#true women

[acecroft]

Angelina Jolie in True Women (1997)

[entremirada]

¿Cómo puedes decir que no me conoces? Yo te hablé al entrar al cuarto oscuro donde parodiaste el amor con mi amado. Yo te vi esmerándote escribir “gimo” al leer las palabras “te follo, cochinita”. Has huido a tu cueva en lo alto de la soberbia. Pero tú me conoces, sientes en tus vísceras el vínculo que has roto sólo porque tú no puedes construir nada. Te has dirigido a mí, aunque evadiendo mi persona. No soy ningún ser anónimo para ti.

¿Te parece vulgar mi desesperación? El ardor es un hombre viejo, enfermo, demolido, pero aun así no se le puede negar la condición de homo faber, que es lo que somos. Cada vez le tiemblan más las manos. Los médicos dicen que la medicación que toma se relaciona con la aparición temprana de las enfermedades neurodegenerativas. ¿Tú le cuidarás después de haber derrumbado su hogar? Tú y las o los demás. Sí, te nombro en género desconocido y en plural, porque después de presenciar las limitaciones de tu erotismo dudo que seas una mujer, y porque aquí hay hordas de desechos de lo humano como tú. Os parecéis a las lombrices en su afanoso arrastre entre sus propias heces para poder frotarse un poco más. Algunas piden regalos, otras se conforman con mantener vivo el vicio.

¿Te parece vulgar el llanto de los que sufrimos este engaño? ¿Acaso tampoco te acuerdas que la traición es el último infierno que puede levantar y dónde puede caer el ser humano? ¿Acaso es verdad lo primero que vi en ti: aterrador vacío del valor cualquiera?

[gay-otlc]

Idk I feel like "Men are responsible for their own actions, women aren't to blame for men being misogynistic" and "You do not have to tolerate bigotry from others, call them out on that shit" and "People may be less likely to become radicalized if they receive kindness and compassion" don't have to contradict each other

[parkchaeyoung4414]

Be a women who fixes another women´s crown without telling the world it was crooked

[hamletthedane]

Imagine telling somebody in 1995 that one day, Snoop Dog and Flavor Flav would both be beloved American icons highly associated with the Olympic Games. With Snoop acting as an official NBC commentator and carrying the actual Olympic torch in his 50s.

They would look at you like you were absolutely insane. What an incredible world we live in

[ot3]

i do fundamentally agree with the idea that stuff like 'man' and 'women' dont have to be mutually exclusive, people can identify as whatever they want, and gender is there to be played around with as much as anyone likes. but i do feel like we're seeing a trend amongst some subsets of people where they can't hold those beliefs and Also accept the fact that as it stands 'woman' is still a very real and important political class of people. like it really would be great if we were in a place culturally where gender categorizations werent very politically relevant. but they clearly are. and i feel like a lot of people in an attempt to find an understanding of gender that makes them more comfortable have subconsciously kind of abandoned a framework that calls for a structured women's lib movement.

and it's like, on one side you have large swathes of the population who still aren't fully sold on the whole 'women are people' thing. and then on the other side you have a group who correctly understand that the whole gender thing is pretty bullshit. but then, instead of using feminism as a platform to try and build towards a world that reflects those ideals politically they have just kind of retreated fully into idpol and abandoned the scraps of the feminist framework to the radfems to re-appropriate into. fucking. nouveau phrenology.

it just sucks man it feels like we're sort of at an all time low in regards to public interest in meaningful feminism that i've witnessed in my lifetime.

[kakushino]

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?” 

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

[bloominglegumes]

doodling and procrastinating on work rn but.hehhrhegfdfgdjdhf

[wedarkacademia]

From my pov, every woman's love language revolves around not needing to ask.

[theereina]

[mysharona1987]

Biden has the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever here.

[thesoftclubstoic]

Rachel True, circa late 90s, early 00s

[shidoutsukiomi]

I find it a bit strange how it's okay and normal to say trans men have 'afab privilege' but if you say trans women have 'amab privilege', that's bad and wrong and incorrect and also maybe you should kill yourself. strange stuff

somehow trans men were 'socialised female' and therefore can 'get away with being women' but trans women were not 'socialised male' and can't 'get away with being men' cos there's something inherently feminine, inherently queer about them.

though, i spent my whole life being called gay, getting asked if i was a butch lesbian, getting asked if i was a tranny, cos i wore pants [girls!] instead of skirts, cos i wore shirts [girls!] instead of blouses, cos i wouldn't wear dresses and would prefer [girls!] formal wear that weren't dresses, cos i liked bionicle instead of dolls, cos i played video games, cos i swore, cos i liked heavier music, cos my favourite colour wasn't pink, cos i wore caps. i would not say i fit into girlhood at all, actually.

but this masculinity was inherent to me, it still is, i couldn't and can not change it (despite trying, very hard, to my detriment) so i ALWAYS stuck out as being 'too masculine' for other girls. and then i come into queer spaces and i'm 'too masculine' for other queer people - but that's besides the point, currently.

so, currently, when i see people say 'trans women aren't "socialised male," that's not real, they always stick out as "other"' and then turn around and say 'trans men have afab privilege, they can be women to get away with things, they fit into girlhood so well' I can't help but become incredibly fucking frustrated. this is not true and actually it's something we have in common! neither of us were socialised 'correctly' cos we're both trans and raised amongst peers who were not trans!

everything from masculine girls to trans men do not fit into 'girlhood' cos masculinity is not what girlhood is meant to be. this shouldn't be hard to grasp. this is why the 'socialised' concept is bullshit cos it's founded on whatever was forced upon you as a kid and if you don't fit that standard you will not be socialised that way due to, in large part, being fucking ostracised from everyone else. and that doesn't mean there won't be things to unlearn, i know very many trans men who were very feminine for a long time and the opposite for trans women, but someone who clearly cannot fit what's being pushed onto them is going to come off as 'strange' and 'uncanny' to the people who can fit into what's pushed onto them.

but the way people talk about this really highlights to me that yous don't want to consider us trans in the first place - transness is for trans women and not for trans men, socialisation concepts are fake when it comes to trans women but real when it comes to trans men cos they're not really trans, 'amab privilege' would get you branded a TERF or radfem saying it to a trans woman but it's fine to say trans men, trans men have 'afab privilege' cos we're not trans, we're just women. you know until we get a little too rowdy and then we're not trans, we're just men.

maybe i'm just jaded and bitter. idk

[tyonfs]

considering this is an nct blog, i feel obligated to voice my stance regarding the news from sm today. to put it simply: i will always be on the victim's side. fuck taeil. i wish nothing but the worst for him and hope his victims are able to find peace

[goturtongue]

The Incredibly True Adventure of 2 Girls in Love (1995 dir. Maria Maggenti)