#exit patriarchy

[magdalene-spirit]

Meeting the Madwoman: An Inner Challenge for Feminine Spirit by Linda Schierse

It is we who have severed ourselves from the old ways of the great Mother & the natural agrarian & egalitarian order of Naure.

That is to live with Nature, in a felt participation & sense of belonging within the great circle / circuit of flow, where energy circulates & so there is enough for the needs of everyone in the community.

A way of living that is not in opposition to Nature but in deep magical sympathy with the natural laws / laws of Nature (the essences, the Shakti's, the Matrika's, the principles, the Gods/Goddesses, the forces, the planetary intelligences etc.).

In whichever way we personify the high laws, there can only be harmony when we are deeply tuned in, to hear & see, with deepest intuition how to balance ourselves & our culture within the greater ecosystem in which we are embedded- not separate from.

When we are in a state of listening & reverence, we remember how to go about life so that we are provided for.

When wealth accumulation starts we withhold energy from the great flow which then disturbs a delicate balance & elsewhere things start to collapse.

The paradox we are in is that we can almost no longer return to the natural order, & when we have sufficiently cut ourselves off from it we are also destined to die off along with it.

Cut off from the great flow a system becomes artificial, a machine & must be sustained by siphoning & directing energy from elsewhere where it flows naturally, towards it- patriarchy & late capitalism is a beast, a wealth-making machine, that is destined to collapse, like any parasite must die, when the host can't give anymore.

But Nature is perpetually regenerative, seasonal & self-sustaining & once the parasite is expelled, She will grow & birth & flourish.

As much as we wish, no-one can entirely leave patriarchy for the forest, & we fear that if we just walk away we will be homeless on the streets.

Now, this very fear is our inner work, our meditation, our complicity, our inertia, our stuckness— how to find a way of living, within the modern landscape, that is true for us-& to free ourselves from materialism.

[thearchivaljinglebeast]

Help! Mayday! Ascension Sunday!

[iceyrukia]

A lot of women who think they are feminists aren’t really ones in a meaningful or wholistic way and they are very selective in what they want to change. I think women as a whole want men to stop raping and sexually assaulting women in the most explicit form, (meaning: many are blind to rape culture which are building blocks of male ideology that you need to closely analyze and they simply are not willing to do whatever it takes to truly dismantle it *coughs* women’s objectification *coughs* but they don’t want to actually get rid of some gender norms like for example being pretty objects of men’s desires (even if they deny it despite performing it) that men peruse and take initiative in courting them. I think many women subconsciously know that they have to perform femininity in terms of beauty first and foremost as being a requirement to deserving men’s attention. Many women have a hard time shaking off that inner voyeour and will try to rationalize it with empowerment talk when they tell of themselves when they say they feel confident when they look a certain way (uphold an artificial image). I wonder how many of these women “doing it for themselves” would even pass a simple test where they would show up to a date or make an appearance in front of some men they fancy with hairy legs,armpits etc. (without self-flagellating to said men or laughing it off as some temporary trend)??? Because I think many women would die on the inside than let men they are sexually interested in view them as gross.

[the-most-humble-blog]

Taint Misbehavin’: The Gender-Neutral Tragedy of the Human Gooch

Also known as: “Yes, Women Have Taints Too, Karen”

Let’s not dance around it.

Let’s not whisper like this is health class with a priest in the back row.

Let’s walk straight into the fleshy Bermuda Triangle and ask:

“Is the word ‘taint’ gender-specific?”

And by the end of this hellride, you’ll be spiritually aligned, anatomically educated, and emotionally compromised.

☠️ What Even Is a Taint?

Let’s get it out of the way:

Medical term: perineum

Street name: taint

Alias: gooch, grundle, the devil’s slip-n-slide, sin canal, the no-fly zone, the forbidden footpath

It’s the stretch of skin between your hoo-ha and your oh-no.

Between the exit wound and the splash zone.

Between your business and your past due notices.

In medical terms:

“The perineum is the area between the anus and the genitals.” In real terms: “The taint taint your genitals, and it taint your butthole.” Hence: taint.

It’s an anatomical gray area. A biological liminal space. A no-man’s-land paved in skin, sweat, and shame.

🧠 The Real Question:

“Do women have one?”

Yes.

Yes, they do.

Unequivocally. Universally. Unapologetically.

That smooth criminal between the peach and the portal?

That’s a taint.

Whether you’re packing meat or melons,

bulge or buffet,

beef curtain or bologna pony —

you got a taint.

🧬 But Isn’t “Taint” a Guy Thing?

Let’s be fair.

The term taint got famous via male-coded locker room vernacular.

It traveled in sweaty gym bags next to Axe body spray and bad decisions.

It’s been used in:

Xbox Live lobbies

Middle school roast battles

Joe Rogan monologues

Divorce court

Why?

Because it’s hilarious.

Say it out loud:

TAINT.

It hits like a cartoon punch.

It sounds dirty, but vague.

You can say it on TV but not in church.

But just because the culture gave the word to men…

Doesn’t mean the anatomy is exclusive.

🚺 Let’s Talk Female Taint

You know what else taint the butthole or the vag?

That smooth little fleshy runway between the two.

That’s right.

That’s the taint.

Scientifically? Still called the perineum.

But culturally?

We never branded it.

Never gave it a nickname.

Never gave it the comedic reverence it deserves.

So what happened?

Society failed the female taint.

📉 Cultural Bias: We Named Everything BUT the Taint

Let’s review:

Boobs: check

Butt: covered

Clit: overanalyzed

Labia: poetic if you're a feminist or an art student

Taint: absolute radio silence

It’s the only part of the female anatomy that hasn’t been objectified, hypersexualized, or used in a Billie Eilish metaphor.

And that’s the tragedy.

We gave the taint to men and let women walk around with an unclaimed flesh strip of mystery.

Not anymore.

💀 Taint Equality = True Equality

The taint is the only body part that:

Isn’t gendered

Isn’t politicized (yet)

Isn’t Instagrammable

Isn’t sacred

Isn’t slutty

Isn’t shamed

Isn’t holy

It’s just… there.

Raw. Unfiltered. Indifferent.

And that’s why it’s beautiful.

It taint one thing. It taint another.

It’s both. It’s neither. It’s us.

📚 Linguistic Warfare: Other Terms for the Taint (Unisex Edition)

Gooch

Grundle

Fleshbridge

Forbidden Fajita

The No-No Tundra

The UnderCooch

Devil’s Hallway

Sin Sled

Emotionless Alley

The Oathbreaker’s Strip

Let’s take back the language. Let’s name the female undercarriage.

Let’s democratize the grundle.

🧼 Taint Maintenance: Because Gender Don’t Matter When You Sweat

Male or female — taint funk is real.

That’s where:

Gym shorts go to die

Sweat turns into regret

Body wash loses its nerve

You don’t need a gender-specific care routine.

You need a loofah, some humility, and the knowledge that if your taint smells like old garlic knots, you’re the problem.

🥇 The Taint Test (For Equality Warriors)

Ask any feminist, activist, or gender studies professor:

❓ “Do women have a taint?” ❓ “Can we say gooch in a female context?” ❓ “If ‘taint’ only applies to men, are we guilty of linguistic patriarchy?” ❓ “Can you reclaim your power if you haven’t acknowledged the zone between zones?”

Watch the hesitation.

Because when it comes to taint talk, everyone’s a coward.

Not you.

You’re still reading.

You’re brave.

You believe in gooch equity.

🤯 TL;DR

“Taint” = slang for perineum, the strip of skin between genitals and butthole.

Scientifically accurate for both men and women.

Culturally, it’s been branded as male — but that’s a lie.

The female taint is real. Untouched. Sacred. Neglected. Powerful.

It’s time to stop acting like the perineum is a gendered mystery.

It taint male. It taint female. It’s humanity’s final frontier.

💣 CALL TO ACTION (You Know What Time It Is)

🔁 Reblog this before someone says “cisnormative taint privilege” unironically

🍑 Share if your gooch deserves more respect than your last situationship

🧽 Screenshot and send to someone who definitely forgot to wash theirs today

🫧 Repost this if you believe in full-body equality — from nipples to Netherrealm

⚖️ LEGAL DISCLAIMER (BECAUSE TUMBLR SOFTIES LOVE TO SNIFF DRAMA):

This post is satire, commentary, anatomy education, performance art, literary disobedience, and a goddamn act of bravery.

It is protected under U.S. law, natural law, and the sacred covenant of locker room humor.

If this offends you, congrats — your gooch is probably neglected.

This post does not discriminate. It exfoliates.

Take a seat. Open a book. Scrub your taint.

We out here equalizing the perineum discourse with no apologies.

[liberalsarecool]

Age is not an issue for corporate media in the bag with patriarchy and white supremacy.

Just like the caravans that disappear the day after an election, expect the press to show zero interest in Trump's mental decline and age after Biden's exit.

[thepeacepigeon]

The 4B Movement: How South Korean women are leaving the patriarchy behind 

(Getty Images)

In 2016, a 34-year-old man named Kim Sung-min waited inside a unisex restroom outside exit 10 of Gangnam Station, Seoul South Korea. Six different men came and exited through the restroom over the span of an hour, until a 23-year-old woman entered, and Kim proceeded to stab and kill her with a 12-inch-long sushi knife. In court, Kim stated, “I did it because women have always ignored me.” Kim’s actions and thoughts are not out of the ordinary amongst Korean men—violence against women is extremely common in South Korea. 

(BBC)

South Korea has a long record of female subjugation. Between 1953 and 2021, abortion was illegal in almost all circumstances, and current law allows a woman to get an abortion only if she has consent from a male relative or her boyfriend/husband/partner. A 2015 South Korean government survey revealed that almost 80% of women had been sexually harassed at work. A survey released by The Ministry of Gender Equality and Family found that 57.8 percent of women felt vulnerable to misogynistic violence. Digital crime and sexual harassment are extremely common— “molka”, up-skirt photos, and secret cameras hidden in restrooms are rampant, so much so that any cellphone purchased in South Korea has a mandatory chime when photos are taken. The World Economic Forum’s 2022 Global Gender Gap Index ranks South Korea at number 99 out of 146 countries for gender equality. Legislation actively works against women trying to report sexual assault. Men accused of stalking or harassment can “ask” their victims to drop charges, and in 2022 a man murdered his former colleague after she refused to drop charges against him for stalking her since 2019. South Korea has the highest gender pay gap of all the OECD countries—the top wealthiest 37 countries, globally, with women earning on average a third less than men. These alarming statistics have come years after the “Gangnam Station” murder, and South Korean women continue to be targeted for their gender.

(Jung Yeon-Je/AFP via Getty Images)

Despite Kim’s own testimony, government authorities explicitly denied the misogynistic motive, and the prosecution announced that the case was not being investigated as a hate crime. Kim was eventually sentenced to 30 years in prison. In response to the murder, women took to the streets outside Gangnam station and the surrounding areas in protest. The women, many of whom had never considered themselves feminists or activists, but the nature of the crime and the misogynistic motivation, as well as the court's refusal to acknowledge it, outranged them. The murder incited intense debates about misogyny within the country, and the gender inequities women faced both socially and economically. Five months after the murder, Cho Nam-Joo’s novel Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 was published. The book devastatingly details an everyday woman’s daily experiences of nonstop sexism, inequality, and misogyny in contemporary South Korea, and served as another enraging eye-opener that would develop into what would become known as the 4B Movement. 

The four B’s (or “Four No’s”) of the movement represent the four major components that women of the movement are rejecting; Bisekseu (sex), Bichulsan (child-bearing), Biyeonae, (dating) and Bihon (marriage). South Korean feminists define the 4B movement not as a fight against the patriarchy, but a complete step away from it— leaving it behind. In 2017, the Escape the Corset campaign swept across the country. The word “corset” is used by Korean feminists as a metaphor for the societal mechanisms that control and repress women, for example, the extreme and toxic beauty standards. Both 4B and Escape the Corset condemn and reject the influence that beauty holds within every aspect of South Korean life. Pioneers such as feminist author Cho Nam-Joo, and photographer Jeon Bo-ra, who photographed women who shaved their heads in rebellion. Social media has played a large role in the 4B movement, with bloggers and beauty influencers like Lina Bae speaking up against unattainable beauty standards and societal pressures, and Summer Lee who was inspired to cut her hair, throw away her hyperfeminine clothes, and post pictures of herself without makeup. 

(Jean Chung/Getty Images)

Despite increasing conversation on women’s rights, feminism is still considered a taboo, contentious, or even “dirty” word for many South Koreans. It is often associated with “man-hating” and perceived as overly aggressive. The country's current president Yoon Suk-yeol has promised to close down the South Korean Ministry of Gender Equility and Family, and any other organizations that fund or support women and victims of sexual violence, claiming they “treat men like potential sex criminals”. A January 2023 article in the South Korean newspaper The Sisa Times reported that 65% of women in the country do not want children, 42% do not want to get married, and over 80% of those cite domestic violence as their key reason. As a result, concerns regarding the rising average population age and declining birth rate in South Korea have increased greatly. The country's birth rate is less than one per woman as of 2021, and the country saw less than 200,000 marriages. In recent years, the South Korean government has commissioned a number of soap operas and reality TV shows to promote an idyllic view of romantic heterosexual love, and to encourage marriage and reproduction. 

(Yonhap)

The 4B movement and Escape the Corset campaign have had a tremendous impact on the way young South Korean women view the countries cultural grip on women’s appearances and lives. Between 2015-2016 and 2017-2018, Korean women spent over 5 billion Korean Won less on beauty products and cosmetic surgeries, instead investing their money in cars and choosing independence over objectification. The movement is calling for boycotts of any business that uses sexist advertising, and encouraging women to eat at women-owned restaurants, drink in women-owned bars, and shop at women-owned stores—women’s money goes into the pockets of other women. Women’s universities have also been on the rise in South Korea, with most cities housing one or several women-only institutions. Similarly, women’s only spaces have begun to expand, women’s parking spots closer to entrances and exits in parking garages, women’s only hotel floors and common rooms, and women’s only subway cars. These spaces allow feminism to spread and flourish, and give Korean women the ability to find community with other women without the interference of men. 

(Ian Baldessari/CityLab)

Since 2016, Exit 10 of Gangnam Station has become a symbolic site for South Korean feminism. The South Korean feminist movement developed out of particularly misogynist conditions within their country. The 4B movement represents a radical way that women have sought to create an online and offline world devoid of men—rather than engaging in arguments and altercations, they simply refuse to interact with men in every aspect of their lives. These actions have had a profound impact on the functionality of South Korean society and have opened an uncloseable door too the discussion of women’s rights. 

McCurry, Justin. “Calls for Stalking Law Overhaul in South Korea as Woman’s Murder Shocks Nation.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 23 Sept. 2022, www.theguardian.com/world/2022/sep/23/calls-for-stalking-law-overhaul-in-south-korea-as-womans-shocks-nation.

Teehan, Katie. “What Is the 4B Movement?” Service95, 16 Apr. 2024, www.service95.com/4b-movement-explainer/.

Izaakson , Jen, and Tae Kyung Kim. “The South Korean Women’s Movement: ‘We Are Not Flowers, We Are a Fire.’” Feminist Current, 16 June 2020, www.feministcurrent.com/2020/06/15/the-south-korean-womens-movement-we-are-not-flowers-we-are-a-fire/.

Lee, Min Joo. “Why so Many South Korean Women Are Refusing to Date, Marry or Have Kids.” Yahoo! News, Yahoo!, 15 May 2023, news.yahoo.com/why-many-south-korean-women-123250959.html?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAHmBVorK4v6bdzwcJMRyRdXkKtzUlpQYWn5Ot-BPzs-YRNNZFW5JBwC65OTaPrRImn3F3G56r0gfNydadUzlQtPS61hOi6uggk_OkwZqqvLvS-YN4HbPrpwKvK9_7g0e9yqu9fiRRvOVJkGRv__L7AZGoYtfHVxjKLLPDi9DI2fu.

Park, Seohoi Stephanie. “Murder at Gangnam Station: A Year Later.” KOREA EXPOSÉ, 2 Mar. 2023, koreaexpose.com/murder-gangnam-station-year-later/.

Dockeray, Hannah. “Why Some South Korean Women Are Rejecting Beauty.” Sky News, 14 July 2021, news.sky.com/story/plastic-surgery-south-korea-faces-beauty-backlash-11871654.

[dykemind]

people have been talking about blackpills and i always have some following me due to my immaculate manhating i suppose... i've always felt quite fond of them since they basically exist as the polar opposite of straight women who scream and shit themselves about female separatism. but looking into it the despair and hopelessness aspect is really sad. I always thought the "pilled" part was hyperbolic but no, it really is a community that is languishing and relishing in its own despair in a frankly self-cruel way. I don't think any of them have ever experienced female separatism even though it's a foundational tenet, and that would be the difference between us. You feel a lot less despair when you can actually exit patriarchy in a meaningful way for weeks to years at a time and participate in creating the female world.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Femme Fatale

Summary: Leon is a cop that got transferred to a new city in order to investigate the spike in murder cases. However, this isn’t an ordinary murder case. It is a serial killer murdering men.

Warning: mentions of blood, violence, death. !serial!killer reader x !cop Leon. Reader is 21+ (don’t drink under the legal age). Reader is female (hence the title lol)

Word count: 4,483

A/N: HELLOOOOO I feel like it’s been a hot minute since I wrote anything. I’ve been seeing a lot of short smut stories lately and I just wanted to bring something different to the table lol!!! Another murder fanfic with no smut (sorry smut lovers, but if you want a part two, I’ll write one!)

“You’ll wish you never met her at all, you’ll wish you never met her at all,” - Maneater, Nelly Fortudo

Nobody knows the true definition of being a femme fatale. It goes beyond aesthetic, but you use that for your own advantage. Seems like society does play a useful role for your adventures.

They are adventures to you, but the police like to call them "ongoing murders," whatever that meant. So, what if you killed a guy at a bar, he was being sleazy and wouldn't take no for an answer, so you acted out in self-defense. The cops believed you because why would they go against a woman who simply defended themselves? That'd tarnish their name and reputation.

So, you got away with your first murder. Easy as pie.

The memory was still fresh in your mind. You were out, hanging at a bar as you drank your savings away. Some horrible event happened prior to the night and what better way to cheer you up than a couple of drinks.

Of course, a man ogled you from the other side of the bar. Practically undressing you and fucking you in his sick and perverted mind. He was at least twice your age, what a psycho.

He had approached you, offered to buy you a drink to which you declined. Claiming you had too much to drink and had work in the morning the next day. You thought it ended at that as you made your exit, only to have life play an incredible joke at you. It wasn't incredible to you, but maybe to the universe it was.

The man had followed you and pulled into a sketchy and dark alleyway, attempting to drug you by attacking you from behind and stuffing a drugged piece of cloth against your mouth right under your nostrils. But it didn't go great for him, he's a total idiot that seemed to have no idea what he was doing. What a damn rookie.

You jabbed your elbow into his gut from behind, the man momentarily paralyzed which allowed you to swing your bag at his face. He stumbled backwards and fell. But that wasn't enough for you, was it?

No, it was not. It never is.

What is a woman if she can't bring revenge to her own self? And so, you watched as the man fell back against the concrete floor, cursing silently that he didn't hit his head hard enough. No worries, nothing a little help couldn't do, right?

You swore you weren't a violent person but as you straddled the man and beat the shit out of him, you felt nothing but pure bliss. A smile plastered on your face like a permanent reminder to the man that women aren't as easy as he thought they were. Oh, how naive men can be.

Blood covered your knuckles, his face so fucked up and bruised that it would be nearly impossible to recognize him. Until you spotted his driver's silence on the floor and stole it. This fucker needed to disappear and what better way than to do it yourself. You needed no help, you were independent. To hell with the patriarchy!

He was a heavy man, but you managed. You strangled him with the straps of your bag, watching as his face turned purple from the lack of oxygen. His eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets as he gasped and tried to pry your hands away. Disgusting, you thought.

The second he died; you didn't move. You needed to make sure he was gone for good and when he was, you weren't stupid enough to leave him there, oh god no.

You burnt him.

His body was tossed in one of those trashcans where teenagers come and lit fires while they committed underage drinking, for once you were happy those teenagers were of help.

And that was the first time you committed murder, and certainly not your last.

-

News reported the numerous cases of dead and missing men, you cried fake tears and showed fake empathy for the families of the victims but deep down you didn't care. They were all bad in your mind, letting their sons and brothers terrorize and claim what wasn't theirs in the first place.

Yeah, you became a mysterious symbol for female murderers. Nobody knew who this sudden serial killer was, much less what gender. But it gave hope to the women of the town, the ones stuck in a toxic relationship, the ones being forced to act like a mother rather than a daughter--you gave each one hope.

Right after the murders were set, the dead men would get exposed to the media. One of your victims had illegal pictures in his hard drive and you had no regret in releasing them to the media. As far as you were concerned, they could all rot in hell.

Your killings continued to pile up, each one different than the other to throw the police off tracks and make them start their investigation all over again. Gosh not only were they lazy but also stupid.

Not until that tall and blonde new cop showed in town. He was new but he seemed like a capable cop. You should've felt scared or threatened at the new addition to the station, but you didn't. You only felt amused that they had to bring outside help all because they couldn't figure out that you were the serial killer.

-

"You shouldn't be drinking during the day," a voice rang out from behind you as you sat on the bar stool, drinking away. You turned your head over your shoulder to find the new cop standing behind you. His blue uniform hugging his muscles tightly, his blonde hair reaching just below his ears and his blue eyes staring at you intently.

"It's not heathy," he added as he walked to stand next to your sitting form, to which you raised a single brow and turned your head back forward and took a sip of your drink, "Good morning to you too, Officer."

"Kennedy," he said, extending his hand out for you to shake, "But you can call me Leon if that's more comfortable for you."

You took his hand, shaking it firmly as you noted how strong he seemed to be, "I don't think anyone feels comfortable in the presence of a cop but sure," you said as you gave him a tight lipped smile.

"Can't argue with that," he replied as he took his hand away and watched you drink. There was a silence that overtook the two of you right before he spoke, he seemed rather hesitant.

"What do you know about the murders?" he asked cautiously, eyes narrowing as he stared at you, watching for any signs of... suspicion, perhaps?

"You mean the ones about the guys being found dead in a ditch?" you asked sarcastically, a half smirk reaching your lips, "Heard too much about them lately. It's all everyone seems to be thinking about these days..."

"Well, it makes sense. This killer seems to be targeting men and then exposing them for their... disturbing habits... you don't happen to know about the town's vigilante, would you?" he asked, propping his arm on the countertop of the bar and turned to face you.

You turned your head to look at him, feigning innocence at his question, "No, officer, I haven't learned anything about the serial killer. Everyone's been busy being on their best behavior..." you glanced down at his uniform, admittedly checking him out before you looked back at his face, "And I suggest you do too, have a nice day."

The would be the last time you saw the cop for the time being. You knew he was going to be tailing you from that moment, so you had to be strategic. Maybe you'd seduce your way out of jail but at the same time, isn't a little game of cat and mouse fun?

-

It hasn't been going well for Leon. As soon as he was transferred from his previous station, he's been overworked with the investigation. Sure, he wasn't a real detective, but he was still a cop recommended by a popular chief. In his email he had stated that Leon was "perceptive" and "had an intelligence beyond human comprehension."

Leon didn't know why the chief was so insistent in getting him out of that station and to a new city, but rumor has it that it was because the chief didn't want anyone to discover the affair he was having. He knew Leon would've been the first one to figure it out.

And it worked, because now Leon was sitting in an office, trying his damnest to think about all the murders. Trying to find a common denominator between all of them.

"You look like you haven't slept in days. Reminds me of my wife when we had our first child," a police officer, by the name of Robert, entered the room with two cups of coffee. Robert was his assigned partner, the seasoned detective sent to teach him the ropes around the new station. But Leon didn't need training, he was already good at his job, and he didn't need a nanny.

He offered Leon a cup of coffee, leaning back against the edge of the desk behind him as he stared at the corkboard with evidence and pictures of the murders, strings going left and right as he linked each crime scene to another, "Yeah, well, I don't have either so I'm sure I'll be fine," Leon responded as he took the coffee and sipped it.

"You're really trying to solve this? You know we've been at a dead end for days, right? Half of these will turn cold and get stored down in the archives..." Robert muttered as he glanced at Leon, to which Leon simply nodded.

"Yep, that's exactly what I'm going to do," Leon replied, as if stating the obvious, "Isn't it suspicious how all of these murders are so... different? Too different?"

Robert could only stare at Leon with confusion, "What the hell are you--No, I don't find it suspicious. I actually think we just have multiple murderers."

"You think about 20 people in this town are murderers?" Leon retorted as he raised an eyebrow at Robert.

Robert sighed exasperatedly, "Okay, maybe not, but how are you even sure this is one person?"

"Because the perpetrator has been too careful. See this?" Leon took a picture from the corkboard, a piece of evidence from the crime scene, "None of the weapons have been found. But we know that they were used. There's a slit in this man's stomach, caused by a knife... don't you see? This serial killer purposefully takes the weapon and doesn't leave it behind because they know we can track their fingerprints and it's a game over for them."

Robert was actually a bit impressed but then he scoffed, "Leon, that seems like a stretch. What if the killer doesn't even use weapons? I mean, what if-what if-fuck. I hate when you make sense..." he muttered, which prompted Leon to smirk just a bit.

"I can feel that we are slowly getting closer to solving this. We just need to think like the killer..." Leon muttered right before the lightbulb above his head lit up, "And what better way than to act the part, huh?"

Robert looked at him confused with furrowed brows, watching as Leon took his jacket and started to make his way out, "Where are you going?"

"The only place where guys roam like fish--the club," he said before he stepped out of the room and started to walk out of the station towards his car. Robert could only sigh, wishing he was young enough to catch up to Leon's speed.

-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered as you paced around your room. Ever since that new cop came into town, it's been hard for you to continue your killings. You're almost sure he's waiting to catch you at any moment and arrest you.

It's been a couple of days since his arrival, but he's been patrolling the places you'd usually go to catch your victim, the bar, the club, hell, even the park!

He was too good at his job and it both pissed you off and stressed you out.

"Fuck!" you yelled in frustration, for the past half year, you've been killing with no problem, but now that going to stop soon enough. You couldn't let the new cop win, this was no longer a game.

This was war.

You quickly dashed to your room, hopping on your bed and getting your laptop. You usually weren't the type of girl to stalk people but screw it, this Leon Kennedy needed to get out.

But to your dismay...he was a decent dude.

Nothing too important stood out. His Facebook was boring, the only pictures you could find were posted by his family. His Instagram was dry, he'd post without captioning his pictures. Who does that?!

You learned he graduated high school at 18, and then graduated from the academy early due to academic excellence and immediately got sent to a police station to work at only 21 years old. He didn't seem to have many friends, but then again, online life was nothing like real life.

But not all was lost. You learned he was 27 years old and single. You could use this to your advantage, to become the femme fatale everyone had been whispering about around the streets.

-

Leon went undercover to the town's most popular night club, he dressed casually and out of his uniform. The last thing he needed was for him to cause more panic than the serial killer had instilled.

"One beer, please," Leon ordered at the bar. The music blasting off from the speakers on the walls, lights down low as lasers and light sticks illuminated the place. People danced around, nothing too suspicious except for the disgusting display of affection by some couples.

"Here," the bartender said as he slid Leon his beer. He wasn't usually a beer guy, but he assumed he need a light drink to push through. vodka and tequila didn't seem fitting for the job he was currently trying to do.

He walked around the club, his eyes glancing everywhere for any suspicious activity. He had found none.

Well not nothing, his eyes landed back on the bar, walking towards it to get another drink and give up for the night. Until he saw you. You were dressed in a tight little dress, your hair and makeup done but he wasn't paying attention to any of that. He paid attention to the way you were talking with a guy.

Now, the idea was still a bit weak in his mind. He had no proof that the serial killer could be a woman but something in him was setting off his buttons of suspicion. Why hasn’t he thought about it before?

Maybe because he had no real reason too. He didn’t mean it, but he thought most murders were caused by men. But he just couldn’t shake off something about you. So he lingered a bit, deciding to forget about the beer and just focus on you.

It didn’t surprise him that you were flirting back with the guy that has been talking to you, he was handsome but not as handsome as himself (his own words). He stood far, making sure not to blow his cover. He hasn’t found anything remotely suspicious so it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on you, right?

That’s when he followed you out the club, the man walking next to you and guiding you to his car. That was weird but he’s heard of one night stands. Personally, Leon wasn’t that type of guy.

The streets were crowded at night and he lost sight of you for a quick second, until he spotted your figure getting pulled into an alley. Suspicious enough? Very much so. He didn’t hesitate to take out his gun from the waistband of his pants, getting ready to defend if anything were to happen to you. He was a cop and a gentleman after all.

But as he approached the isolated alley in which he last saw you, it was unexpectedly dark and quiet. Leon’s steps were slow and quiet as he walked further into the alley, his gun aimed and pointed in front of him in case something decided to jump at him. Luckily nothing did.

Although he did hear a sound. What was that? He wondered as he stepped deeper into the alleyway. His shoes rubbing off the cracked concrete floor until he was met with a horrific sight.

The man that had tried to take you to his car was found dead on the floor. He immediately dialed emergencies and went over to the man, it all happened to quickly and his eyes darted around to try and find you.

-

You knew you were being followed that night at the club and your suspicion was correct when you saw the familiar sight of a certain blonde man on the reflection of a car’s window. He’s astute, too astute for his own good.

Much to his dismay, the man you killed died on the way to the hospital so he couldn’t give out a statement of who had attacked him or what happened. But Leon wasn’t going to rest until he found you, was he?

You debated flying to another country, turning your back and leaving for good. But something stopped you from doing so. What about your job? What about your family and friends? They wouldn’t believe you if you went abroad in your own for no specific reason.

Curse you Leon Kennedy.

-

After that night, he’s been practically living in the station. Evidence piling up but he had no solid evidence that it was you who committed the crimes. His word alone couldn’t be trusted for two reasons; he didn’t even you actively attack the man and his opinion as a cap was already biased! He was in a pickle. It didn’t help that the higher ups pressured him into speeding up the case, they wanted the culprit to get caught already as all the men in the town cowered in their homes. Scared that they would be next.

Not so fun when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?

He knew he shouldn’t but he did anyway. His stalked for your information, sneaking into the town’s city hall to retrieve your files like birth certificates and such. Turns out the police didn’t hold these documents, the city hall did.

He had found your address and immediately began to drive to your place. He needed answers and he didn’t care that he was breaking police code. He knew it was you, you had to be involved in this somehow.

As he approached your place, he wanted to pound at the door like they did in FBI movies but he knew he had to act civil since he had no real evidence to base his suspicions on.

Once the door was opened, he noticed your startled expression, almost catching off guard by his sudden visit. And he wasn’t even wearing his uniform, “Officer,” you said as you stood by your door, “To what do I owe the pleasure…?”

“I saw you,” he said, jumping straight to the point, “The night that man died—you were with him. I saw you walk out of the club with him and then somehow, he died.”

His eyes were piercing daggers at you, almost as if he wanted to peek into your mind and read your thoughts.

But you only stared at him silently, Leon was too smart, “I didn’t feel good and he called me an Uber,” you lied casually.

“You didn’t feel good, huh?” He huffed in amusement, glancing away for a second before he looked back down at you.

“Yeah, I got drunk and started to feel sick. He did me a favor,” you continued with your lie, knowing damn well you weren’t sick at all.

He hummed and nodded his head once, nibbling his bottom lip as he stared at you with an analytical gaze.

“Take care, then,” he muttered, taking a step backwards, keeping his eyes on you. As if telling you that he was on to you. He was going to uncover your secret.

-

When he left, you felt as if the world almost stopped. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, your breathing labored as you thought about what the hell just happened. Damn you, Leon. You really know how to use that brain, huh?

You couldn’t just stop the murders, that would only give Leon more proof that you were the serial killer he was after. No, you needed to keep killing to stray him away. You did it with the other cops, couldn’t be that hard.

-

You’ve killed, but you killed less men. The police had advised individuals to remain in their homes after curfew. That it was dangerous with a serial killer still on the loose.

It was all so stupid. You were serving revenge to all the women who fell into the traps of men and here comes a man to stop you.

That’s when it hit you, what if you tried to kill the officer himself?

No, you couldn’t. That would only sell you out.

But what you could do was send him a message.

On your next victim, you planned it differently. Instead of the clean and simple murder way you usually go with, you decided that you’d be messy. Make him confused, make him believe that the serial killer was a scared person. That would shove him away from you for a while, right?

When Leon arrived at the crime scene, he saw the blood splattered around the brick walls of behind a convenience store. The body dumped inside the dumpster, his body slashed with knife wounds and face beaten up. You tried to make it seem like a man committed the murder, men were messy, right?

Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your perfectly messy murder, Leon had found CCTV footage of the whole thing with your face showing. This was solid evidence to finally get you.

-

And that’s how you ended up at the station’s interrogation room with your wrists cuffed to the table. The room was cold, grey, and bright. Almost looking like a hospital. Modern architecture kills artists.

“So,” Leon started as he sat across from you, files laying flat on the table, “Care to explain?”

“Explain what?” You feigned obliviousness.

“The murders, the blood—everything?”

You held back an eye roll, he had caught you and there was no point in lying, was there?

With a defeated sigh, you leaned back against the chair you were seated on, “I was… only trying to help,” you began quietly.

“Help? By committing murders and bringing terror to the town?”

“You don’t understand,” you immediately responded, a bit frustrated that he didn’t get to understand, “I killed those men because they’re nothing but a waste of space,” you spat bitterly.

He sat there in silence, brows pinching together as he crossed his arms over his chest, letting you continue. There’s no going back when the cat’s been out of the bag.

With a sharp inhale, you continued, “Those men, they do bad things. Prey on women and take advantage of them… I was tired, so, so, so tired, officer…” you whispered.

“When I realized that a man had tried to drug me and take advantage of me, something in me snapped and I knew then that I couldn’t sit back and let him do whatever he wanted to me. I refused to become an object for horny men that can’t keep their dick inside their pants,” you muttered, leaning forward as your eyes narrowed at Leon. You weren’t blaming Leon but he understood your motives.

“So you took it upon yourself to get rid of these guys…” he muttered, his head slowly nodding as he let the information rest in his mind.”

“I did,” you admitted, “I had to.”

“You had to?” He repeated as his eyebrows raised.

“Yes—you don’t understand what it’s like to fear for your life just because of your gender. I didn’t choose to be born this way so why should I let people treat me like shit?”

“I understand where you’re coming from but hurting other people will only hurt you,” he said quietly as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, “How much longer did you think you could’ve kept going, hm? You’re a smart girl, Y/n, you deserve better than jail.”

His words were sincere and for a moment, your walls came down. He was right, in a way, how much longer could you have kept killing people before it caught up to you? Before you lost your mind? You didn’t even think about that.

Silence took over and he sighed softly, looking you over with pity. You were young, smart, and had a bright future ahead of you. He almost felt bad for wanting to catch you this whole time. Almost.

“What’s done is done,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “You committed unforgivable crimes…” his voice trailed off.

“But you had a good reason for them,” he muttered and pulled the files back towards him, “You were defending yourself and your friends during these occasions. It was self defense,” he said firmly, as if he was changing your story.

Wait, what?

The files in his hands held the pictures of you violently killing people, but never once did he actually open that file. Instead, he made up a story for you…

“Why?” You whispered, staring deeply into his eyes. He shrugged and stood up, “Everyone’s been on their best behavior, right?”

-

It’s been a few days since you’ve been questioned. Leon had gotten rid of the evidence and instead made up new ones that led to the story he fabricated for you.

It was all surreal.

Never once in your life, you would’ve thought a cop would help you. You felt shocked, baffled, and confused. But a part of you was grateful. You should’ve known the court system of this town was just as careless as the police station before Leon came because all they did was give you a slap on the wrist and let you go. Once again, not wishing to have their reputation tarnished.

You’ve stopped your killings, for obvious reasons. But, you were glad you’ve lived your five seconds of fame. Even if your identity was never exposed to the public.

You owed it all to Leon. Too bad he had left town. He returned to his city, claiming he had some unfinished business (most like with his chief for throwing him into this town so unexpectedly).

Part of you missed him, it was fun while it lasted, right?

[radioactivewisdom]

Women will practice and uphold patriarchal beauty standards they personally conform to. It’s all fun and games when you’re the preferred fetish. Body types, hair colors and textures, lip size, skin tones, etc are all ways in which women are ranked. Egos are bruised when different models go in and out of style. Not because those women want to forgo such ideals altogether, but because they’re unable to embody the latest trend. Let thee without a makeup brush make the first accusation of brainwashing.

A “feminist” former model turned influencer, has dedicated her retirement to preaching about the beauty industry. Writing paragraphs about how her efforts to get dolled up resulted in no dating offers, because men were interested in younger women. This then propelled her into calling out unrealistic beauty standards. The same standards she enjoyed gleefully in youth. Citing she misses “turning heads” and ignoring the hypocrisy of her first marriage to a much older man. Her ultimate goal being a societal shift into including older women into the category of “sexy.”

Women with faces full of filler and glue adhesive on their eyelids will claim it’s ridiculous to rate women based on body shapes. Women who buy undergarments with the purpose of pushing their breast together have something to say about butts being the new thing. Women who sell out Sephoras in college complain about the pressure of maintaining youth with each passing birthday. The body positivity movement is filled with cognitive dissonance. “This standard is bad! Wait, what do you mean my hair dye and eyeliner are included in that? It’s not that deep and I do it for myself anyway!”

When women are “winning” the patriarchal game of penises and empty promises, they will do anything to maintain their status. Social capital is kept through presenting yourself as sexually available to heterosexual males. That is the foundation on which all beauty standards are built, regardless of what women tell themselves. Competitiveness is the sole purpose behind women’s picking and choosing of which aesthetic preference’s should be maintained. Remember, women are hierarchical too, and heterosexual world dominance is perpetuated through pecking order.

I’ll take claims of unfair beauty standards seriously when I see women rejecting ALL of them in mass. Until then, the same women shaving off their body hair can keep begging the pedo’s they’re appealing to for less judgment on their ass size/shape. Every woman wants to be the exception, the one who accepts patriarchy’s “prizes,” but escapes its eventual expiration date. There’s no having it both ways. Men cannot be both your oppressors and saviors. Perform and play dress up for the penis, then graciously bow and exit the stage when it demands the next act.

[flagellant]

Have you talked at all about your feelings about Barbie? Cause what little I've seen seems to like up with my feelings on it and it feels weird to be surrounded by unbridled praise or MRAs hating on it because it's Girly™️

At the end of the day Barbie was only ever going to be able to be just a Barbie movie. At the end of the day Mattel paid Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling more than $10,000,000 to be Stereotypical Barbie and Ken. At the end of the day Mattel's stock price has risen to more than 20 dollars per share, more than double in the past two years. At the end of the day Mattel wanted Greta Gerwig to make them a movie that would make the most people possible want to buy more Barbie-branded things. At the end of the day Mattel would only have released a "new breakup movie" if that press was considered more profitable. At the end of the day, Barbie is a story that wants to sell you Barbie, and therefore it cannot have a message which would distract from selling you Barbie. At the end of the day the Mattel CEO and board go back to the real world having learned no valuable life lessons beyond "Listening to a Mexican woman can make you major profit margins". At the end of the day the mother and her daughter have learned the valuable life lesson that the only way the world will pay any attention to the banality of your suffering is if you can sell it to a lot of young girls. At the end of the day Ken's friend Allen is never allowed to be a Ken (man) and therefore is constantly associated with, but never as, the Barbies (women), and no one seems to question this nor care. At the end of the day, all of the Barbies learn that in order to defeat the patriarchy you must be emotionally manipulative and flirty-but-in-an-evil-way. At the end of the day Barbie tells a story about biological essentialism and battle-of-the-sexes in a bright pink #Empowering way and Margot Robbie cries several times. Kens are told that they are "not 'just' Kens" but also that the reason that they sought out the comfort of patriarchy--the idea that their masculinity and manhood was something to be cherished and respected just as much as a Barbie's femininity is, and that they were not lesser or greater than each other--will not be addressed as anything more than a hilarious Gotcha meta-laugh about how at the end of the day women still don't have rights in any meaningful way no matter how empowered they are under the current system. The conflict built around having no vocabulary to describe the complex and difficult emotions that these dolls have been going through has been resolved by ending the movie before resolving or questioning this. At the end of the day the Kens are villains and jokes, and as the credits roll, we can be safe in knowing that absolutely nothing has changed and all of this will happen again in the exact same ways.

In the movie Barbie, at the end of the day, Ken asks to sleep over at Barbie's Dream House for the night, and she tells him no, because it is Girl's Night, every night, forever. We see the Barbies go to sleep with Stereotypical Barbie saying, "Good night, Barbies! I'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!" This is very funny, and she goes to sleep and then wakes up feeling probably about how I do every morning, which is supposed to be relatable.

At the end of the day, in the movie Barbie, we see Ken walking away from Stereotypical Barbie's deathless and eternal slumber party dejected and alone. He is walking to the exit of the Barbie Dreamhouse Neighborhood. We do not see if he gets to go to sleep in his own house. We, in fact, see quite a lot which implies he is homeless and goes to sleep on the beach, which I was forced to do when I was 18 in Santa Cruz in one of my first attempts to escape a toxic and abusive household. I still remember the way that the sea can rot when trapped by wooden pier foundations, covered in mildew-wet seafoam, old kelp from the high tide, and the way that when I got up the next morning you could see exactly how I'd fallen asleep like an old-school chalk outline of where a corpse was.

At the end of the day, in the movie Barbie, what the Kens wanted revolved around having their own homes that they could go to sleep in and fill with things that made them happy just like how the Barbies did. This is supposed to be a symbol of patriarchy, because they corrupted the femininity of the Dream Houses, and that is bad. When the Barbies win, at the end of the day, the Dream Houses go back to being Dream Houses, and we still have never once seen any sign that the Kens had houses, and the movie assures us that if they don't, then "maybe someday" they might have enough societal power to be able to try and fight for a house that they're allowed to own and have be theirs, something that women in Western society have only quite relatively recently gained the permission and possibility to do, and Barbieland is basically the same as the real world but with the "two" genders switched.

At the end of the day, if I try to actually analyze the Barbie movie as a bioessentialist antifeminist and anti-intersectional regressive film which glorifies the thinnest possible shred of pro-capitalism feminism possible, I'll sound like a fucking lunatic, because it's just a stupid movie about dolls made to sell you Barbies, and of course it would never be anything but bioessentialist pro-capitalist toothless brand bullshit which wants you to think that Margot Robbie and wearing pink are the peaks of antipatriarchal activism. At the end of the day, Celluloid Barbie can only exist because Mattel thinks Celluloid Barbie would make its brand a lot of money, and not because it actually cares about the anti-ageing fatphobic standards of Western womanhood, because Mattel is a brand which can care about nothing except being a machine which you put money into and in exchange pink plastic bullshit comes out.

[strawberrynightmere]

Bride Not To Be [Yandere Andrew Graves X Julia!Reader]

TW⚠️: yandere tendencies, arranged marriage, mentioned murder, kidnaping, mentioned cannibalism, changes of p.o.v (I guess), a little bit of Ashley in there, my writing, etc.

A/n: to the anon that requested this, the first part of your request got eaten by tumblr, I'm very sorry.

You never really thought you'd be engaged, much less in an arranged marriage. And it is shit.

No, it's not because you were still in college. No, it wasn't because you are still hung over Andrew, though it does play a roll there. But no, it's because you have to do all the housework in this godforsaken house. You'd think that you learned from your parents' marriage that you wouldn't end up like your mother. Sadly, patriarchy has its way of crawling into someone's life. For you, it's because your "fiance", and that is put very loosely, is teaching you cardiology.

What's a desperate girl gotta do?

You hang up the phone and sigh, you just got the news that your mother won't be coming due to flight complications. The party that was happening in the other room really wasn't helping.

Your fiance and father were having a get-together with some friends and colleagues. Dinner, drinks, conversations, and when you peeked I for a second, you could see that man you are supposed to marry flirting with that one colleague he calls his "work wife".

Disgusting.

You were doomed to end up bound to someone who doesn't care about you as a person.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the dreaded day is finally here, you spend the little time you have left looking yourself in the mirror since you asked for a little alone time.

Soon, someone will knock on that door and tell you it's time to go.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and turn off, and screams could be heared outside.

You get off the chair and crawl your way to the door since it was pitch black. When you finally feel the wooden door, you get up and readjust your dress and are about to turn the doorknob, but then you stop in realization.

The screaming has stopped.

The lights flicker back on, and you find yourself staring at the door. Something heavy weights on your chest.

You look at the door.

You look back at your life.

Running to the window, attempting to open it, only to find it jammed stuck.

"Dammit." You say.

Looking around the room, you decide to hide in the closet.

Holding your breath when you hear the door bust open. Footsteps are growing closer and closer to where you are.

Pleading to God that the assailant doesn't open the door and find you.

After a moment or two, the footsteps fade away.

You sigh in releaf.

Which turned out to be a mistake.

The closet door abruptly opens, and before you can scream, the assailant grabs you, and you black out.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Tying up your arms and legs, Andrew takes notice of your dress. It's too modest and ugly in his opinion. He wouldn't have thought of you wearing something like that.

But does that really matter now that you're back in his arms?

He picks you up and carries you out.

As he was exiting the building, he saw Ashley chopping up the soulless groom with the intent to serve him for lunch.

"Andy, before you say anything-" Ashley gets cut off

"I don't care, just get in the car when you're done." He said before leaving.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Laying you in the trunk, Andrew caresses your face, wiping off a bit of that leaking mascara and kisses your forehead.

Oh, how he missed you.

A/n: Again, I apologize for taking so long, and I hope it was up to anons standards.

[s0ft-d3cay]

Of Course My King

Alpha!Shigaraki Tomura x Omega!Male Reader | I'm back!!(2/12/25:edited)

WARNINGS: Omegaverse, omega reader, established relationship, mentions of reader having a child(not explicitly explained to be adopted), the kid is reference as pup and young one(they/them pronouns are used for them as well), Omegaverse misogyny, reader being ignored as an omega in power, oh yeah found family trope, from the period when Shigaraki was in the tank, only he was fully incubated and had time to plan an attack, mentions of patriarchy and talking down of the reader, Shigaraki reminds you of your worth, mentions of up coming war, y/n used

WC: 1,362

Two weeks before the breach, both Shigaraki and Y/N were now in a meeting with deemed leaders and their group platoons. The omega taking the conversation and main points as both a leader and on sight healer. A large table surrounded by 15 people, the white haired alpha right beside the omega as he instructed the set plan.

The alpha stayed silent and attentive as he watched his mate, more than impressed at the omega's leadership and the way that he was able to handle everyone around him so well. The alpha would keep an eye out of the villains, not allowing attention to stray away from the job at hand. The alpha would observe how everyone would interact with the omega and how the meeting would progress.

"…with all that being said, we’ll have one last meeting two days before our attack. I will see you all there." Y/N closes the meeting with that statement, the rest of the villains simply replying with a nod or ignoring him entirely before exiting the room. The omega now collecting his notes, organizing the mess of papers on the large desk before him.

Shigaraki couldn’t help but look over the omega, admiration blooming through his chest at the sight of him. "You worked quite fast while I was gone, didn’t you?" The alpha chuckled softly at his own words and the smile on his face became wider. Y/N’s gaze flickers up at the white-haired alpha, smiling smugly. Shuffling the papers in a folder as he replies.

"I do what I can.." He seats himself on the large table, legs crossed at the ankle and arms draped down the tabletop, eyes admiring the alpha closely as he continues. "All things considered, they actually were listening this time around instead of questioning my authority as usual."

A rocky feeling within Shigaraki sinks from Y/N’s words, "You have a genuine leadership quality, they should be grateful that you to lead them." He looks away for a second to think for a bit in which he would come to the realization that the meeting had gone smoothly. "You did an amazing job, so you should allow yourself to be very proud because you truly deserve to be."

Y/N shakes his head, gaze hollow and dismissive. "I’m not the reason why they were attentive. If you weren’t here, I would’ve had an ear full of what I should be doing instead of leading an army." Red eyes widened in disappointment for how dismissive the omega was about it all, too kind for his own good.

With a sigh, he stands up from the desk reaching to grasp Shigaraki’s hand with careful fingers, leading the two out. The alpha would just smile lightly at Y/N's comment, his voice becoming soft as his hand was now clasped with the other man's hand. "I know that…because of me you get so much more respect, my presence alone commands the attention of everyone but…to be completely honest, your words and commands always carry more weight than mine."

The omega knew better than to believe what the alpha had said, sure he had some good ideas and ways of attacking, but he also knew that no one would truly listen to him. No matter how true and correct he was, they only saw him as an omega. "I’ll just take your word for it.."

Shigaraki took quick notice of Y/N's tone, hush and dejected than the usual. This situation truly bothered the omega and the alpha couldn't help but feel a spike of annoyance towards the villains for dismissing the other man's efforts in terms of leadership. "Hey…" The alpha's voice came out soft and gentle as he got Y/N's attention.

The man’s head turns to face the alpha, eyes gleaming in question yet dulled by thoughts of doubt. He stops walking in the long hallway, awaiting the white haired leader's words. Shigaraki turned his entire body to face the omega, his gaze gentle and fondly held in the Y/N's eyes as he began to speak. "The way they act…it bothers you."

"What bothers me is that I provide housing for them and food on their table only for them to defame and mock me. Telling me to turn tail back home and make more pups.” Y/N answered, annoyance at the difficulty he’s been facing for the past few months as leader. Shigaraki felt nothing but slight disgust rise inside his rib cage, the poor omega is giving them a place to stay and food to eat. Yet, all he gets for it is complaints and insults.

The alpha's voice reverberates in a sharper tone. "And then what? What would happen if you actually did leave and left them to fend for themselves? What happens if you finally put your foot down and make them see the consequences from their actions?"

Answering with aggravation entwining with his words. "I have, and they continued to tell me how overemotional I am being and how I was acting more like a kid than my own-“ Y/N then released a heavy sigh, shaking his head. Cutting himself off before continuing. "Sorry…I-I just want them to listen and respect my words wholeheartedly.” Shigaraki would shake his head slightly at what an ungrateful group of individuals the villains are, he couldn't believe how rude they were despite not only your good intentions.

"I…I’m not made to rule, sure I’ve been a leader for a handful of months. But I can’t rule over people, that would defeat the purpose of what we’re fighting.” Y/N gently answered back, slight hesitation in the omega's words. A sadly normal occurrence for the omega.

"You're not ruling, you're leading. You have the qualities of a leader, not only that but you’re kind, considerate and most of all loyal."

“I-" The omega cuts himself off, his gaze lowers to his fidgeting hands. "What about the kid?" He brings up apprehensively, eyes flickering back up. His protective instincts flaring up at the idea of leaving the small pup alone during the beginning of the war. The alpha would chuckle to himself a little bit after hearing the omega's concerns. Shigaraki would nod his head slowly before speaking up after a few moments of silence.

“They're smart and a fast learner, I'm sure they'll understand.” Y/N shakes his head. "That’s not what I meant…" He whispers, his eyes dull over in guilt. "I don’t want them involved." He states firmly.

A moment of surprise would show itself on Shigaraki's face after hearing what the omega had just said, it was true that he had noticed the worry over the young one in the past. But now, with their plan of attack on the line, he was scared. "We don't even have to, they'll be safe. Hidden away from everything, far away.” Y/N scoffs out a laugh, his lips pull in a small smile.

"When you were their age, would you listen to your guardian's and sit out one if not the most important fight of the century?” Shigaraki didn’t have to think before a slight grin appeared on his mouth. Past memories muddied yet clear in his mind, "No, I would want to be with us, even if it would be dangerous for me to do so." He answered.

A hand raises to brush his fingers through the omega's hair, a small gesture of affection before he spoke further. “We'll figure it out.” Y/N’s ears perked up at the soft brush of fingers, his chest rumbling in purrs as he nods. The alpha would then raise a hand, he would slowly take the omega's hand into his, eyes tenderly adoring the omega.

Y/N's lips lift up to a heart-soaring smile, he chuckles airily. Eyes beginning to gloss over before he leans in to kiss the man. Their shared lips pressing tenderly for a moment, purr erupting from both chests as hearts fall in synced. "I’m with you until the end, my king."

Shigaraki's face would turn into a soft happy smile, it was nice to see Y/N's reaction of happiness instead of the usual doubt and distant gaze. Now looking forward to the future the three of them would have.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights of any of the characters I write about, all the rights go to their respective creators.

[luxe-pauvre]

Girlhood, by my read, is constraint. Girlhood sits in the audience, watching the world ogle and adore an idea of her—this is the best time of your life, your youth goes so quick, you’ll never be as young and beautiful as you are now—then exits the theater to a world without options. You can’t have free will or personal autonomy—you’re a girl. What you say can’t be brilliant—it’s said like a girl. You can’t skateboard, your soccer team doesn’t have the funding to travel to Nationals, the idiot on your debate team will represent the school, despite the fact that you’ve done most of the work. It’s always the concluding sentence on the other side of disappointment: You’re a girl, you’re a girl, you’re a girl. Naturally, the promise of womanhood is romanticized for girls growing up under patriarchy, just as the memory of girlhood is for working women. The adult characters of “Girlboss,” “It Girl,” or “Brat” invite a reverence that true girlhood never enjoys; growing up is the opportunity to be taken seriously, to be listened to, to be regarded as something more than a girl. The contemporary rush for young girls to grow up isn’t due to Gen Alpha being more mature; it’s an escape. The hope is: The sooner we become women, the more human we become. […] In their attempt to escape girlhood, youth today are graciously accepting their own exploitation…as long as it comes in feminist packaging.

Jade Hurley, your fave is selling a pedophilic fantasy

[solarswonderland]

a photo and patriarchy

pairing: gn!reader x yujin

wc: 0.8k

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of barbie and spiderman, mentions of kidnapping (as a joke), mentions of feminism and patriarchy (again, as a joke),

summary: a movie and a photobooth. what could go wrong?

a/n: requested by this lovely anon <3

“yujinnn hurry up, we are going to be so late.” you groaned as you rolled around on the bed.

“beauty takes time, y/n!” he yelled from the bathroom, slapping serum onto his face.

you loved how much your boyfriend paid attention to taking care of his skin, most boys your age don’t do that. but it gets frustrating sometimes, especially when he does all his tasks at the speed of a turtle and you guys are certainly going to be late for your movie.

“yujin, need i remind you this is exactly how we were an hour late for spiderman? We enter the theatre and suddenly there’s an indian spiderman with awesome hair yelling about tea to like 5 other spidermans. i wanted to laugh but i didn’t understand why i was laughing,” you whine, trying to control yourself from screaming into a pillow.

yujin rolled his eyes as he exited the bathroom.

“calm down, i’m ready.” he did a little twirl. “how do i look?”

“exactly the same as you did 20 minutes ago.”

“ouch.” 

after around 10 minutes of yujin insisting that he does indeed look different than before he did his skincare, you guys ran out of his house and got in the car.

“what took you guys so long?” yujin’s dad asks, as he starts the car engine.

“yujin was trying to look pretty” you deadpanned, earning a scoff from the latter.

“i don’t have to try, i AM pretty.”

you and his dad laughed at him. eventually, the laughter died down and his dad drove you guys to the theatre. 

you always felt sleepy in cars. or just any vehicle. you slowly start to fall asleep, your head dangling sideways when suddenly, you feel a hand on your head, slowly guiding you to a warm shoulder. you sneak a peak and find yujin staring at you while his hand is patting your head.

“do i look like a dog to you? why are you patting my head?” you asked him. 

he blushed. “shut up and go to sleep.” you giggled and held his hand, falling asleep.

around 20 minutes later you guys reached the theatre. yujin woke you up (after lots of protests) and you guys ran inside, showing your tickets at the front desk. you walked into the theatre, and no surprise, you were late. as in, late late.

you glared at yujin who just smiled at you sheepishly. you took your seats as you tried to decipher the plotline so far. trust me, it was hard. so far it was just ken yelling “patriarchy!” over and over again.

after the movie was over (along with both of you googling the plotline to understand the whole film), yujin could not shut up.

“i swear y/n, ken is my true calling i’m telling yo- STOP LAUGHING AT ME!”

you just continued laughing anyway because you are a menace <3. after walking around for a while, you spotted something. you pulled him by the sleeve.

“what the hel- are you kidnapping me????” he asked frantically, fear evident in his eyes. you rolled your eyes before pointing to a booth. a photobooth. ohh.

both of you entered the booth and paid the money.

In the first photo, yujin has his arm around your shoulder, as both of you hold up a ‘V’ sign. In the second photo, yujin has a wide smile on his face while you pout (the hatred i have for this word…)  as he uses your head as an armrest. In the third photo, you give yujin a kiss on the cheek. In the fourth photo, he gives you a kiss on the cheek. 

both of you exit the booth, laughing and giggling at all the photos you took.

yujin’s dad waits for you guys outside the mall, a small smile appearing on his face looking at the two of you.

“how was the movie?” was the first question he asked when you got into the car. 

“feminism is my religion.” yujin stated, looking proud of himself, while you facepalmed and his dad suppressed a giggle.

“thats not how it works- you know what? i’m not even gonna try.”

– time skip to your house –

“thank you so much for dropping me, mr.han!” you thank his dad, who simply smiles and salutes at you. yujin exits the car and holds your hand, leading you to the door.

“i know this whole day was chaotic and messy, but i had fun.” you said to him sweetly.

“obviously, you spent the whole day with ME.” he stated proudly, while you deadpanned at him. 

“for real though, i had loads of fun too. everything is loads of fun with you,” he told you shyly, with a hand on his neck while you smiled uncontrollably. you were going to kiss his cheek, when the sound of his dad's honk interrupted the moment. 

“get a room!”

© solarswonderland 2023

[fierceawakening]

So… what IS “liberal feminism” anyway?

Those of you who know me know that I believe the basic things I think feminists believe. Society has a history of patriarchy, of men being seen as rulers and statesmen, and this filters down so deep that men are described as little kings of their homes. Women are assumed to be supporters and nurturers, helping behind the scenes and raising kids. None of this is evil as an individual choice, but when it’s blown up and dictated as the rules of society, it hurts both the people who don’t want to or can’t follow the rules (and many if not most people can’t now that economies assume 2 income households) and also those who do follow them, by hiding other options from them and not letting them bend the rules if they find they need to (see the bit about economies assuming 2 person households.)

Im no longer active in explicitly feminist groups, because I had bad experiences in groups that became high control, to the point where I found an intimate partner in one of the groups, and she turned out to be verbally abusive (and did things that put me at physical risk too, which I think were her testing the waters. I think if I’d stayed another month, i would have been hit.)

So I hang out on the edges—yeah, I agree mostly but I’ve been burned so I’ll be over there. Come get me if you need more people, I got you. I just need to lurk close to the exit, it’s nothing personal.

But there’s one thing I keep seeing, including recently, that I never could figure out: the idea of a “liberal feminist.”

I know HOW the term is used. It’s an insult, mostly. A way to say that someone cares on the surface about feminism but won’t REALLY have your back if you need them. But WHAT it means, I don’t know.

If you ask the people doing the insulting, it means someone who only cares about women’s rights under the law. Someone who very much wants hiring discrimination to stay illegal but gets squishy as soon as someone wants to leave an abuser because “personal choice” isn’t and shouldn’t be covered under the law.

Back in My Day, “liberal feminism” was contrasted with “radical feminism.” Liberal feminism was described as the movement of activists trying to write, pass, and enact laws ensuring equal rights.

They were, however, namby pamby. “Radical” people “got to the root” of the problem. What “the root” was, much ink was spilled in an effort to define, but no one that I remember actually ever hit on a working definition that made clear who needed to do what or how we knew we finished doing it.

This I think is another bit of proof the groups were high control. It’s very common for high control groups to have a core slogan that’s very vague, precisely so that they can spend most of their time infighting about what it means and purging subgroup a whole thinks it means this in favor of subgroup b who thinks it means that.

It’s also how i personally think “radical feminism” went from “many groups are trans exclusive, but it’s not inevitable” to basically synonymous with trans exclusion.

The people who saw trans people as invaders had a clear task: expel them! They paired this with a clear measurable goal: how many are gone? Is that rate fast enough?

In contrast, the people who saw “the root” as something more nebulous, while better people, had no similarly clear conflicting vision for what it meant and what to do, so they were eventually pushed out.

All this as long preamble to say: I think we had it wrong when we condemned others as “liberal,” and I think the degree to which we had it wrong is coming home to roost now that we have a fascist government.

The people the fash are targeting are not just people who have a vague, scary notion of “the root.” They are targeting women’s legal rights. Directly and obviously. They’re literally saying men should proxy vote for their families.

Why is this happening?

Because legal rights and legal battles are not, as many groups describe, a funny little cherry on top of fighting oppression, where you get a little prize but there’s a kraken lurking under there.

The legal rights and legal battles are HOW you fight the kraken under there. They’re armor and weapons.

To put it in rpg terms: Each legal fight you win upgrades your gear.

OF COURSE the enemy is going to target your legal status. You can’t effectively fight a level 999 end boss with Tattered Leather Breastplate and a Notched Shortsword, and your enemies know it.

[virtue-boy]

Went on a transandrophobia truther blog and instantly saw this ..

1) love the slight of hand where he says "being trans" instead of actually identifying any positionality or god forbid mentioning WOMANHOOD as a type of positionality in his post which allows him to call trans women men and completely disregard the experience of the closested trans WOMAN. Telling that your argument hinges on "after transitioning to a man I am exactly the same as a woman undercover as a man"

2) just say you're not on T and you don't know anyone who is. Like as someone who's passed as male on an off for my whole life and now fully passes as male all the time thanks to T I low key snorted reading this... Liiike let's be for real here passing as a man (and doubly so if u are binary and have the pronouns to match) and passing gives you privilege out the fucking wazoo and I literally think about it every time I leave the house, meet new people, take blue collar jobs, interact w people on public transit, walk around at night, go to gay clubs, bond w male overseers, look for roommates, etc. This is obviously extremely racialized as much as it is gendered, but there is literally not a single "privilege" I had as a girl (that was assumed to be a guy 50-70% of the time) that I lost as a guy.

3) Also how do trans men "inherently defy patriarchal manhood" I literally know a trans guy who went to jail for domestic violence against a woman like trans men are incredibly capable of accessing and enacting patriarchy and thinking ourselves justified in accessing patriarchal homosociality. Like we are literally becoming men and we don't just magically exit the patriarchal society because we aren't the men at the top of the make food chain.... a la R.W. Connel. Being trans men means we lose some for being trans but we win some because we are men. Like gay men are frequently denied their masculinity but it would be dodo brained to act like gay men have no male homosociality they can access or that no gay man has ever accessed male homosociality. Like if u believe that you actually don't know any gay history Attttt Alllllll 😭 like genuinely. We also earn more money per dollar than women in our same gender modality, that doesn't sound like "inherently defying patriarchal manhood" to me that sounds actually like a pretty typical social positionality for oppressed and marginalized men. Like in my own friend groups, at school, and in my music and promotions scene being an (openly trans) man actually has granted me actually a lot of homosociality that I can draw on.