting on the wall, watching the trembling reflection of the lights in the ocean. Thoughts swirled in his mind, turbulent like the waves, until he heard soft footsteps approaching, almost imperceptible.

Logan stood next to him, but didn't say anything right away. He just stood there, with his gaze fixed on the horizon, allowing the discomfort to insinuate itself in the air. Finally, he broke the silence, the low and calm voice, almost paternal.

- You know, son... - Logan murmured, without looking away from the dark waters. - I've been thinking about something. - He paused, letting the tension accumulate. Kendall, feeling the weight of the words that would come, straightened up, preparing for the clash.

Logan gave a smile that couldn't reach his eyes, a rehearsed, calculated smile. - I want you to understand that I have nothing against Naomi, I... like her, really. - The pause was long enough to be uncomfortable, and he let out a restrained sigh before continuing. - But you know, this weekend... should be about the family.

Kendall furrowed her eyebrows, her jaw stiffening as she absorbed what came next. Logan knew exactly how to press his weaknesses, and each word seemed strategically chosen to probe his son's defenses.

- I understand that you want to be with your girlfriend, of course. - Logan tilted his head slightly, with a tone of rehearsed understanding, which bordered on condescension. - But don't you think that maybe... maybe it's time for you to focus more on the woman who is carrying your child?

Kendall's breath was stuck for a second. He felt a pang of irritation go through his body, but instead of exploding, he restrained himself, as always. He looked at his father, trying to keep his tone firm, but he couldn't stop some of the tension from filtering into his voice.

- Where do you want to get with this, dad? - he said, his voice low and controlled.

Logan caught the slight tremor in the question, an indication that he was on the right track. He leaned slightly forward, in an almost intimate gesture, his voice softening like someone who advises a disoriented son.

- I think maybe... it's a good idea for Naomi to come home tomorrow. - He made a theatrical pause, letting the suggestion hover in the air, accompanied by a meticulously calculated sigh. - Of course, the decision is yours, but it's evident that she feels out of place near us, you realize, don't you? The way she avoids conversations, how it seems... out of place. It wouldn't be fair to force her to stay in an environment where she clearly doesn't feel comfortable.

Kendall looked away, feeling her father's familiar and uncomfortable pressure. He knew that Logan didn't say anything by chance; every word, every pause, every sigh had a clear purpose, a direct line for control.

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the pressure of the conversation tighten in his mind. The dark sea ahead seemed inviting, a place where he could dive and escape Logan's overwhelming presence. But when he opened his eyes, his father was still there, watching him with that penetrating and almost pious look.

- You always talk about family, dad... - Kendall murmured, trying to keep the tone neutral, but the resentment flowed into every syllable. - But this, this situation... - He gestured vaguely to the vast and opulent yacht, to the oppressive silence of the night. - It's you who makes the rules. The only thing that matters is what you want.

Logan smiled sideways, a smile that carried a trace of contained victory. He leaned even closer, his voice now low and sharp, leaving the paternal tone aside.

- Do you think I do this for myself, Kendall? - he said, his voice almost a whisper, but every word seemed to resonate in the silence around. - I do this for you, for all of you. Because you, my son, need someone to keep you on the right track.

Kendall felt the weight of those words like a punch. Logan knew exactly where to touch, knew where Kendall was most vulnerable. He wanted to answer, he wanted to say that he didn't need anyone to guide him, but the reality was that those words made him falter. Logan leaned a little further, taking advantage of the moment of hesitation.

- Naomi doesn't understand this, Kendall. - Logan continued, now with an engaging, almost hypnotic voice. - She's not like us. You don't know what it means to be part of this family, what it means to hold the weight of a legacy like ours. And now you have even greater responsibilities. He's about to become a father. And what does a father do, if not think about the well-being of the family?

Kendall looked away, feeling the confusion increase inside him. Logan noticed every little reaction and took advantage of them like a conductor conducting a symphony.

- Dad... - Kendall murmured, almost in a tone of supplication, but his voice failed, and he didn't know exactly what he was trying to say. He didn't want to give in, but somehow, his father had put him against the wall, reminding him of all the times he had failed, every time he needed Logan's hand to guide him - or, worse, to get him out of some hole.

Logan, seeing the hesitation, put a firm hand on Kendall's shoulder, squeezing in a way that almost hurt, but that seemed full of a distorted affection.

- Kendall, son... we all make mistakes. I made mistakes. But I learned. And you? - He tilted his head, as if he was analyzing it deeply. - Don't you think it's time to start making better choices? To think beyond yourself? If she doesn't fit... maybe it's because she just doesn't belong in this world. Not like your son's mother...

Kendall swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in her throat. He wanted to scream, he wanted to free himself from that hand that pressed him while offering the support that he, paradoxically, felt he always sought. Anger and guilt mixed inside him, clouding his thoughts.

- I... - He started, but the words escaped him.

How could he defend Naomi? Or even yourself? I was trapped, once again, in the meticulously built wet by Logan.

Logan softened his expression, smoothing Kendall's shoulder as a final gesture of consolation and control.

- Think about it, son. Tomorrow morning, talk to her. Say it's better this way. For her sake. - Logan smiled, the kind of smile a beast would give when releasing the prey. - And for the good of the family.

He then walked away, leaving Kendall on the deck, alone with his thoughts that now seemed to scream inside him.

___________________________________

Lying on the lounger, you gave yourself to the tranquility of that calm morning over the sea. The horizon was vast and silent, with the slight movement of the waves reflecting the sunlight, while a gentle wind brought the salty breeze to you. The distant sound of the seagulls and the swing of the boat seemed to create a subtle melody, almost like a whisper of nature, rocking their thoughts.

That loneliness was exactly what you needed. There were no voices, no presence or interference. Only the heat of the sun spreading through your skin and the clear sky extending above, without any expectation or charge. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, letting the aroma of the ocean invade your lungs and, as you exhaled, you felt a rare peace settle in your chest.

Instinctively, his hands rested on the curve of his belly, his fingers tracing a light and careful affection. The touch gave you a soft smile, as if you were sharing a silent secret with the being that grew inside you. I wasn't as lonely as it seemed - there was a silent and precious company there, a life that shared that intimate moment, connected to you in a unique and deep way.

At that moment, silence became his refuge. Without family dramas, without the dilemmas that Kendall brought, without Naomi's shadow or Logan's vigilant gaze. It was just you and your son, far from everything and everyone, enveloped by an impenetrable calm. It was as if, for a few precious minutes, the world had stopped to respect this connection.

The silence that followed the confrontation with his own thoughts was abruptly interrupted by the approaching steps. You opened your eyes slowly, letting the heat of the sun caress your skin for another moment, until a smile, soft and natural, opened when you saw who was approaching.

It was his father, in an unexpected version of himself, with casual clothes and sunglasses that, somehow, always seemed to be an extension of his reserved personality. He held a small cup of coffee, the steam rising gently and dissipating in the hot morning air.

- Hi, dear. Have you eaten yet? - His question, simple and direct, brought a feeling of welcome. The way he cared about you never stopped warming his heart, and at that moment, it seemed even more significant.

- I'm still an adult, dad. Don't worry so much. - You replied with a smile, trying to ease a little the tension that was already beginning to form.

His gaze softened, but you noticed that he was thinking of the right words. The silence settled for a moment, the sound of the waves and the wind filling the void between you. Frank seemed to measure his thoughts before finally speaking.

- How are you? - He asks, and the hesitation in his tone made you a little strange. Your father never left hiding his feelings, but there was something different at that moment.

- I'm fine. - His answer was simple, direct, but his eyes didn't move away from him. You felt the need to understand more, to see beyond words. - And you? It looks like there's something bothering you.

He took a deep breath, adjusting to the chair next to him. The gesture was almost imperceptible, but you knew he was preparing for something important.

- Well, yes... - Frank begins, his voice loaded with a concern that he clearly didn't want to show. - I'm really worried about you, dear.

Before he could continue, you interrupted him gently, his tone gentler than expected.

- Dad, we've already talked about it. You don't need to think about it. - You smiled at him, but a part of you knew that he wasn't as calm as he said.

- I know already, but it still bothers me... - Frank straightens up in the chair, his eyes fixed on you, with an expression you didn't see often. He was tense, visibly uncomfortable. - Maybe Logan is right. Kendall needs to start getting real about her responsibilities. You shouldn't carry all this alone.

You sighed and looked away to the sea, the feeling that those words were becoming an uncomfortable truth taking care of your mind. That's what you feared, but hearing that from Frank, still, felt like a blow.

- Does he want to have a girlfriend? I understand that this is something personal, but letting her take this space... - Frank released an exasperated breath, irritation mixing with concern. - And bring her here? For this weekend? It's not being reasonable, for God's sake.

His father's words unfolded as if he was just putting his own thoughts out loud. But deep down, you knew he was right at some points, and the pain of that seemed to deepen.

- Dad... - You interrupted him with a soft smile, getting up slowly, trying to dodge a conversation that already seemed heavier than you could handle. His eyes met his, which were full of a silent concern. As if I were ready to hold her in case something went wrong.

- I don't want to talk about it now, okay? - You spoke with a calm but firm tone. Frank, for a moment, seemed reluctant, but nodded, understanding that you needed space.

Without waiting for more answers, you began to walk away, a sigh of frustration escaping. Your brief moment of peace had been interrupted, and you didn't know if you could recover that.

A few meters away, Kendall said goodbye to Naomi while a smaller boat waited next door, the engines purring softly against the sound of the waves. The climate was dense, almost palpable, and every gesture seemed to weigh between them. Suitcases were carried out of the Roy's yacht, and Naomi watched the movement, holding her own anxiety with a calculated coldness.

Kendall gave him a last look of apology, his hands buried in the pockets of his pants, as if he could protect himself from the discomfort of the situation.

- I'm sorry, it's just that... my father thinks it's better this way, just for this weekend. - The justification came out low, hesitant, Kendall's voice almost getting lost in the soft noise of the sea.

Naomi stared at him in silence, her tired eyes reflecting a sadness mixed with resignation. For a moment, she hesitated before answering, as if she carefully chose the words. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, but firm.

- You know you can say no to him, don't you? - Her voice trembled, as if each word carried a weight that she could no longer support. He tried to sketch a smile, but it fell away in the air, fragile, like glass cracking before falling. - Or maybe you just don't want to say no... - Without waiting for an answer, he gave her a last look, a silent goodbye that said more than any word could.

As the smaller boat moved away, Naomi watched the scene with the strange feeling of watching a movie - a story in which she was never the protagonist, just a background figure, without the power to change the script. Kendall stood on the edge of the yacht, her hands still in her pockets, watching her leave with an indecipherable expression. Right behind him, Logan approached and watched the departure from his upper position, his hands also stuck in his pockets, but with a haughty and satisfied look, as if he had just won some subtle and cruel game.

Naomi's boat moved even further away, and her gaze wandered on the deck. She saw Frank standing at the other end of the yacht, in a similar posture, oblivious to her departure. Upstairs, Roman seemed to be in the middle of a joke that made you and Shiv laugh, the three of you oblivious to the silent drama that unfolded below.

At that moment, a feeling of exclusion took over Naomi. The vision of those familiar faces, all interconnected in a web of blood and ancient loyalties, made the truth hit her like a cold and cutting wave. Maybe she had never really fit into Kendall's life; maybe there was never a space reserved for her there, just a fleeting illusion of belonging in a world that, in the end, had always been too closed for her.

Part 2

A/N: Another one from Ken because he's been my obsession lately, hehe. Hope you like it! masterlist

[mswyrr]

People are very confused by femmes, aren't they? A femme girl who dreams of being another girl's wife is being very queer. Her femininity and desire to act as a lady wife isn't an object for anyone's use (as Otto and Viserys treated it), it's an expression of herself and her desire. It ought to be a source of pleasure for her, with the girl (or person of another gender) she loves, not a duty or obligation where she has to pour that out for just anyone. (Like Otto and Viserys treated it).

It is the difference between singing because you're happy and singing because someone is pointing a gun at you. "But you're a singer, you can do it and even like it, so why does it matter if you're being forced to or not?" Of course it matters! The context is everything. A woman who can enjoy being feminine and loving in a wifely way doesn't owe that to everyone; she should have the freedom to do it in ways that give her pleasure and satisfaction. Forcing her to do it when she doesn't want to--to be the lady wife of a gross old man when she wanted to be his daughter's wife--is a violation.

When thinking about queer women, people need to dismantle a whole lot of baggage heteropatriarchy has given them about what these feelings and roles have to mean - dismantle the rigidity and the idea that femininity is an object for use vs. a form of personal *expression*. This dismantling is something that needs to be done re: feminine straight women too, of course. (And the idea that straight women owe people femininity is nonsense: sexuality, gender, and gender expression are distinct things in a Venn diagram with each other).

A femme queer girl is just as radically queer (and whenever women do not accept their interpersonal femininity, feminine ways of loving, and their bodies as an object of use vs a cite of their own pleasure and expression that is inherently radical) as a futch or butch or etc queer girl.

Sure, a homophobe like Criston can look at Alicent and see a "normal woman" because she's feminine and assume that her love for Rhaenyra is due to Rhaenyra being the "unnatural woman" who "intoxicated" her... but that's because he's a homophobe who doesn't know wtf he's saying. His entire culture has trained him to be completely incapable of seeing what is right in front of his eyes.

The fact that huge swaths of modern day fandom truly aren't capable of comprehending queerness better than Criston Cole really makes me think about how shallow acceptance for queer people actually is. It's disheartening, to say the least.

People seem completely unaware, for example, of the "queer second adolescence" and how young and immature parts of a person can be until they get to come out and actually live as who they truly are vs who they've been forced to pretend to be? Which is why Alicent and Rhaenyra both act so young around each other in the Sept scene and finale scene...

There's also imo "split attraction" model at work here, where there's questions around what exactly their canon genders and sexualities are (beyond the fact that both are clearly queer!). But it's achingly obvious that they wanted each other desperately as girls and that Rhaenyra, in particular, has a special place in her heart for a homoromantic love of femme women like Alicent and Mysaria.

The whole season--from Criston and Aemond's conversation about how Alicent "holds love for the enemy" [where Criston plainly says Rhaenyra "intoxicated" Alicent!!] on to all the symbolism between them and the explicit (gay kiss with Mysaria!) and implicit (complex gender feels) stuff with Rhaenyra--is about how queer they are - canonically - and it all leads up to their final scene. People can disagree on how well that was executed. But it is a clear arc, developed throughout the season, and a valid artistic choice. And part of the problem with how a lot of people are "reading" the season is that they blankly refuse to see it. And once they do see it, they hate it and think it's an invalid artistic choice! But it's really not inherently invalid. It's simply not to some peoples' taste. Those are different things.

[drjae69]

ENJOY YOUR STAY . . .

It’s always the nice ones that get you . After weeks of long hours you need a break so you decide to use your paid time off now but what to do . You decide to try a new medical spa that you just found to hand opened nearby to you . The reviews were good and the patients were pleased with their stay there . After giving it some thought you decided to go for the week thinking what would you lose doing it? . Arriving there you checked in and sign the wavier at the front desk you barely read it but consented anyway thinking it was a responsibility waiver for the clinic . After walking through the main doors they took your bags and took you to be initially examined and after to your room . A sterile hospital like room two chairs a hospital bed and a hanging modern decent size TV . On the bed was a hospital gown , you were plainly asked to de cloth and wear it for your stay once you did, they took your regular clothes for safekeeping. You would relax on the bed for a little while before dinner came it was a nicer meal compared to a regular hospital, but given the asking price for your stay here it fit . While you ate you watched the TV which had streaming box with everything you could want from it . Soon it was bedtime in the light in the hallway went out along with yours so you want to bed . However, unbeknownst to you it would radically change overnight.

In the morning, you would awake dazed, and sore and with a warm moist feeling around your crock. Looking beside you a IV stand was now there with you hooked up to it . You would lay in bed feel around and with a shock would feel yourself urinating yourself confused you waited . Eventually, two nurses arrived you would ask what was wrong with you and you would find just that . One of the nurses would open the curtain. The other lifted your gown to expose a big bulky moist medical diaper. Very confused you would asked what they had done to you . One of the nurses would coldly reply to you according to the waive you signed you consented to any and all procedures, they deemed medically necessary for you including Surgically Induced Incontinence. Your face would go white as a realized what you agreed to absentmindedly before . Right before you could think further , the other nurse and proceeded to lift your legs into change you. Mortified you watched her change it out and spry urine and realizing what they had done to you . Once they had finished they said they would be back for you to take you out to see the rest of the spa. Sitting in your clean diaper you stared, motionless into the void coming to terms with this new reality. After being fed lunch you would be wheeled out to see the rest of it . The spa would indeed live up to the few images on the website and you would get to spend the quality time you wanted albeit diapered. You would interact with the other patients here all over which in various states of changed and all in diapers .

By the time you got back to your room and changed again you barely touched you dinner as as you contemplated going home in a weeks time now diapered thinking what needed to change now that you were this way and couldn’t go back . Over the next few days you would experience the most change since adolescence . The next morning, waking up to find a gastric feeding tube installed onto your stomach and then on being feed fluids and mashed up food in a IV bag . The following after morning come to find a new hysterectomy scar across your lower body . Midway through the week you awoke to find your self paralyzed from the waist down and everything beyond that numb and Ice to the touch now . For the next following days you acclimatize to an new motorized wheelchair they “gifted” you . When finally you’re stay included in discharged, you were a different person from when you had entered . Now Incontinence and Paralyzed you had to live this way for now on. Conveniently the Medical spa gave the necessary paperwork to make the transition as convenient as possible . Even went home eating was different instead of solid meals it was from an IV Bag through the gastric tube as your stomach had contracted due to the invasive medication in your IV bags to be unsuitable for solid food again. Returning to work traumatized and broken all you could do was remember the sign on the door of the medical spa “enjoy or stay”.



[musickool]

⋆♱✮♱⋆ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 ⋆♱✮♱

𝒌𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒔' 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔:

johnny utah, neo, jack traven & john wick: 'tragic hero' lovers - they would fight for your love undoubtedly, "sacrificing" themselves for the sake of the relationship

david allen griffin: 'yandere' lover - beguiling, male siren; psychotically obsessed, will literally kill anyone who gets in their way in favour of your love. probably stalk or kidnap you if he had to. he doesn't take no for an answer, he WILL get you and you WILL comply to him and his warped fantasies

ted logan: 'high school sweetheart' lover - innocent, goofy, dorky, neurodivergent boyfriend that cherishes you cutely as the "bodacious babe" you are, gradually growing up with you and marrying later on, solidifying the 'excellence'. childhood sweethearts....

you'll also have a daughter called Billie (i know, just don't ask.)

kevin lomax, donnie barksdale & johnny silverhand: 'toxic' lovers - first two are both dangerous men who will jeopardise the relationship selfishly for themselves. one is a greedy lawyer who sold his soul and one is a hillbilly redneck who's a serial wife-beater & racist. one, however, is just a sleazy foul-mouthed terrorist who holds strong radical, anti-mainstream beliefs. he's not dangerous like the other two but he is not a nice guy

julian mercer: 'the ideal type' lover - this guy is an all-in-one, a dream come true, sent from heaven, everything you'd wish in a man is him. he is perfect. husband material core, the dream man ™

alex wyler: 'soulmate' lover - predestined love wandering aimlessly in an alternate world. your souls are meant for each other but you just don't know yet or you don't exist in the same timeline

john constantine: 'secret' lover - he has a deep crush on you but doesn't tell you, for some reason. probably because of his ego to just maintain that cool guy aura, or he's just a shy guy

scott favour: 'friends with benefits/affair' lover - a short bittersweet romance that was full of deep sensuality & soulful friendship but he'd eventually break it off to go back to his wealthy life. don't be too disheartened, he still misses you

matt & rupert marshetta: 'typical teenage' lover - you guys were best friends but decided to turn that spark into romance. you're both teenagers and most likely aware of the notoriously short expiry dates of young adolescent love but it's nice to live in the moment

[cursedvida]

SAD EYES, BROKEN SMILE V (Buggy x f!Reader)

PART IV // PART VI

WARNINGS: Smut, Minors DNI please go away. I mean masturbation, dirty talk, vaginal fingering and a lot of +18 things babies.

N/A: From now to the end the series are starting to be very hot, sorry not sorry. But yeah porn with feelings.

The confrontation with the marines was not complicated, it was just a ship without a very powerful captain, so it was quite easy to finish them off. As everyone witnessed -part- of your skills, you decided not to hold back in a battle anymore. You didn't show your full potential either, just enough to get rid of a few cadets while leaving Buggy free to show off in front of the whole crew.

At the end of the battle, Buggy decides to celebrate the victory using the barrels you stole from the navy ship. Another party of many on Buggy's pirate ship, it almost seems like a habit to end up all drunk on beer and rum. You must admit you've never drunk so often before.

While the musicians begin to play a song and you hear the laughter of some of your crewmates, you feel that someone is watching you. Buggy has his eyes on you, those eyes that you like so much and that you have imagined looking at you that way a thousand times. You feel the lust and desire in them, which excites and overwhelms you in equal parts. Buggy pretends to listen to his subordinates while still paying attention to you, he takes a sip from his beer mug without taking his eyes off you. You watch him from the corner of your eye, not taking your mind off what has happened this morning: the wet taste of his mouth, his hands roaming your body, his fingers in places no other man has touched. You swallow saliva, you want him as much as he wants you, you feel a tightness in your chest too great, you feel like something inside you is going to explode.

You need some air, so you decide to withdraw for a moment, get away from the people. You go down to the cellars so you can breathe for a moment. You think that you are being unconscious, that you are getting too carried away. Who is this person non capable of thinking clearly? Since when do you let yourself be carried away by absurd desires and give up a mission on a whim? That's not you, you don't recognize yourself. You've never had time for that kind of nonsense, why is it different now? Why with him?

"Do you like to meet in this place?"

You recognize that voice instantly. As you look up there is Buggy, your captain, standing in front of you with his eyes bright from the contrast they make with the dim light in the room. You keep wondering what his face must look like without so much makeup, what his lips must taste like without the aftertaste of face paint. You lose your senses again and all the questions and reproaches you asked yourself earlier disappear.

"I thought you wouldn't remember" you say in a whisper "you were really drunk that night."

Buggy approaches you slowly, never taking his eyes off you. When he's at your level he lifts your chin gently with his fingers.

"Not that much" he admits, cocking a smile.

Your heart starts pounding at the thought of him maybe kissing you at a moment's notice. At times like this you wish your life had been otherwise, more normal, less violent. Then you could have had an ordinary adolescence, met some boys, had some experiences. So, at least now you wouldn't feel so ridiculous for not knowing how to react when a man calls out to you.

You look away, somewhat self-consciously.

"You fought very well today…" You comment shyly, radically changing the subject.

"I admit I went too far" he forces your chin to look back at him "but it's just that those suckers interrupted me at a very important moment, and I really can't stand that."

A nervous giggle escapes you. God, what a fool you are. You feel ashamed of yourself.

"Buggy, I…" You move closer to him, melting into an embrace. His smell makes you feel good, in a safe place.

The captain doesn't know how to react, after your hot encounter this morning he thought you were going to go on the lust attack without too much thought, but that embrace so warm, so intimate, has caught him totally off guard. Today he watched you fight, he watched with pleasure as you knocked out those navy pigs without ruffling your hair, it made him even hornier than he already was. But when you hug him like that, like someone holding on to an iron beam so as not to lose his balance, he realizes that maybe you were right and he was really underestimating your feelings. That maybe not a purely sexual attraction.

"I don't know what's wrong with you" you confess, hiding your face in his chest so you don't have to look him in the face "But you make me feel so silly."

"Well, that happens to a lot of people when they discover my incredible wit" he boasts, trying to take the intensity out of the situation.

"It's not because of that" you reply softly "it's just… I really like you a lot. I'm not playing games."

And he realizes then how vulnerable you are being in his arms. Your honesty about emotions is something that always catches him off guard but at the same time touches him. How can you be so insanely honest? Fuck, it feels like you're playing at leaving him unarmed.

"I want you so badly," you tell him in a whisper, and it unleashes all his most primal instincts.

Buggy lets out a sort of wild animal-like growl. You then notice how he lifts you into the air, sitting on one of the barrels in the hold. You are now almost at the same height. He looks you in the eyes again, his nose brushing yours.

"You're a dangerous little girl" he strokes your hair with an open hand and a certain paternal air "very dangerous."

At that moment you give him a gentle kiss on his nose. It's something you've wanted to do for a long time because, contrary to what he thinks, you don't find it horrible, but appetizing in a way. You don't know how he's going to react to such an action, but when his gaze changes, turning wild, you know you've pressed a button from which there's no turning back.

The next thing you know, Buggy has taken hold of your neck, kissing it, biting it, leaving a trail of red paint on your smooth skin. You've triggered his wild side, his hands are no longer as soft and slow as they were this morning, now they don't hesitate to strip off your shirt, leaving you in your bra. His mouth runs down your collarbones, down your chest and finally you notice how his tongue begins to slurp the top of your breasts. On the other hand, his hands run along your waist, down to your buttocks to remove the shorts you are wearing. Before you know it you are almost naked in front of him, noticing how your cheeks suddenly turn red.

You grab his hair, pulling off his hat and then his bandana to realize that his hair is actually longer than you imagined. Strands of blue hair falling over his face. You notice your cheeks red again, for some reason you find him more handsome than ever.

"Buggy, I've never…" you're embarrassed to even say it, seeing him so thrown. He looks at you, his pupils dilated with excitement "I've never… been like this with anyone."

The idea of being the first one able to go that far with you doesn't seem to disgust him, quite the opposite. There is a smirk on his face, he feels so full of himself. He knows that you are giving him a privilege that you have not wanted to bestow on anyone else, only him, which swells his pride considerably.

"Then I'll have to make sure you have a great time," he replies to you, mischief in his gaze.

He spreads your legs then and bends down slightly, removing your panties to expose the most intimate part of you. You notice your cheeks light up just before you feel your whole face burning. Buggy is kneeling, staring at your crotch with an almost famished expression.

"Don't do that, I'm embarrassed."

He lets out a laugh just before he approaches your wetness. That's when you gasp at the contact of his tongue with your intimacy. Buggy starts to move his tongue expertly, trying to find your clit, while you do your best not to lose your balance. One of your hands goes to his hair, while the other tries to hold on to the barrel. You feel totally vulnerable, exposed to this man who has decided to make of you whatever he wants because you let him. His tongue running along your pussy, finding that sensitive area that makes you let out a huge moan of pleasure.

"Mmm, there it is" he relishes, looking at you for a moment.

You watch him, panting, spread-eagled in an absolutely obscene position that, at the same time, excites you enormously. You love being at his mercy, moaning every time his tongue caresses your clitoris, sucking expertly as you let out sighs and sounds you never thought could come out of your mouth.

"Fuck little girl, it's fucking wonderful when you growl like that" he comments just before he starts eating you again.

You notice how he has pulled his hands away from your body. As he continues to lick your pussy, he removes his gloves in midair. His hands go to your back, unclasping your bra. You are now totally naked before him. Your breasts glisten in the light of the room, your nipples are erect and Buggy's hands begin to caress them, pinching them as his tongue works faster and faster.

You let out a cry of pleasure, you can't repress it, there are too many sensations at once.

Buggy makes one of his hands reconnect with your arm, pulls his face away and starts stroking you with one of his fingers. As he jerks you off, he sits up slightly, moving closer to you. His makeup is smudged. He gets close to your ear as he inserts one of his fingers into your vagina.

"You have no fucking idea how you have me right now" he comments, as you hold your breath as you feel him insert himself into your cavity "Fuck, gorgeous, you're so tight. I think we're going to have to do some work on this."

You hold onto his neck so you don't lose your balance as you feel his finger advance inside you. Buggy grabs your wrist, pulling your hand to his crotch. You can feel the huge bulge, hard and throbbing, noticeable under his pants.

"See?" he asks, staring at you before kissing you. His mouth is salty, tasting of your own fluids, something that manages to turn you on even more "That's how you got me. That's how you get me my little minx."

"Buggy…" you moan. Slipping your hand under his pants to touch his erect member. You've never done anything like this before, but instinctively you begin to move your hand, guided by the expressions of pleasure he puts on "Like this?"

"Perfect. Mmmm... good girl" he growls, sinking his head into your neck.

He pulls his finger out from inside you and starts stroking your clit while you do the same with his member. You both start moaning at the same time, Buggy looks at you then, notices your half-open mouth, your burning cheeks, your watering eyes. He revels in that virgin face discovering sex while you try your best to give him back all the pleasure he's giving you.

"You're a insane craziness" he whispers to you without taking his eyes off you "you're going to fuck my life".

You are not able to answer him anything, you notice that you are close to orgasm, each time the waves of pleasure are bigger and bigger.

"Buggy, I think… I think…"

"Hold on a little, baby girl. I'm almost there."

You try to hold back, biting your lower lip trying to stifle your moans. You wiggle his cock quickly, noticing how he gasps slightly. He wiggles his finger more as well. You both start moaning at the same time.

"I'm going to fucking cum" he gasps.

"Me too" you moan, almost unable to hold it in.

"Fuck!"

At that moment you notice how pleasure invades your whole body, rising from your lower belly to all your extremities. Your legs even tremble, you can't modulate your moans, you start to scream disconsolately as your body fills with spasms. You feel your vision blur for a few moments and, when you want to realize it, you are half dead on one of his arms while the hand holding his cock is completely stained. He has also cum and his face is resting on your tits, breathing heavily. You feel your heart racing.

"Fuck me" he sighs, looking up.

For some reason you see him looking more handsome than ever, more attractive than any other time. At that moment, if he asked you for anything, you'd go to hell itself. He gently pulls you up. With the hand that was holding you so you wouldn't fall, he pushes your hair away from your face. He smiles then, looking quite pleased.

"You're definitely going to ruin me."

And then he lets out a tremendous laugh.

[lgbtqiamuslimpedia]

Boyah

Boyah (plural: Boyat) was subcultural identity of AFAB non-binary,tomboy,demi girl & trans-masculine folks of Persian Gulf. Boyat are asigned female at birth,but express gender atypical behaviour. The origin of this queer subculture is unclear, some boyat claimed that it was started through online forums & groups. [citation needed]

Boyah subculture was more visible in Gulf states (including Kuwait,Oman,Saudi Arabia,UAE,Bahrain). Boyah identity may fall under the modern Transgender and Non-binary umbrella. However some people may considered them as people of forth gender.

Sexuality

Boyat folk's sexuality can be confusing in various cultural contexts. Most of the Boyat had intimate and romantic relationships with cis-girls in their past life, but they do not consider themselves as homosexual.

The term Boyah itself does not mean lesbian in arabic.In later life many Boyat had to pursue a heterosexual marriage & had children.Because marriage is a obligatory in local arabic customs.In addition to this, some boyah were androsexual & interested in boys only.

Culture & Lifestyle

Trans-masculine/tomboys/AFAB non-binary/AFAB genderpunk took the “Boyah” cultural identity in their early adolescence. On the otherhand, some boyat took the male role to challenge societal gender norms and stereotypes in Arabic Gulf States.

In general, a boyah is characterized by no make-up, no feminine expressions, no feminine name,feminine pronouns.In boyah subculture, Boyat community may use a massive masculine watches.Boyat people worn loose-fitting male cloth with a touch of the military, vibrantly coloured dresses,shirts and boyah jeans(which are baggy with big prints all over them). Since the age of internet Arab's boyat community started informal groups,online forums.

Most of the boyat have to lead double lives because gulf states has strict cultural gender roles especially for womxn.Many of them are forced to get married.In general Boyah phenomena is considered a disgrace to an arab family's honour.Additionally atypical gender expression is seems to be indecent and deviant in GCC states.Many boyat face stigma for not adhering with rigid patriarchal gender roles.

After leaving home, many undergo a radical transformation,changing their clothes at school/college or a friend's house.While in transition ,they run no real risk of being caught because,while in public, Emirates women are required to wear the national dress - a long black over-garment called an abaya, which makes it easier to switch roles without drawing attention.

Media

In general, Gulf media portrays queerness in negetive ways. A Boyah named Abeer appeared on the Saudi TV Show “Ya Hala” where he/ze said that he/ze was attracted to women while still at school. He/Ze had a complete love relationship with a classmate for a long time. Another person named Hamood joined a show of Radio Sawa where he/ze explained ze was rebelling against social (gender) norms and his/zee family’s restrictions through this boyah phenomena.

On a national television of UAE, a boyah named Bandar openly spoke about his queer relationship with another girl and expressed the desire to marry her and have children with her through IVF. His statement on Abu Dhabi's national television shocked the whole nation.

Decline of Boyah Culture

In the Persian Gulf region, boyah identity became very controversial since 2007. In 2007, the Kuwaiti parliament amended Article 198 of the country’s penal code so that anyone “imitating the opposite sex in any way” could face up to a year in jail and/or a fine of 1,000 dinars ($3,500). A further problem was that the law made no attempt to define “imitating the opposite sex” So it was basically left to the discretion of the police. Within a couple of weeks at least 14 people had been arrested in Kuwait City & thrown into prison. Boyat made their debut as a public concern in 2008 when Dubai police denounced cross-dressing - its chief, Dahi Khalfan Tamim, called on the Ministry of Social Affairs to find out how widespread the practice is and what causes it.

In 2009, Dubai launched a public campaign under the slogan "Excuse Me, I am a Girl", which cautioned against “masculine” behaviour among AFAB queers & tomboys and aimed to steer them towards "femininity". The impetus for this was a moral panic which swept through several Gulf states at that time, regarding the Boyah phenomena. 2 months after announcing the campaign the police persecuted 40 people (for their gender atypical expression), imprisoned them for 3 years in jail.In addition, trans-masculine/trans males,trans women,gender-queers were also shamed & abused by the UAE's police team.

Public Attitudes

Many conservative patriarchal arab people see a greater danger in the Boyah subcultural practices; they fear it can become permanent and cause great distress for the women and their families.

Psychiatrist Yousef Abou Allaban says, "It can go extreme, where they change their sex and have an operation.'' Saudi journalist Yousef Al-Qafari said in an interview on Radio Sawa that family disintegration and lack of true love have led women to act like a man. Al-Qafari said education was the best way to tackle this phenomenon.He called on the Ministry of Education to take up this role.

Social worker Nadia Naseer said, “Families play an essential role in such cases. Families should monitor their female members, especially when they start acting like men by cutting their hair short, wearing men’s clothing, or refusing to wear women’s accessories”. She also said, when a girl or woman does this,she is looking for attention & sending a message that she is a boyah.

Saudi writer Randa Alsheikh, in one of her columns, said that she attended a social gathering where she saw a group of females who appeared almost completely like men.“I would not be exaggerating if I say I could not tell the difference between them and men,” she wrote.She said that they looked, talked and walked like men & “even worse” some appeared to be in their 40s. We need to quickly address this phenomenon to contain these girls so that they are able to build good families and a healthy society,”

[himedanshicult]

"...there is so much to stifle our negativity, to smother our scream. Our anger is constantly fired by experience, but any attempt to express that anger is met by a wall of absorbent cotton wool. We are met with so many arguments that seem quite reasonable. There are so many ways of bouncing our scream back against us, of looking at us and asking why we scream. Is it because of our age, our social background, or just some psychological maladjustment that we are so negative? Are we hungry, did we sleep badly or is it just pre-menstrual tension? Do we not understand the complexity of the world, the practical difficulties of implementing radical change? Do we not know that it is unscientific to scream?

And so they urge us (and we feel the need) to study society, and to study social and political theory. And a strange thing happens. The more we study society, the more our negativity is dissipated or sidelined as being irrelevant. There is no room for the scream in academic discourse. More than that: academic study provides us with a language and a way of thinking that makes it very difficult for us to express our scream. The scream, if it appears at all, appears as something to be explained, not as something to be articulated. The scream, from being the subject of our questions about society, becomes the object of analysis. Why is it that we scream? Or rather, since we are now social scientists, why is it that they scream? How do we explain social revolt, social discontent? The scream is systematically disqualified by dissolving it into its context. It is because of infantile experiences that they scream, because of their modernist conception of the subject, because of their unhealthy diet, because of the weakening of family structures: all of these explanations are backed up by statistically supported research. The scream is not entirely denied, but it is robbed of all validity. By being torn from 'us' and projected on to a 'they', the scream is excluded from the scientific method. When we become social scientists, we learn that the way to understand is to pursue objectivity, to put our own feelings on one side. It is not so much what we learn as how we learn that seems to smother our scream. It is a whole structure of thought that disarms us.

And yet none of the things which made us so angry to start off with have disappeared. We have learnt, perhaps, how they fit together as parts of a system of social domination, but somehow our negativity has been erased from the picture. The horrors of the world continue. That is why it is necessary to do what is considered scientifically taboo: to scream like a child, to lift the scream from all its structural explanations, to say 'We don't care what the psychiatrist says, we don't care if our subjectivity is a social construct: this is our scream, this is our pain, these are our tears. We will not let our rage be diluted into reality: it is reality rather that must yield to our scream. Call us childish or adolescent if you like, but this is our starting point: we scream.'"

-John Holloway, The Scream

[probablyasocialecologist]

The regulatory impact of GnRH [gonadotropin-releasing hormone] agents on society strongly depends on their socio-epistemic and discursive framing informed by political preconceptions. From a conservative epistemological angle these pharmaceutical agents are oftentimes understood in terms of social engineering and regulatory control. This understanding seems to predominate in conservative media and transgender exclusive radical feminist circles, as most recently the example of the unhinged tirades of the adult film actress and activist Lily Cade underscore. In conspiratory mindsets the use of puberty blockers is framed as part of the (imaginary!) “great replacement.” By demasculinizing and defeminizing western adolescents “the elites” would pave the way for a “new world order.” Yet also in less radical conservative imaginations GnRH agents evoke visions of social control and regulation, as their framing as a remedy for the deviant behavior of sexual predators shows. The cognitive dissonance between the framing of both uses as “dangerous” and “desirable” is significant for the distribution of an individual’s imagined worth in society. The diversity affirming use of GnRH agents stands in stark contrast to this notion. These ideas are not about controlling people’s bodies but about enabling individual agency, especially over gender-specific roles in society. The possibility of using a simple pharmaceutical agent to give young people who want to transition control over their own bodies fundamentally contradicts the social regulatory narrative. This leads to incommensurability and reframing of the use of puberty blockers in the conservative social-technical paradigm, as exemplified by conservative alarmist ideas. The simple act of self-efficacy of a young person is thus elevated to a fundamental affront.

22 December 2021

[haggishlyhagging]

Pain is an essential part of the grooming process, and that is not accidental. Plucking the eyebrows, shaving under the arms, wearing a girdle, learning to walk in high-heeled shoes, having one's nose fixed, straightening or curling one's hair—these things hurt. The pain, of course, teaches an important lesson: no price is too great, no process too repulsive, no operation too painful for the woman who would be beautiful. The tolerance of pain and the romanticization of that tolerance begins here, in preadolescence, in socialization, and serves to prepare women for lives of childbearing, self-abnegation, and husband-pleasing. The adolescent experience of the "pain of being a woman" casts the feminine psyche into a masochistic mold and forces the adolescent to conform to a self-image which bases itself on mutilation of the body, pain happily suffered, and restricted physical mobility. It creates the masochistic personalities generally found in adult women: subservient, materialistic (since all value is placed on the body and its ornamentation), intellectually restricted, creatively impoverished. It forces women to be a sex of lesser accomplishment, weaker, as underdeveloped as any backward nation. Indeed, the effects of that prescribed relationship between women and their bodies are so extreme, so deep, so extensive, that scarcely any area of human possibility is left untouched by it.

Men, of course, like a woman who "takes care of herself." The male response to the woman who is made-up and bound is a learned fetish, societal in its dimensions. One need only refer to the male idealization of the bound foot and say that the same dynamic is operating here. Romance based on role differentiation, superiority based on a culturally determined and rigidly enforced inferiority, shame and guilt and fear of women and sex itself: all necessitate the perpetuation of these oppressive grooming imperatives.

The meaning of this analysis of the romantic ethos surely is clear. A first step in the process of liberation (women from their oppression, men from the unfreedom of their fetishism) is the radical redefining of the relationship between women and their bodies. The body must be freed, liberated, quite literally: from paint and girdles and all varieties of crap. Women must stop mutilating their bodies and start living in them. Perhaps the notion of beauty which will then organically emerge will be truly democratic and demonstrate a respect for human life in its infinite, and most honorable, variety.

-Andrea Dworkin, Woman Hating