#thank you women i love you so much

[cnidarian-tidalwave]

ERIN HUNTER IS A PSEUDONYM?!?!??!!?? GIRL WHAT??????? My entire childhood was a lie.

[stil-lindigo]

warmth.

a comic about not being alone.

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creative notes:

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all my other comics

store

[beanghostprincess]

If Sanji can date Luffy's brothers I think it's time for us to talk about Nami dating Luffy's sister

[rottiens]

Stepmom Yuki has severe breeding kink 😔✊️

she fucks you nice and deep, putting her hands on your belly looking adoringly at the way the cock separates your slippery folds and she would love nothing more than to fill you to the last drop. she in fact, debates whether she would love to cum in your folds or so deep inside you. her thumb moves from your belly button to your clit and strokes it sweetly as she takes the leg above her shoulder and kisses your calf, moving her hips in such a way that she manages to get even deeper.

the idea of her seed inside you, your tits swollen from pregnancy and her lips on your sweet sensitive nipples is what makes her cum silently, calling your name as she bites your skin.

[mayhem-ensues]

People with no interest in Yuri at all really will just say "well that series is probably made for men" about stories that are written by lesbians, huh?

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Straightforward Mitts by Mone Dräger, modified!

I made these with Dye Mad Yarns' Chester Sock base in Play for a Purpose (2023). The pattern linked above does not come with fingers, but a friend saw @ninalanfer's version modified to include half fingers and loved it. So, naturally, I had to Make These For Them :)

Huge shout-out to nina for generously linking me (an absolute finger-knitting noob) helpful patterns and notes for learning how to do fingers! It was super helpful and very appreciated, and now I feel Unstoppable!!

[cerise-on-top]

IT'S MEEEE! 😆 how're you doing?

I want some ANGST! But with a happy ending with Fluff!

Valeria/Laswell/Farah have a stressful day, and they are in a bad mood and take it out in the reader.

Take your time and take care! 🫶

Hello again! Welcome back! I'm doing fine, I'm just a bit tired right now, but I should be alright by tomorrow! First off, I'm so sorry this took so long! I tried to make it a bit longer than I usually would as an apology! There's not a whole lot of angst, aside from the girls having had a rough day and accidentally letting it out on reader, but I tried! I hope it's to your liking! Thank you for your request!

Valeria, Farah and Laswell Taking their Anger out on Reader but then Comforting them

Valeria: It was likely Alejandro who got on her nerves, chasing her like a dog would its own tail, only to never catch her after all. If she could, she would have him killed just like that. Much to her dismay, however, he was slippery, a trained killer whose only weakness was either himself or Rudy. But even the latter was hard to catch, so both of them meeting a fitting end would yet have to wait some more. At that moment, all Valeria wanted was to spill some blood. Anyone’s would have been fine. Walking through the door to your shared home, she watched you fold some clothes in the living room, putting them aside carefully so as to not put too many folds in them. Waving to her once you put down the sweater, you greeted her, wanting to throw your arms around your partner. Yet, fear struck you as Valeria glared at you, looking as though she was about to rip your throat out using her bare teeth. Thus, you kept your hug to yourself, a bit intimidated by her.

Instead, you tell her that you made some food, some vegetable stew, which she could easily reheat in the kitchen. Somehow, that information made her even more furious. Seemingly disappointed in your choice of cooking, she cussed. At first not at you, but when you tried to deescalate the situation, insisting that you could cook her a meat based dish as well, Valeria’s fuse blew. Her voice grew louder, almost booming, with her explicitly telling you that she didn’t fucking care about the food. It wasn’t the first time you had seen her act like this, but not towards you. Therefore you figured she must have had an extremely rough day. Even so, when she was done, you muttered an apology, going to your room and avoiding her for the rest of the evening so she could blow off some steam. It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known after all, but you still felt like a failure, awaiting the seconds, the minutes, the hours, until you could finally go to bed. Just hearing Valeria stomp around outside your room made your blood freeze in your veins.

It wasn’t until 21:23, as you were just about to head to bed, that you heard a knock on your door. Even without your permission, it was opened, showcasing Valeria on the other side, seemingly having calmed down a bit. Leaning against the doorframe, she complimented your cooking. It was as delicious as it had always been, very well seasoned and very filling after all. You did nothing wrong, she, too, assured you of that. While she won’t go into detail regarding what exactly happened for her to snap at you like that, simply mentioning a few sleazebags who had caught up with her, you will hear something that only ever leaves her mouth when she’s wronged you for no good reason: an apology.

If you let her in, then she’s more than happy to try and comfort you. Yes, it’s a bit awkward since she’s not used to doing so, but seeing your eyes wide, your body tense, all because of her does take its toll on her. If you don’t wanna be touched just yet, that’s fine, she can respect that. But if you do allow it, then she’ll gently grab your hand and squeeze it a few times. She’s tired too, so she likely won’t be doing anything big with you anymore that night, but she’s open to making plans with you and discussing them. She really wants to right her wrongs when it comes to you, so you’re more than welcome to make a suggestion. You wanna have a picnic with her? She knows Las Almas quite well, some beautiful, undisturbed spots coming to mind almost immediately. You wanna go shopping? You can ask her for just about anything you want, she’ll give you extras to go this time too. You wanna stay in and watch a comfort movie? While she may not be one for watching movies, she will make an exception for you. She always does when she can.

Discussing those plans with you, she’ll try to make you smile at least a little bit. Once she’s sure you’re not afraid of her anymore, she’ll give your cheek a little kiss, joking around a bit more than she did before. She won’t bother you for the rest of the evening unless you explicitly seek her out, but she will keep an eye out for you, leaving you a few snacks right in front of your door. Maybe even some money so you can get yourself something fancy and nice. Problem is, she likely won’t have too much time, but she’ll be damned if she won’t take better care of you, if just temporarily. Even though she’ll always try her best to take care of you, it’s you we’re talking about, after all.

Farah: Another stressful day during the revolution. With an ambush surprising her, leaving her and her people a bit more vulnerable than usual, with her almost losing some of her best and closest fighters, it was only natural for Farah to be a bit more on edge than usual. Normally so calm, able to calculate the best moves and maneuvers for just about anything, no matter what happens, this was something she did not foresee at the time, thinking she had had the upper hand instead. It was only when she finally had the time, just a day or two, for you, mad as she usually never was, that she walked through the door, throwing her gun to the cabinet. Despite not being such a loud person, a sniper had to be quiet and patient, after all, she made quite a ruckus when she had finally returned. You were ready to greet Farah, give her a big smile and make her feel welcome and home as only you could. Soon enough, however, you did feel that something was off. Despite being stressed more often than not, she usually wouldn’t scowl at you like that for no reason.

You offered her a hug, opening your arms wide despite your expression betraying your nervousness. Aside from a glare, you got no reaction. Eventually, you put your arms down and she greeted you, venom spewing from her words. The toxins could corrode even the strongest iron walls, leaving you defenseless in your fear. Did you do something this time? Likely not, Farah just got home after all, but the thought still lingered. Although she was normally so chatty when she was just a bit exhausted, she stomped away, not saying a single word to you. First the bathroom, then the kitchen and lastly her bedroom. The clanking of cutlery against a plate could be heard, but that’s about it. You felt awful, something properly terrible must have happened to her for her to act like that. But it wasn’t like you could change it, so you lowered the volume of your TV instead before turning it off entirely and reading something on your phone.

Another few hours had passed, you barely even dared to move a muscle aside from scrolling on your phone, much less make any noise. What if it was you after all? What is Farah was about to leave you for something you didn’t even know about? Your thoughts spiraled, with every following one being worse than the previous one. You folded the blanket and put it on the arm of the couch, ready to head to bed when you bumped into her. Quickly, you uttered an apology before being ready to dart off to your own room, but Farah held you in place, asking you if you had a moment to spare and listen to her. It was dark already, with the dim artificial lights doing you no favors in seeing her any better either, but she sounded calmer than before. Still slightly annoyed, but it seemed like whatever had gotten into her had lessened its grasp on her. Tugging you onto the couch, she apologized for giving you such a harsh and cold treatment, simply figuring that waiting until she had calmed down would be better than letting it out on you, who had no part in it. The situation was dire for her, she told you a bit about it. About the ambush, about the people she’s almost lost during it. She knew that she really shouldn’t have been acting like that towards you, and for that she apologizes one last time.

Once she was done explaining what had upset her to you, she’d be quiet, remorseful, until you’d speak up again. She’d love to make it up to you, you really didn’t deserve such harsh treatment after all. If you just want a hug or a kiss as a form of apology, she’ll smile at you, being more than willing to give you just that. However, she will also ask you if that’s everything you wanted. That would be your chance to ask for something reasonable from her. Sure, she won’t be able to buy you a new car, but you’re more than welcome to ask her for some alone time, just the two of you. She might only have a day or two away from the fight, which she was going to spend with you either way since she rarely gets to see you, but if you have special requests, that would be the best time to suggest them. There may not be too many fancy restaurants or malls nearby, but you can always just watch a silly movie or take a walk together.

Farah would literally swear to you that she’s going to make it back in one piece to you. After all, there’s no one else she’d rather roam the streets with during a beautiful cloudless night. Besides, she made two promises that night: to make it back to you and to make it up to you. Farah would fight any deities out there to make it back to you, no matter if it was a losing battle or not. If it’s you then she’ll fight as dirty as possible to see you smile again.

Laswell: She was likely taken off a case, in spite of her having enough evidence to prove everything that needed to come to light. With her wit, with her having the right people at her disposal, she could have brought this to an end. However, her incompetent superior had other plans, letting it all rot in darkness instead, until everyone forgot it ever even happened. Laswell was furious, no matter how much she argued, her superior wouldn’t budge and for that she silently cursed. Normally so calm and composed, this time she wished she could have blown someone’s brain out for being the dumbest creature alive. But alas, such a thing was illegal, if someone ever were to find out. She entertains the idea for a few minutes, but quickly enough shakes her head, thinking of other ways to accomplish her goal. Walking through the door, she already heard you singing along to some tune, the music unnecessarily loud. You likely didn’t hear her come in, which in and of itself wouldn’t have been a problem. On any other day.

Only when she turns off the music do you realize she’s here. However, her grimace was already telling. Shyly, you greeted her, but not much else, letting her speak instead. The fury had gotten to her head, her face being slightly more red than usual. This time, she was stern, telling you that you really shouldn’t listen to your dumb music this loudly at such an hour. She was going to get a massive headache from today, if only because of you needing to turn up the volume impossibly high. While Laswell wouldn’t yell at you, her words would be sharper than an obsidian knife instead. Indeed, she’s not trying to actively hurt you, in fact, once her little lesson on you maybe being a bit more quiet is over, she’ll feel bad, apologizing immediately. It would take her much, much longer than that to actually calm down, but once she sees your scared, saddened expression, unable to really say much, she’ll say she’s sorry and let you go, watching you as you quietly trot away with your head hung low. Sighing to herself, she already comes up with plans on making it up to you, but she knows she can’t control her anger as she was right now.

A few hours later, you’d hear the bell ring, but not be quite ready to leave your room just yet. It likely was for Laswell, not for you, so you simply stayed put, hoping that she had calmed down a bit by then. However, your ears would perk up upon hearing her knock on your door, asking you to come to the living room so you could eat something together. Despite being a little bit skittish still, afraid to anger her further, you soon enough noticed she had calmed down again, with your favorite takeout from a restaurant you usually suggest lying on the table. Once seated, Laswell opened the packages, handing you your food. In a much more serene tone, she’d apologize yet again. Your music wasn’t dumb, it wasn’t giving her a headache, she just had a very rough day and needed some peace and quiet. Laswell hopes you can understand this, even if she did treat you unfairly. She recognizes that, and that she also tells you, with her promising to try her best to not have it happen again.

Laswell won’t go into detail either regarding what happened, for obvious reasons, only that some inconvenience happened today, which upset her a great deal. But that wasn’t what was important at that moment. She was calm, hopefully you were as well. And if not, then she’d try her darndest to make it that way. Considering she, technically speaking, had more time that day, and the following ones as well, she’d be the one to suggest going out the next evening. Maybe a nice and fancy restaurant, maybe a show like a musical at the broadway. Or maybe the two of you just want to take a vacation somewhere nearby. Either way, Laswell has plans for the two of you, having brainstormed a few in the past few hours. She’ll get her way at work eventually, it just might take some time, so she’ll happily “indulge” her superior for a few days before going back to crack the case either way. It would make her all the less suspicious. Besides, she’d get to spend time with you as well, even if all you wanted was to just go window shopping at the local mall.

That evening, she’d likely just want to watch TV with you, continuing to discuss your plans for the next few days. But after that she’s more than happy to book whatever it is you want to do afterwards. While she might not be the biggest fan of such, she will even go to the nearest Six Flags with you and ride a few attractions just to see you smile and hear your laughter, as well as excited screams, yet again.

[chiisana-lion]

aizou is just soooo. boy who has had his views on love as a whole incredibly warped by his cheating estranged father and neglectful mother and (albeit guilty) brother who once abandoned him in that suffocating environment alone and yet still has so much love in his heart for them regardless

hahaoyatte especially really does convey his character and feelings regarding his mother better than any previous adaptation did. because really thats the core of it all!! thats why he wanted to sing in the first place!!! it had made his family smile Of Course thats all he knew how to do when yuko finally broke and while the trauma caused by her outburst at him cant be ignored you really have to understand even so. as unfair as it is even now he truly deeply loves her and wishes her well and always has been/will be important to him.

where do i even start with him towards yuujirou too. the guy who wanted to be acknowledged so badly finally being needed in turn. the one who truly revived his song again! the one who reminded me of the fun and why in the first place he sang at all!! hes always just a bit out of reach but inevitably there for him in arm's distance in the end. its no wonder yuujirous eventually become the one most precious to him who really taught him what its like to love someone. i fear only one person has ever truly understood me and i fucking hate the guy sort of situation for real. and he looks at him like this

[jessamine-rose]

*lovingly tackles Aine*

Read my Yandere! Pierro longfics first ♪( ´▽｀)

Last week, my beloved mutual @ainescribe surprised me with Savior! Darling fan art and AHAI9232@2-!/! CRYING SCREAMING I WANT TO LOOK AT THIS ART AND WORSHIP YOUR VERSION OF SAVIOR THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH YOUR ART—

*clears throat* Anyway, now that I finally have the time to properly sit down and comment on the fan art, I’ll do just that. Feedback will be in the tags and it will be unhinged. Once again, thank you so much to Aine for drawing this <3

[good-beanswrites]

Remembering how Futa said in one timeline that there’s no way a woman could beat a man in a fight and got his ass beat. Can you do a crackfic of the girls beating him up for that?

Ahahaha thank you for the request!! This was really fun to write omg -- and well deserved, there was no need for all that in the timeline convo 😤 He was too busy thinking of leverages and forms he failed to consider the fury of a woman scorned..... may he rest in peace......

Fuuta didn’t even know what he did to earn himself an ass-beating.

“Oh, you know what you did,” Yuno said. She closed the cell door behind her. 

Whatever it was, it had managed to anger every woman on the premises. He thought it took a lot to get girls riled up this much – something like cheating on them or calling them names, you know? But without a single action on his part, he found himself facing Yuno, Muu, and Amane. All three had a fire in their eyes that Fuuta was not liking the look of. 

Mahiru had pointed him to his cell, saying Es was looking for him there. She spoke strangely as she did it, and waited awkwardly outside as he went in, but everyone around here was a little odd. How was he supposed to distinguish when people were being murderer-in-a-supernatural-prison weird from setting-a-trap-to-corner-him-in-his-cell weird?

He waved his palms in front of him. “Listen, listen! Let’s just talk, okay? Let’s slow down.”

Muu cracked her knuckles.

Amane began rolling up her sleeves in perfect creases. “You have doubted our abilities. We will make you a believer.”

Fuuta took a few steps back. His voice came out loud and frantic. “What are you talking about? If you’re looking to pick a fight, you better think twice, because I’m not gonna hit a girl or anything.”

“Oh, good!” Yuno’s voice was as bubbly as always as the three closed in. “That will make our job a lot easier.”

He felt his back hit the wall. “I mean it, let’s just talk about this for a sec! Hey!”

Mikoto’s voice came from outside the cell. 

“Mappi? What’s going on in there?”

“Yes!” Fuuta called, “Mikoto! Help! They’re gonna kill me in here!”

“Oh, no need to worry~ The girls are just teaching him a little lesson about not saying awful things.”

“Isn’t this going a bit too far…? What did he even say?”

“Nothing! Come on, get me the fuck outta here!”

“I believe his exact words were, ‘there’s no way a girl could win in a fight against a man.’”

Fuuta paled. He did say that, didn't he...

“Oh crap. Yeah, that’d do it. Carry on.”

“Wha–? Mikoto!” 

He gaped at the three in front of him. 

He remembered a hero in a video game who had faced off against an unbeatable foe; a glorious knight who came to understand that he could never conquer the world-razing dragon before him. After giving his all, and seeing his fate was sealed, the hero had no choice. In a manly show of valor, he’d lifted his chin, closed his eyes, and accepted his impending, gory death.  

Yuno's gaze was cold as she raised her arms. Muu had a hungry look in her eyes. Amane clenched her fists, her posture perfect.

It wasn’t a dragon, but Fuuta would argue this was a good deal more dangerous. He lifted his chin and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Get ‘em, girls!”

—

Kotoko approached just as the other girls filed out of Fuuta’s cell. They had giddy looks on their faces. They giggled and whispered in a huddle as they walked around the panopticon. 

“Wow, Muu!”

“Haha, I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“That felt amazing…”

Kotoko didn’t know what kind of game they were all playing in there, but Fuuta was in for a big surprise now. The fun was over. Today was the day she acted out her responsibilities as Es’ fang. Today was the day she delivered justice. 

She swung the cell door open. Her eyebrows shot up. 

Her head whipped around to take a look at the girls, still complementing one another and laughing lightly.

Hell, her work here was already done.

[the-void-via]

Hello everyone! I have something today- something important to me.

I've decided to try and raise some money for my girlfriend, who is a trans women (pre-HRT and pre-medical transition), for her HRT and transition surgery, as a surprise for her when she's able to transition.

She's the sweetest woman I've ever met and I absolutely lover her to death. She's always been there for me when I'm struggling and I will always appreciate her for that.

I'm not sure what financial situation we'll be in when she's able to safely transition, so I wanted to get the jump on getting money for it. If anyone can donate, please consider. I won't guilt anyone, if you're saving your money for something, that's absolutely okay!

And please, please reblog this and share it if you can. I appreciate every single one of you who donates or shares, and I'm sure my girlfriend will, too.

Here's the link to the GoFundMe

If you can donate, I'd very much appreciate it! Thank you to everyone who does!! I love you all!!!

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

I see your tags on the Wocky and Alita art, I would love to hear your thoughts on Alita actually!

I only need one person to show interest in what I have to say for me to talk forever and ever, thank you. HAHA Okay, in seriousness, this won't be as thorough/long as the Klavier post because... there really isn't much to her, but I find it extremely interesting how Alita falls into the same category of witnesses as April May and Dahlia without being — and I mean no offence to her when I say this — stunning? Like, with April and Dahlia, there's a very clear mass appeal to them which most people point out. Contrariwise, Alita's appearance is really only commented on by Trucy, and just glancing at her portrait, you can see that, without her slightly outlandish fashion, she's frankly nothing to write home about.

So why am I discussing this? Surely it's a little reductive to analyse female characters beginning with their appearances? Usually, yes, but that's the thing about this category of witnesses: their pretty faces aren't just pretty faces.

For April and Dahlia, their beauty is part of their arsenal. It functions as both their defence and their weapon of choice; they know how to wield it to bring people under their heel. Alita being ordinarily pretty instead of drop-dead gorgeous deprives her of that weapon and leads you to wonder how she became a mafia heiress to begin with. It also parallels her to Mimi Miney in a way that goes beyond the 'murderous nurse who worked for and killed her awful boss' comparison you get on the surface. Presumably, Alita, like Mimi, only got to where she was because she managed to fool the people around her into believing she was less dangerous than she actually is. Mimi did this by feigning stupidity and inviting people to underestimate her. Alita seems to do this by showing them what they want to see.

When she first meets Apollo and Trucy, Alita stays quiet and spends more time listening to them than she does talking. Once she has a hold on who they are, then she slips into her persona, and I find it interesting how she doesn't even attempt to come across as particularly delicate or lovelorn? Instead she goes for the relatively typical role of a distressed, indulgent loved one earnestly entreating Apollo for help. I'm inclined to say she does this because her read on Apollo makes her realise that he'd likely be exasperated or annoyed by such a person; but it's also almost as if she knows she doesn't have the disposition to pull off that frail, damsel-in-distress archetype and has resigned herself to being ordinary. Like how she looks. The next time she has to reapply her persona, Alita's appearing in court, and again she makes subtle adjustments that best suit her situation. The judge is old, so she takes a chance on expressing her dedication as a wife while balancing her dedication as a righteous citizen, which works. But oddly enough, despite her successes, I don't think Alita is actually good? At donning disguises? Everyone I've seen discuss this case has been able to guess almost immediately that she's the culprit, and maybe we're just prepped by past characters like her that have appeared, but I don't think she's even that convincing in the game.

Both the identities she assumes are risky manoeuvres that happen to fall in her favour, and she's not particularly dedicated to maintaining the front. When she asks Apollo to be Wocky's defence, she admits that marrying him is largely a chance at a more exciting life than some great love story; Plum Kitaki straight up says that there's a darkness in Alita she doesn't like, despite how docile Alita behaves in front of her; and Wocky has moments where he slips up and calls her things like, "imposter" and "fallen angel", implying that at least subconsciously, he knows she's not what she makes herself out to be. Even her general mannerisms don't greatly differ between her actual self and the mask who's blunt her claws — nothing is ever overtly coy or cutesy — and when Apollo brings up the fact she was Wocky's nurse, she drops the facade almost immediately. There's no waffling, no, "Whatever do you mean?"s or, "You're scaring me"s, just the statement, "I don't know what you mean by 'meaning', Mr. Justice!" delivered in a sudden cool, frosted steeliness.

And I think that steel is what really makes her different.

See, the other women are all driven to crime by some defining trait in themselves caused by their circumstances. For Dahlia, it's her desperate need to be free of the Fey clan; for Mimi, it's grief over her sister's unjust death; and for April, it's her fear of Redd White. You don't really get that with Alita. Instead of there being something dark in her life that leads her down this path, she just seems... tired. Tired of being "pretty enough" but not "gorgeous", tired of being the obedient nurse to the corrupt doctor, tired of being ordinary. There's no predatory external force pushing her into a corner, there's no abusive family beliefs pinning her down. There's just an ordinary life, lived dull and ordinarily, and she had had enough. So what does this girl, who's tired and ordinary in every way except the steel that lines her spine, do to get out of this?

She gambles.

Marrying into the mafia was a gamble, seeking Apollo as council was a gamble, shooting Dr. Meraktis was a gamble. Every decision she's made since she met Wocky has been a series of high-stakes gambles that leave her life on the line all so she won't be second-best anymore. This time, she was going to be the one on top. No matter what.

... And I'm sorry for loving evil women, but girlboss?? Girlboss???

I've heard people say they're disappointed that her "breakdown" is just an extension of her usual damage sprite, but it's honestly one of my favourite "breakdowns" in the series ever? Just because it isn't really one? Everything Alita has done up till now has been reckless, calculated risk, of course being convicted for murder is no different than losing in any other aspect of her life. Of course you're not going to get more than her damaged sprite, because this doesn't warrant a more dramatic reaction. She's lived this whole time knowing it could all come crashing down around her, and it finally did.

She made a bad bet. You caught her. Oh well.

The frosted girl of steel, standing tall to the very end. It's kind of sad that, even after all that, she's still seen as only second-best, incomparable to mimi, dahlia or any of the other women who've stood in her place.

[eerna]

first time watching I was like "uuughhhhh WHY are we ONCE AGAIN equating sex to being human :///" only to then be stabbed through the heart an episode later

[ladybeug]

Went to Taylor swift tonight, and 3 people gave me bracelets - even though I didn’t have any to trade!!

Sharing this bc I am touched by the kindness of the Taylor swift community and I hope the 2 teens and woman in mcmenamins know they made my day so much better!!!

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[lilyoffandoms]

Detective Emma Rose

Part of an art/fic exchange with the loveliest @thosehallowedhalls (see the absolutely stellar fic she wrote for my Trystan x Gabriel here!!! I’m totally normal about the fic I promise and definitely wont be reblogging it every hour on the hour 🤫).

My Art ish Tag: @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma