you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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guys cmon. be ffr please. akemi did Not love taigen. the only reason why she was desperate to search for him to the point of putting herself in danger is because she didn't want to get married to an abusive man (which she believed at the time that takayoshi was). when seki tried to dissuade her from running off, her reason was not "but i love taigen and wanna be with him 🥺" it was because she refused to be controlled and have her autonomy taken from her; she literally says "i won't be locked away in edo married to a stranger." and when seki still tries to argue that getting married to the heir of the shogun would be better than getting caught by brigands, she then says "that kind of man"—referring to takayoshi—"treats women like animals. they say he's a tyrant." and when seki chuckles and says "what man isn't?" her response is "you." she doesn't even talk about taigen. she is using him as much as he was using her. they both see—or, well, saw—each other as means to an end. for taigen he saw that marrying into the tokunobu clan would elevate his status and wealth. for akemi she wanted the right to choose who she married, and she wanted that person to be someone kind. that's it! neither of them loved each other. but since they were courting of course they acted sweet to each other, and they do still care for one another, especially due to their romantic history. but let's be real! akemi is a boss bitch who dropped taigen and forgot all about his ass as soon as she saw takayoshi was a nice guy. because duh? not only is takayoshi a better lover (it's implied their lovemaking lasted a long time) but he's also kinder towards her and presents her with an opportunity to claim power and freedom, which she would not have if she had married taigen, as she would have still been stuck under her father's thumb. so literally why should she settle for taigen's stupid ass! she may be a little naive at times but she's still incredibly intelligent. she would not do something stupid for the sake of "love." you know who would though? taigen.
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What For?
I study. I study for my future. I study for my parents. For myself.
I study. And I study decently well. I work hard. And I bear the fruits of it.
I study. And I read. And I sketch and write and work and apply and am rejected and apply again. And what is it for?
It’s not for my parents. It’s sort of for me. But it’s mostly for my future.
I have a fantasy. It is not realistic, as most fantasies are. But oh, I have a fantasy, and it is one that I will be punished for voicing.
I fantasise that one day I will meet a girl. A girl with honest eyes, a girl with a genuine smile. Whose hair I could run my hands through. Whose waist I could put my arm around. Whose weight I could sink into. Whose words I could wrap around me, a comforting weight.
My fantasy is simple. To be somewhere, somewhere, somewhere I can say I love a girl and know I can have a future with her. Somewhere, somehow, sometime, I can spend my life with her. Or a few months. Or a few years. The luxury of loving who I want to love. Is that such a terrible amount to ask?
Why do you demonise me? Why do you tell me I should be grateful? Should I be fucking grateful that I have told all of five people and only two have kept my dignity? Should I be fucking grateful that I’m not a criminal as of five years ago? Should I fall to my knees and pathetically plead for you to give me rights, give me respect, give me a promise?
Give me a promise; one that you won’t break, won’t go back on, won’t consider unreasonable?
I must fight to exist! I am told that my living body is enough of a blessing, when I can never breathe a word of my desires. I am told my alternatives are some sort of concession on your part.
What harm am I doing to your precious democracy, your caricature of diversity, your farce of a progressive agenda? What harm does it do to you, every minute I die inside because I know I may likely marry someone I will never want to touch.
What is it? Tell me.
What does it feel like?
Is it a knife in your back, poison in your veins, a slit through your throat? Because you know as well as I do, your sadism knows no bounds. My people. Your people. The people who have turned and will turn on you. They met their ends the very same way, correct? You let them meet their ends in the very same way.
You acknowledge our existence only to call us a problem. A box of knickknacks in your attic. They’ll look nice on display, don’t you think? Oh dear, they’re so dirty with dust, coated with cobwebs, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. A problem for another day, don’t you think? A problem for another lifetime.
Oh yes, you think i’m a problem. Of course, you think i’m a problem.
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oh dear bisexuality leave me alone
let me stop craving the love of a man
oh dear bisexuality let me love
another girl like me
cute soft big kind smart
oh dear bisexuality leave me alone
let me be that perfectly dainty lady
who waits and acts with patience
I'm scarring boys with this
impatience desire to hunt a little prey
a little 2 meters tall prey
big hairy slow and timid as a bear prey
whos too complicated to decipher
and the only person who has dare to look at me
directly in the eyes
oh bisexuality why don't you
let me keep loving girls who hurt me
why don't you let me love them in silence
let them come to me...
let them beat me to death once more
oh dear bisexuality just stop
stop me from being the confusing part of love
allow me to be the one
who is easily loved.
FS.
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