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amyleeryba · 3 years

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reseña no reseña de Lascivia

bueno he terminado la primer parte y estoy como en el capitulo 10 de lujuria segunda parte de esto y XDDDD chingado ya me ando peleando en face con morras defendiendo al pendejismo de christoper morgan y neta

me rio de janeiro

ay pinche morro neta xddddd

aqui hablamos con la verdad y mi oponion es mia sobre esto sobre este men y cosas asi sobre la igual de meca de rachel james asi que comencemos

todo empieza con rachel james, teniente de un tipo ejercito fbi escuadron lobo alpha buena dinamita onda spd emergencia haa

una locura este ejercito que esta en todos lados y pos ella esta en la base de londres y vive con una sirvienta latina o algo y su amiga que esta bien loca louisa (creo) total tiene un novio bratt que esta bien bueno, es amoroso celoso, todo controlado de familia ricachona y la suegra y la nuera no la quieren pero ellos se aman y bla bla bla, llevan cinco años y hasta ahi muy kiut todo el asunto ella regresa de sus vacaciones y resulta que tienen que ir a una cena con la hermana de bratt, sabrina y su esposo que hasta entonces rachel no lo ha visto que es tambien el beffi de bratt y la chingada

llegan a la cena y lo conocen al vato a christopher morgan que ay no

como empiezo a describir a este pendejete, en el libro lo describen como un adonis perfecto tan chulo que no se soporta a si mismo, pero un patan un total imbecil que hace que a vieja en la que fije la vista bolas! se le caen los calzones

osea el vato esta buenisimo y a la rachel se le hace agua la canoa por el morro casado con la hermana de su NOVIO todo bien todo correcto

que el christopher es coronel y sera jefe de jefes de la rachel en la cosa del ejercito la femf

total el vato esta mamadismo y buenisimo y esta chulo y todo, los ponen en una mision y en el camino los traicionan y se tienen que tirar en la selva y ahi pasan la noche y pos que mas, no aguantan la pasion que los corroe a los dos y cogen y ya

no hay mas

no hay vuelta atras no hay nada bonito solo eso, no se aguantan los hijos de la chingada y cogen en la selva

la rachel regresa con la cola entre las patas que se arrepiente y asi y el otro le vale madre porque machito verdad, ok, bueno total que le confiesa a la amiga a louisa y ella le dice

date al morro, ¿te gusta? date, estas chava, guapa ojos azules pelazo todos te quieren y se quieren coger al coronel pos date, tu que puedes ¿quien dice que no?

en casi todo el puto libro se la pasan viendola la cara de cornudo al bratt, quien se va a alemania a una mision encuebierto con unos terroristas o algo, y pos ella aca bien padre, se le solto la correa y ahi anda calenturienta como morra alborotada detras de ese wey denigrante que se anda cogiendo a media central, nomas porque la otra mitad son vatos si no ahi mero tambien les tocaba a ellos

grande el christopher ni seungri la tuvo tan facil, total se va rachel de vacaciones a hawaii con la familia del bratt y este morro castroso y ahi pasa de nuevo ahi con total descaro en las narices de la esposa que no quiere a la esposa solo se caso obligado y no se puede divorciar y pos el wey anda como vida de soltero chingandose a cuanta morra puede, y se la aplica un par de veces a la rachel, la bajonea, de golfa no la baja, la trata mal, se pone sus pinches moños de que si ellos se conocieron asi y ella le fue infiel a su wey de cinco años de relacion pos a el seguramente le pasara y pos no quiere a una vieja asi de infiel, no no, no vaya a ser malas que le toque a el y pobrecito desgraciado el es el fuckboi de la relacion por fuck y se va

no se cuantas veces le dijo que andaba de calienta braguetas, que solo era eso su ligue de un rato na mas para metersela hasta la consciencia y asi como hentai soft hard bien ntr con el bratt todo madreado en alemania ero les valia madres porque seguian cogiendo sin mañana este par de pendejos, que segun solo seria hasta que bratt volviera, hasta los cacharon haciendo el mete saca en un carro en una ciudad asi equis y los multaron y ella andaba de harapienta porque este wey no se controla y rompe todo, ropa calzones,

una vez ella andaba hasta las chanclas y se fue a gritarle a su apartamento y pos ya sabran como acabaron y ahi luego delate de la sirvienta o asistente no se que era ella andaba brincoteandole la verga al morgan y fue tan cringe tan humillante ay no ya ni queria leer eso, porque pinche vato asqueroso, su unico oficio y beneficio es andar remojando el pene en pussys ajenas y ya

la que se deje agasajar, hasta andaba borrando los videos de la oficina pa que no vieran como se trajinaba a la rachel ahi mero pero los descubren porque no mames, obvio que iba a pasar y de hecho hacen como si nada luego de bratt vuelve y segun que ya hasta ahi, y el christopher la reduce a una puta que solo lo busca pa eso y ya, es todo y ella ahi de llorona de ay este vato yo se que puede cambiar el es bueno el pinche traumado en el fondo

ni madres, ese wey no merece second chances dijeron los vulturis, es horrible es un patan egolatra imbecil policia de mi pais has de cuenta, un pendejo que le diste uniforme y poder y ya cree que todos le tienen que andar lamiendo las patas luego de haber sido un puto castroso desmadroso que le tenias que andar cuidando la cola para que no se metiera en problemas

pense que roman era un ser despreciable pero no este ey merece una putiza bien hecha y derecha porque no lo aguanto

trata a rachel bien mal, a la esposa, la suegra, anda viendole la cara de cornudo a su disque mejor amigo porque le vale madres el solo quiere su pinche satisfaccion y si le vale madfe por quien tenga que pasar

un puñetas de primera

me emputa mucho este personaje porque pisotea todo y todos no respeta nada por sus pinches traumas, superalo cabron, porque mierda de persona al parecer siempre seras nada destrozando vidas por tu pene y ya, que eso eres y ya, un pene

en fin total que van a osku a un prostibulo donde deben detener a un mafioso italiano bien buenote que es tobias eaton y pos se obsesiona con rachel y no lo pueden atrapar y pos nada ahora se la pasa tratando de secuestrarla

y ya bratt regresa sus encuentro extramaritales paran y le hacen una fiestecita de cumpleaños y pos puros problemas porque llega el morro problematico hasta el culo de ebrio a ponerse impertinente y pos se va con rachel a discutir que acaba en sexo sangre mariguaniza y pelos y ya ahi con el bratt y los demas en la fiesta, con la esposa y la familia tambien, que pedo con esta gente

y ahi sin saber, luego de que regresara de la deschongada bratt le pide matrimonio y como pendeja acepta y pos nada, la mama de bratt y sabrina reclaman se hace un borlote y luego resulta que les avisan a todos que se tienen que ir porque estan atacando los terroristas y ahi van como borregos.

total todo sale mal, se muere un vato todos lloran blablabla, y haciendo mas corto este desmadre, rachel rompe el compromiso sin explicacion y se va, y bratt empieza a sospechar que hay alguien mas y pos su sargento anda ahi de que pos seguramente trae a otro y te andan haciendo wey, y le pide que la vigile y pos nada, hasta solito el bratt se da cuenta por ver la multa de exhibicionistas que les habian puesto antes y los descubre y pos se arma la gorda

va a su departamento donde entra con el arma asi bien FBI pendejo tenemos tu casa rodeada, y pos ahi estan bien encamados y encuerados y pos nada, se da cuenta que su beffi es bien puta y ya que se andaba echando a su morra, que la tenia bien cuidada mientras el estaba haya criando margaritas en una cueva de infiltrado y pos nada, arman una escena de QUE HACES BESANDO A LA LISIADA!!!!

te voy a dar una paliza que nunca vas a olvidar

te dije que no se te ocurriera poner los ojos en mi rachelcita y los pusiste maldito lisiado

y que se arman los putazos

y ya

hasta cachetean a rachel por zorra, que no se que esperabas morra yo tambein te hubiera dado una guajolotera porque es minimo lo que mereces, neta caes gorda, te lo dieron todo y tu te desviaste por una verga peluda y casada con tu cuñada, mija, valorate, no mames ¿que esperabas? ¿aplausos?

a mamar a otro lado

de las reñas te hubiera sacado porque que asquerosa eres pinche vieja mosca muerta

equis ya que me alebresto

bien total queda asi, todo el chism se sabe y christopher se coje a unas cuantas en sus narices y ya, le dice que solo es por un rato y que le vale madres lo de bratt que el es frio y como aimp3 mary no siente mary no llora

que aver como le hace pero el no cambia y pos que ya sabia que pa que se hace

y llora y se va

total rachel es secuestrada por los mascherano que es el tobias eaton obsesionado que la quiere de esposa y reina de la mafia porque el ya es al parecer el rey de los mafiosos de algun modo y ya, pos no se acpeta se resiste y el vato creo una droga que es bien potente

pruebala rachel, es HACOC (sonidos de guitarra potentes)

y la rachel

la hacen una adicta porque no coopera, la maltratan la escupen es peor que basura matan a una morra que andaba ahi ayudandola, acuchillan a rachel y todoa moribunda va a la boda con el mafioso porque se iban a casar y pos casi se muere, hacen un operativo y la rescatan pero pos es adicta y no puede andar asi, bratt trata de convencerla que huyan juntos y ella se niega y le muestra pruebas de el christhoper se andaba cogiendo a otra morra hace unas hora sy pos nada, llega este pendejo como vato golpeador de paredes, el fifas les dicen, y pos nada rachel le dice que lo ama pero que no puede estar con el porque le rompio el corazoncito tres veces y pos no ya no mas, en el juicio que le hacen todos se enteran de la cornamenta de bratt todos ven como andaban del tingo al tango

y todos oh my god, se dan cuenta de lo zorril y falsa que es y asi pos ya, pa que no la maten ni nada deciden que debe estar bajo el cuidado del morgan pero guacatelas con el y pos dice que se quiere ir al exilio y ya, la mandan hasta la chingada pa que no sepan que es ella y finge su muerte y ya, la hermana de bratt termina loca, nadie recibe su castigo y todos pa su casa

ahi quedo que todos por su lado y nada mas

en resumidas cuentas eso es el libro, engañar coger llorar las balas pakam pakam pakam y el corazon tukum tukum tukum

y ya

osea esta chido mucho sexo y todo y despues de un rato ya te harta pero equis, esta biene scrito al menos me entretuvo pero hijo de su pinche madre, deberas no aguanto a ese ser tan nefasto que es christopher morgan neta, me da asco, como no le pueden parar el tren y lo alaban y le besan las patas (y la riata) por ser guapo y la chingada y ay no

no vales la pena, es un asco de morro, me emputa que se la pasen todo sin consecuencias, lo detesto me caga, todo lo malo ojala le pase ya si lo matan espero que le metan un misil en la cola no se

lo que sea

me caga y no hay peor que el pero todavia le tengo que soportar por dos libros mas y todos lo trataran de heroe salvara el dia se quedara con la morra buenota y felices y contentos porque no espero mas y no espero que me sorprenda porque he estado ahi antes, se como acabara esto seria un milagro si le dan un giro a este desmadre

y todavia las morras de face que defiende a esta caca humana y ficticia ok, todo bien en casa seguramente ahh y agregando algo que se me paso, el vato nunca uso condon con ella pero tenia un cajon lleno y ella le reclama que porque no se cuida el pendejo y el le dice que como ya la probo asi su pito no lo soportaria y pos se la mete asi en seco a probar su punto y la rachel toda meca acepta pero ok todo bien en su pinche cabecita militar

ya ahora si me voy a la chingada porque que asco de vato, ya me ire a dormir solo queria decir esto

byebye

#reseñanoreseña #christopher morgan #rachel james #lascivia #lujuria #deseo #libros #wattpad #evamuñozbenitez #quepedoconestemen #lol

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rolmaniacos · 3 years

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A ver si así cierran la boca y aprenden a diferenciar una cosa de la otra.// Mejor aprende a entender un msj antes de soltar tremenda cagada, pues se dijo que los mangas y animesH son los que inspiran esas situaciones, y no me digas que no, porque los dibujitos están sexualidados para verse menores, es encontrar el vacío legal, donde se ve menor y se comporta como menor aunque sea mayor de edad y eso pasa bastante en los foros de pb ficticio, asquea tanto como el pb real.

----

Le pongo el ask entero para reírme a gusto.

1. No generalices, que si vas a hablar de anime y manga inspirado en X situaciones, habla también de películas con gente de carne y hueso, que esas también son inspiración.

2. Los dibujitos no están sexualizados para verse menores, en ningún momento se hace eso. Un dibujito no se hace para verse 100% real, ¿tú eres de las que dice que el físico de un personaje llamado Uzaki no tiene nada que ver con anatomía creíble y que está hiper sexualizado? Si un dibujito está sexualizado para verse menor, entonces puedes quemar también a las chicas que lucen menores, se comportan como menores pero tienen más años que la madre del vecino.

3. No pasa tampoco en los foros de PB ficticio, y si ocurre pues es muy rara la ocasión, hecho solamente por usuarias que quieren atención constante de la gente pero no hacen más que dar cringe.

4. Concéntrate en tus roles y lo que te gusta a ti. No leas algo que no te gusta, que comentando en tumblr no harás que la gente deje de rolear lo que le salga del culo.

Esos "dibujitos" solo causan problemas. Ta potente. B⊕REDOM.

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unholyhelbiglinked · 6 years

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Forbidden In Oz | Prologue

CHECK OUT THE REST OF THE STORY HERE

Her touch was strong against the man's chest- forearm strung across the broad object as his toxic breath filled her lungs. After all these years that same mix of alcohol and soiled beef was enough to make her stomach churn. It did flips and threatened to ruin her own composure, but she still held calm. Held everything steady.

The blade was close enough to his sweat brined skin that it could cut slight follicles of hair. And this man, this man needed a shave. He needed a wash too, but that wasn’t Beca’s job to decide. Her job was to toy with the character- to keep the pointed edge so close that it could slice through skin- but not close enough to kill him.

“Get the hell off me,” He hissed through clenched yellow teeth. His put all of his weight on his chest- trying to push forward. The small brunette gave him no lead way, slamming his spine back against the stone clad wall.

Beca cocked her head to the side, a bit of mousy hair falling into her midnight stare. It showed no mercy- not in her immediate gaze, or the deeper one that followed close behind. She didn’t say a word, adjusting her position so it was tighter against him. It wasn’t her job to speak- not at this moment, or the ones before this.

“She really can’t fight her own battles?” the man tried, barking out a crackling laugh. It made the young hunter cringe. “She sends some orphan lacky to do all of her dirty work.”

Orphan.

That was such a crude word, but not an unfit one. Beca East Mitchell had no mother to comb through her hair or a father that would instruct her on how to draw a double-edged sword. Instead, she had Elphaba. The beautiful woman who appeared by her malnourished side one day when she was just the mere age of eight.

Many people would have deemed the young girl as feral at this point- both of her parents never having much stock in her life. The human had raised herself at the base of Mitchell Cavern until the woman who had housed her stumbled upon the lost child.

“I am no orphan.” She snarled.

“Ah, so she does speak.” He flashed his inky grin once more. “Who taught you that?”

“You seem to forget who holds the blade in this situation Mr. Bolger.” Beca proclaimed dryly. This seemed to shut him up- he swallowed thickly enough to push his throat deeper into the pain, making him wince against her touch.

She stared him down for a few more seconds, eyes tracing the tired lines of his features. He looked worn down, a drunk at best. She wasn’t too sure what he had done to cross her superior, but she was never one to ask questions.

Beca did the job and got paid for it. Not everyone could do what she was capable of, and it made the girl worth something. Worth enough to afford to live just outside of Oz. A commission of sorts.

In one swift movement, she drew back the hand with the silver edged knife- her actions were fluid and precise (Just like they always were). Beca dug the tip of silver into the bark right beside the man’s head- above his shoulder as to only clip his clothing and hold the yellowed paper in its place- the same paper that was written in green glowing ink so potent that it could be considered luminescent.

The man flinched, depriving the world of his slate grey eyes as he raised his shoulders- waiting for an impact that would never come. The knife so wedged into the bark that it would take real effort to pry it from the tree’s clutches.

“You’ve been summoned.” She took a step back, taking her full weight off the man she knew wouldn’t follow her. “You don’t deny a witch her rights.”

Even he couldn’t argue that his mouth agape as his fingers curled around the blade. It almost made Beca ache to think she would leave it behind with a flimsy piece of paper. At the end of the day, the ink was more expensive than the weapon. She could get a new one, but that parchment had bound Mr. Bolger to his commitments.

“And if I don’t?” His words broke a far cry from his attempt to stay calm.

“Well,” She cracked a dark smile “Then next time, I won’t miss.”

Beca Mitchell didn’t ever stay long after she spoke to her mark. It complicated things- it was never for dramatic effect, or for her own pleasure. She had learned early in life not to question anything and do as she was told. To follow the rules in an emerald city that shone sharply. Hidden dangers were around every corner, and it was easier for her to depart from the area after a confrontation. It was always easier.

She shoved her hands in her pockets, eyes always glancing around this part of the forest. It was dark- the yellowed road having overgrown with Boston ivy cascading across deep golden brick. There were cracks- it wasn’t pretty like it had been months ago, months before the accident and the pain that ripped through Oz like an ax against tension.

Her eyes wandered against the large oak trees that were almost completely swallowed by the hollow edges of shadows. Each time a warm breeze swept through its clutches the bare limbs would grind together like dry bones- creaking and shifting under the breezes influences. Grains of poison oak wicked it’s way into the edges of the path- those who were smart never walked along it.

They would stick to the brushes- because at least they knew that the trees were just trees, and plants had no ill intentions. Those who walked close to the shone path had a death wish, strolling into their own demise. Even Beca would keep a firm grip on her sword when she got to a certain part in the dark land.

Her breath was shallow as she kept her attention elsewhere. It became very apparent to her that she was one of the reason’s no one strode through the forest. Not in this part of the land. Only those with nothing better to do than gamble at Rossen’s or try their luck against the Eastern royalty. As she walked, she thought.

“If you wish to follow me, you’ll have to be a bit quieter.” She stated fairly, loud enough to deplete the dark feeling in her stomach. Her combat boots slowed to a stop, no longer playing fair with the silence of the land. “It’s quite hard to think when you’re that loud.”

“I hadn’t said a word.” The female's voice was light and airy. Beca had been told that just the sound of her words was enough to quell up a feeling of lost love, a warmth having regretfully filled the hunter herself. She swallowed thickly, clenching her eyes shut before she turned her back to the direction that she was working towards.

Glinda North Beale was a gorgeous woman; one so strong and sure of her stance that she would dare enter her sisters land without anything other than a pistol belted to her hip. A black cloak was covering most of her broad shoulders- peaks of coppery locks falling from the hooded fabric that covered her. Her eyes shown almost as bright as the sky that hovered over her sector. “You’re very perceptive, Beca.”

“That’s what they tell me.” She shot back, eyes raking over the woman. She had never seen her in person- only pictures, and from word of mouth. Elphaba was quite biased towards her older sibling, painting a terrible picture in her beta’s mind. “I suggest you tell me the reason you’re tailing me before they get word of your presence.”

“A woman who gets to the point,” Glinda said through the silence, taking a few steps towards the younger girl. “I like that.”

Beca just lifted her chin, her thumb tracing little circles on the edge of her iron sword. The witch could tell she was on edge- it wasn’t like the blade she had wasted back there- this one was hard at hiding discontent.

“El spoke to you the other month,” She said while she held Beca's focus. “About driving a blade through my daughter’s heart as some act of ramped revenge.”

Beca simply nodded, not too fond of the conversation. She carried the same disposition when Elphaba had approached her with the pension for revenge that day in the corridor. She wouldn’t hear any of it- it wasn’t a normal job, it wasn’t something she could prophet from, or felt comfortable doing. She didn’t question how the redhead knew of this, witches had their ways.

“You turned her down.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement the woman beginning to circle Beca like prey. She kept a steady blue stare on her. “Why?”

“It’s not my place.” The younger woman grumbled, making a move to continue on her way “Nor is the conversation, so if you’ll excuse me-“

She stiffened as a cold hand wrapped around her upper arm, it made her freeze, the gentle aspect of the contact was enough to make her stomach churn. She could feel the heartache and intention in Glinda’s attempts. “I had to protect my daughter, you understand?”

Her pleading eyes were boring into Beca’s, watery and strong. Beca parted her lips slightly. “What did you do?” It was barely a whisper.

“I sent her away.” She pulled back, strong in her stature as she stared down the woman in front of her; confusion thick on her expression. “To a world where your mentor cannot harm her unless she ventures there herself.”

“Kansas?” Beca said, not having heard that word in a long time.

“Like Kansas, yes.” Glinda nodded sullenly. “She should be safe there, but I do not trust that she can do it alone. Face that world with those people.”

Beca lifted her chin slightly at the words, she had a dark feeling that she knew where this was going. In any other situation, Glinda would have drawn that pistol and placed a thick inch of lead between her eyebrows by now in a swift act of revenge. Revenge for even thinking of harming her child.

“You want me to go after her?” She said in a bit of a laugh “My place is here.”

“And what place is that exactly?” Glinda stood up straight, the hood falling back to reveal more of her deep locks, they framed her face, made her look innocent and exhausted. “You know what they call you, Beca?”

She swallowed, not answering. They called her a lot of things, none of which she had heard past the mouths of those cursing her name.

“captivum ad orientalem, Beca. The prisoner of the East.” Her words were dark and cut like the very sword that hung at her side. It made the shorter of the two grimace. She had never thought of herself a prisoner or a captive. She was just repaying the woman who had rescued her from a life that would end in her demise. She had grown unfair over the years, unruly and power hungry.

“If you do this for me- “Glinda was practically begging now, barely able to stay up on her own two feet as water collected at her edge, Beca wasn’t heartless, she supported the woman letting her dig her nails into her forearm and claw as at the pitch button-down that she wore. “I can promise you that you will not return to her wrath. You will not return to a life such as this.”

She drew in a careful breath, cocking an eyebrow at the strange woman. Part of her wondered if this was a test, a way to show her loyalty to the one who had rescued her. She was never good at tests and even worse at receiving the punishments. The sincerity of the sobbing woman in front of her caught her off guard.

Glinda was pulling her down to her knees, collapsing in a pile of silken fabric as she held Beca’ close, the hunter squatting as the ignored the pain that wracked through her abdomen at the belt pushing into tender flesh.

“She won’t face it alone.” Her dark eyes raising to meet Beca’s “I can’t let her.”

With as light inhale Beca flashed her gaze to the direction she was headed. Back to a lonely old house with one candle that provided a warm and familiar glow. It was familiar. All of it- a routine that her body had grown used to her mind numb. She had no idea who she was working for anymore, no idea who she pledged her sanity to.

“I’ll do it.” She whispered, not purely confident in her words.

“You will?” Glinda sounded so broken, so sad. Beca nodded simply, biting back the sour taste in her mouth as the crying woman flashed a bit of concern against her features. “I’m so glad you see things my way because this might hurt a bit.”

“I’m sorry?” Beca pulled back, knitting her eyebrows together, she still clung tightly to the hunter, not saying a word as she pulled the woman’s forearm towards her, facing soft skin towards a non-existent sun.

“You must forgive me,” Glinda spoke with precision, voice shaking slightly as she hovered a perfectly manicured hand over Beca’s arm. “But once you get to their world you won’t remember who you are. But you will.”

She didn’t say a word as thick bite moves through her skin, worse than the clutches of fire- so cold it almost burned. Beca flinched- her bodies natural reaction to sharp pain and suffering. She gasped, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth despite nothing being shed. The young girl had to swallow a groan of agony as tears flooded Glinda’s vision once more.

“What the hell are you-Fuck!” She shouted crumbling to the ground herself as she dug her free hand into the bricked surface, letting paint catch under her nails. Her vision was blurry and spotted as she tried to blink back the sting.

“I’m sorry young one,” She heard Glinda whisper soothingly, “You’ll understand soon enough.”

[A/N: Wow, so intense, so much work went into this so please give it some love.]

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #bechloe fic rec #Bechloe #Fanfiction #wizard of oz

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iliansworld · 4 years

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Potente el cringe en tus fotos... 🤢🤮

Pero bien que andas al pendiente. 🥴🥴🥴

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wherearetheavocdos · 5 years

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Yeh, yuh, duh.

Sensaciones vacías que no quisiera que ocurrieran, ya que sin ellas esto no estaría escrito, al escribir esto es que no está bien, escribo esto para mí, y me gusta que no lo lea nadie.

17 años solamente pero con un poco de experiencia, ya pasó la etapa “emo” (por cierto los reblogs [creo que se le dice así a estas cosas] y toda esa mierda me da potente cringe pero me da pereza eliminarla) ahora se siente diferente, un vacío bastante real que realmente si afecta, el haber aprendido a mostrar lo mejor de mí persona por que siento una carga si alguien conoce mi verdadero estado no está funcionando, jamás he sido de contar como me siento, siempre es guardado para mí y escrito en algún lado. Me encanta pensar, pero los pensamientos actuales me generan una negatividad, me siento mal, una sensación que jamás había conocido, no sé que me pasa pero quiero que pare, es incómodo.

Salgo normal con mis amigos, trato de reír pero no siento la felicidad, siento que hay un problema o que tengo un problema pero es desconocido para mi mente y para mi cuerpo, crea una fatiga, un malestar, una presión en mi cabeza que me envenena la mente, pensaba que era la escuela pero no tengo nada malo en eso, pensaba que era una chica pero ya traté ese tema, mi entorno social es el mismo. Tal vez sea yo, una necesidad de un cambio, es algo que siempre hago, cambios en mi vida, pero puede que sea lo contrario, quizá sea que encontré una forma estable donde estoy cómodo, quiero pensar que este problema es mi necesidad de cambio, quiero cambiar pero estoy feliz como estoy ahora, no tiene sentido pero vaya, es raro.

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yesbothways · 7 years

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I want Kara to have everything

First off, if you don’t think of Supergirl/ Kara Danvers / Kara Zor-El as a new and still budding feminist icon, then nothing I have to say will make any sense to you. We’re living in two different worlds and watching two different shows, and this post is not for you. This story arc with Mon-El will have to run its course before I get a full sense of my read on the cultural politics of this. At this point, however, I am not only cringing, I am drastically flinching. And here is why:

Perhaps my least favorite trope within heteronormative mythology is the inevitability of women’s eventual consent to men’s desires. This is shown in MOST stories. In these stories, it’s not that women’s consent doesn’t matter. It’s just that it’s only a matter of time before women’s consent matches up with the desires of men who are interested in them, no matter what might happen in the interim.

I can almost like it when shows pull a gendered reversal of this insanely rampant trope, like with Felicity and Oliver or Korra and Mako, even though it’s not really all that subversive to simply reverse this particular trope in the end. That’s what we got, more or less, in season one with Kara and her love interest that season, James Olsen. Kara’s desire for James was there from the moment he arrived on the scene. We kind of knew that he would be into her and that they would end up together, because Kara is the hero. A hero’s status is a man’s status. To uphold that, the story has to show that reality becomes shaped to what they want.

Related to this, my generally exacting feminist critique uncharacteristically flags in my response to stories where women just really want something (almost always a man) that’s not really all that worth wanting, and then those women get what they want. I showed a feminist friend Jane Eyre recently. He was outraged and said, “Jane should take her twenty thousand pounds and move to a lesbian separatist community! Rochester is terrible! He only looks good compared to St. John!” And I was like, “Jane wants Rochester. There is nothing I can do to change that. She heard his freaking voice across the moors, man. What can anyone do?” Even when I wish that a story would depict a genuinely desirable masculinity as what the lady lead indeed finds desirable (for example, James Olsen), I can go along with whatever she wants.

Because I simply like to see my lady leads get what they want in stories, shape their realities. I like it even when I don’t think that’s genuinely desirable or that something comparable would work out well in real life. In fact, it’s pretty similar to being a feminist in real life. Lots of feminist women end up wanting relationships with men who are not feminists. Lots of men end up becoming feminists, because they first become involved with feminist women. This is not what we’ve seen happen in this case.

Instead, we have watched Mon-El’s attraction to Kara hold the power to shape this narrative – not the other way around. We’ve heard Kara express her lack of consent far more strongly than her consent. We’ve seen her as angry with him as she has been with anyone. We’ve heard people including Kara talk passionately about why they should not be together. Everything in this narrative including this woman is fighting the stunningly potent power of this character’s desire to shape outcomes and make this romance happen… apparently all only for the “satisfaction” of seeing the inevitable reciprocity win out in the end.

We have Alex saying to Kara out of the blue, you like him. And even in that conversation, Kara looked distressed. There was no sign of longing, only signs of stress. Then we got probably the most ooc moment in the show, when Kara was pleased to have been valued over another woman, and, of course, we got Kara’s jealousy, the heteronormative hallmark of Love ™. Suddenly, Kara wants Mon-El. So what was happening before? Aha! She explains. She was having Issues ™. Believe me, I love issues. Xena is my favorite superhero for crying out loud. But Kara’s issues were these unfamiliar, previously unseen, cliché lady issues – lady issues as defined by men in patriachy – fear of being vulnerable, fear of not being in control, being too critical, expecting too much from men, expecting too much compatibility, not being willing to give men a chance.

That happened overnight in this show. Kara struggled with her love life before this, but now it’s no longer her insecurity (it’s almost painful to like James), her dedication to putting others first (Lucy and James come first), her idea of being a misfit with a normal life (James and Adam both), her need to navigate multiple identities with high stakes involved (James and Adam both again). Nope. Kara has been remapped. And she has been pathologized in highly gendered and demeaning ways for her lack of interest in this man who wants her. Kara’s lack of consent and opinions about Mon-El were to be taken by viewers as a shallow, mistaken rough draft until she got the right answer and gave him the tender, soft sex eyes and wore that tender, soft sex shirt, so they could fall together and make out on her couch.

Look, I wanted to see Kara make those eyes and wear that shirt. Believe me, I still do. I want my feminist icon to have a beautiful sexuality, which she does, and beautiful experiences of sex, which feels doubtful currently. I want Kara to have everything she wants. But I don’t want her history to be erased or her consent and inner world to be remapped to fit some stereotypical and highly gendered sexist heteronormative trope. Maybe her relationship with Mon-El will magically work out: He will evolve a sense of self and be worth wanting. Maybe he will go off into space soon, and we will all move on with Kara. Maybe he will turn into a villain, and that will be the literal worst. But if this is the new MO in Supergirl, then what the hell even is this show now? Not what it was before.

Some folks will think that Kara and Mon-El being a drastic mismatch and Kara fighting against her own “reason” means that she has an even stronger passionate desire for him. That’s not what consent is to me, but maybe Kara is like Anne in Parks and Rec, and she needs Donna as her wing-woman to give her sound, postmodern advice: “Use him. Abuse him. And lose him.” That’s a form of equality, right? Oh, no, wait… if Kara does what Mon-El does, then she loses all credibility as a good person and a hero. Double standards, amiright?

#supergirl

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