#...if people see women and children as functionally the same...

[uncanny-tranny]

This might be a half-baked theory, but I wonder how much of the "think of the children!!" ideals that are almost... aimed at women rely on the idea of women as Forever Children.

What I notice is that a lot of these ideas of corruption in youth are feminized in a way that evokes motherhood, but I also notice that many people blur the lines between women or anybody forced into or expected to be women and children so that they are as one.

#politics #feminism #the idea of women being essentially children with the bodies of adult is something that's age-old #but i notice it still as something that's... subtler sometimes #such as the 'think of the children!' for the ~case~ of trans people existing i sometimes notice that people... #...subtly start including women in that 'think of the children!!!!!!!' line and it makes me wonder... #...if people see women and children as functionally the same... #again maybe this is half-baked or i think too much about this but. hm. yknow. #alright i guess... back to doing my crochet project and playing video games instead of studying 👍

[thehmn]

I’m intersex and I’m very hesitant to make this post because it could very quickly turn into a shitshow if I don’t word my thoughts correctly, but I’ve noticed a small, slowly growing trend and I think it’s important to talk about this before it gets out of hand.

I’ve seen a couple of posts with a lot of likes and reblogs where trans people accuse intersex people of being transphobic when they want hormonal treatment or surgery for themselves to look more female or male. It’s never about forced surgery on intersex children, but specifically about adult intersex people who want treatment for themselves. In these posts people see it as subconscious transphobia because they think this mindset is supporting the gender binary and harms trans and nonbinary people who technically get intersex bodies once they start to transition with hormones and surgeries. In their eyes not only are intersex people who use hormones/surgery to visually get out of the intersex sphere abandoning trans people, they’re also working agains nonbinary people who use intersex people as proof that there are more than two sexes which justify the existence of more than two genders.

The fact that there are a lot of similarities between trans and intersex people should be obvious. Both groups are saddled with bodies that doesn’t necessarily represent their gender and both can experience severe body dysmorphia, but at the end of the day the biggest difference is that the bodies of intersex people change on their own.

If you’re trans, imagine if you were assigned your preferred gender at birth and was perfectly content and happy in your gender experience when you suddenly hit puberty and start developing sex characteristics that goes against your gender and suddenly people around you start telling you you’re not actually the gender you think you are. Basically, imagine the way you felt before you came out/transitioned, except reversed.

I can for the life of me not understand why a trans person who thinks hormones and surgeries are acceptable for trans people can’t extend that mindset to intersex people.

It’s an ongoing debate among intersex people wether we belong in queer spaces and I can see both sides. A lot of intersex people consider themselves cishet people with a birth deformity who aren’t any more queer than people with dwarfism. Other intersex people feel more at home in queer spaces because there’s generally more acceptance of people who fall outside the norm.

But at the same time, in my experience, you get a lot of the same questions in both spaces. Both queer and cishet people often assume intersex means nonbinary, and I’ve been asked more than once how intersex people can call themselves cis or trans when their bodies fall outside the two majority sexes, forgetting that it’s all about what gender you were assigned at birth.

This leads to situations where you’ll meet trans men with functioning penises and trans women with natural breasts. A child might be born with something that looks like a vagina with a big clitoris and be assigned female but once they hit puberty the big clitoris becomes a small penis.

And even if they’re trans and start developing sex characteristics more in line with their true gender they might not be ready for it yet. As a teenager you become a target if you stand out so if you’re a trans girl living as a boy and you suddenly develop breasts that can be horrifying.

I personally experienced a much milder version of this. As a child I was perfectly content with people calling me a girl but I also felt like a different kind of girl. Not in a “not like the other girls” or tomboy way. More like a girl with something else in the mix. It was a very physical feeling because I was naturally stronger and more boyish looking than other girls and I didn’t really feel like I fit in with either boys or girls but at the same time it didn’t bother me when I was grouped in with the girls during school activities. I’d play around with makeup in my room, giving myself a beard and chest hair without wanting to be a man. It just felt like the right mix. Then I hit puberty for real and developed breasts and hips but also a full beard and chest hair. Despite all the times I had done it to myself I was mortified. This wasn’t something I could take off. I stood out wether I wanted to or not. Shaving left me with stubble. People looked. People commented on it. And my breasts didn’t grow super big and a lot of my body fat sat on my stomach like on a man, which meant if I didn’t wear a very flattering bra and feminine clothes I was sometimes mistaken for a chubby guy with manboobs. I was NOT ready for that. I was already struggling to fit in at a new school so this was like a social death sentence, not to mention I wasn’t sure about my own gender yet. It was something I should be allowed to work out on my own in peace when I was ready for it without people constantly asking what I, a child, had in my pants.

So hormones was a gift that allowed me to “transition” when I was ready for it at a later age. I’m off those hormones now and live as a “woman with something extra” like I always knew I was, but the things I had to go through as a child makes me very sympathetic to intersex people who does not feel that way and just want to be a man or woman with nothing extra because that’s their gender and like everyone else they want their gender and gender expression to align.

I don’t think it’s fair to expect people to be a martyr for other people. Most intersex people think trans rights are important but that doesn’t necessarily mean they belong in that debate. I know a lot of trans people who think women’s rights are important but feel no obligation to help the cause by sharing their experience of what it was like living as one gender and then another and how much respect and dignity they gained or lost after they transitioned.

So while I understand the natural instinct of wanting intersex people be part of a lager cause I also think it’s unfair to call intersex people who want to look like their preferred gender transphobic.

I really hope I made myself understood and that this isn’t an angry post. I just saw this “intersex people are transphobic for taking hormones” opinion with little to no understanding of the intersex experience and I’m hoping to shed a bit of light on that ❤️

#long post #very long post #intersex #trans

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (23)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, manipulation, blackmailing and threats ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Alys had always known that, like any bastard child, she could only rely on herself. Her existence was merely an unfortunate accident to her father and brothers, with which they nevertheless came to terms, and she, in their minds, should be grateful for being allowed to stay and serve in Harrenhal.

Indeed, she never considered herself to have been significantly harmed by fate.

Compared to women who had to sell their bodies for money in order to survive, her function as herbalist and wet nurse completely satisfied her.

Milk filled her breasts along with the baby that one of the guards had put inside her. When he pressed her against the wall and lifted her gown, panting that he had desired her for a long time she did not stand up to him, even helping him by bending over and spreading the folds of her womanhood before him so that he could more easily hit the right spot with the thick tip of his length.

This particular man never aroused her desire, however, he supervised her chambers, and since she allowed him to enjoy the pleasures of her body, he closed his eyes to when and where she went out, giving her more freedom.

His wife, however, was not comforted by the fact that her husband had a mistress.

She could not conclude that her husband was a good lover; his hands only clenched greedily on her firm breasts, his thrusts violent, fast and deep. She knew that as he chased his fulfilment hissing that he would fill her with his seed, it did not even cross his mind to touch her between her thighs or ask what would give her pleasure.

She did not, however, resent him.

She recognised that this was how men were.

Although she tried not to think about it, the sight of his wife, one of her father's servants, filled her with remorse, for although she knew that this woman did not love him, she humiliated her every time she took away what belonged to her.

She had nothing to justify it, but she knew that if she told him to stop she would arouse his anger and his behaviour towards her would change.

He might want to take revenge on her for rejecting him.

She couldn't allow this to happen.

What he didn't know was that he wasn't the only man she allowed to sink between her thighs for the benefit; it was easier and sometimes even more enjoyable than trying to bribe them with money, which she didn't have much of anyway. What she was able to do perfectly was to observe people from the sidelines − their reactions and desires, coming to her own conclusions about what they needed and wanted.

Usually these men wanted not only sensation and elation, but also reassurance, a warm word and understanding; they lay with their faces cuddled between her breasts, muttering for her to stroke their heads, and she did so, allowing them to turn from men into innocent children for a moment.

The women in the fortress began to whisper among themselves that the ease with which she seduced men and with which she maintained her beauty despite her age was due to the fact that she was a witch.

She smiled piteously as she strolled through the corridors of the fortress, overhearing their conversations from afar, hearing about the potions she gave to poor, unaware men so they could not forget her, that she bathed in milk and blood to keep her face young and bright.

She did not deny the accusations, because she derived satisfaction from the fact that they feared and avoided her.

Fear, however, also tended to provoke interest and curiosity, and the young, newly arrived servants who were just learning their trade could not tell what they thought of her.

When she needed a break from the men's sweat and their aggressive, deep thrusts she sought peace and solace in the arms of young girls, much more gentle and understanding when it came to the nature of female fulfilment, their sweet moans and surprised expressions as she caressed them made her feel a pleasant pulsation between her thighs.

Although the prospect of becoming a mother did not fill her with particular joy, when she woke up one morning, feeling a pool of wetness under her thighs and saw blood, the squeeze in her throat and the tears she felt under her eyelids were proof that some part of her hoped she could love this innocent creature that was growing inside her womb.

This did not happen, however, and she, not wanting to waste her milk, from which her breasts had already swollen, decided to feed the children whose mothers had too little nourishment.

She considered her life quite prosperous and peaceful until her father and half-brother died in a fire.

Until Larys became the Lord of Harrenhal.

Everyone, including her, feared him.

He was like a writhing viper, tightening slowly around the necks of those who aroused his suspicions, his gaze black and completely blank, as if he experienced nothing, felt nothing inside himself.

He could not be seduced, appeased, pleaded with, persuaded.

He was like a stone, merciless, cruel, taking satisfaction in domination and power.

She never got in his way.

One evening, however, he summoned her to his chamber, and she feared what he desired.

When she stepped inside he was sitting at the table, having just eaten his evening meal. He smiled slightly at her in a way that made her feel the cold sweat on her back; his eyes remained indifferent, glowing mischievously in the firelight.

"Sit down, sister. I wish to discuss something with you." He said softly, and she swallowed hard, keeping an indifferent, satisfied face, looking at him from under half-closed eyelids. She sat down opposite him in one of the chairs, spreading out comfortably in her seat, sighing quietly and nodded for him to speak.

"We will have guests of honour. Prince Aemond and his wife will be arriving here within two days to spend the night here and then head off the next morning to meet Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon." He said calmly, putting a few pieces of cake from the tray onto his plate, with a hand gesture he encouraged her to eat as well, but she shook her head, analysing his words quickly.

She had heard of them.

Prince Aemond had married and taken his niece's maidenhood on the same night he chose Maris Baratheon as his wife.

His brother the King, to save the situation, married them in the eyes of the Seven before an enraged Borros Baratheon could arrive in King's Landing demanding justice.

There would not have been all the commotion if Prince Aemond had taken her as his second wife, but he clearly only wished to have one, therefore, Maris was sent away with only a dowry and humiliation.

Her half-brother continued, seeing the lack of response on her part.

"I want you to host them well. Both of them, if you understand what I have in mind. Myself and his grandfather do not believe in the success of their mission. Like most of the kingdom we know how it will end: with a war. A war we wish to win. However, our Prince, if I may say so, does not think with his mind now, but rather with what he has between his thighs. He gives in to his wife and her persuasions to bring about a reconciliation. I know you are well acquainted with human nature and will surely win both her trust and his heart."

She chuckled under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked at her fingers, trying to hide the horror and squeeze in her stomach she felt.

He wanted to expose her, to put her head under the Prince's sword if it turned out that her attempts would only enrage him, and he could wash his hands of everything.

"In any case, in a few days' time the matter of the succession will resolve itself with the help of my birds in the Eyrie. They know what to do. Of course, I'll let our Prince believe that his decision matters, however, everything is already arranged. I hope this should settle the matter. With the help of the gods, the girl might try to take her own life for the second time. Let us raise our cups for that." He said lightly, as if indeed such a course of events would please him the most; she looked at him in disbelief, thinking that she had not even noticed when he had become such a disgusting creature.

A monster that, like a black, empty hole, was consuming everything around him, destroying it and crushing it.

She wasn't in a position to refuse, and he knew it.

That was why she walked out with him to greet their guests, thinking she would simply do what he ordered her to do.

She blinked as the figure of a petite, pretty girl jumped down from the shimmering blue and silver dragon, her long, dark hair of a shade similar to hers tied into a braid, its unruly strands dishevelled by the long journey through the skies.

She stepped out in front of them, breathing heavily, her eyes big, full of curiosity and uncertainty, her gaze warm, kind, her cheeks all flushed from exertion. She stopped in front of them and forced herself into an innocent, almost childlike smile, from which she felt a squeeze in her gut.

Gods, have mercy.

"My Lady. What a joy." Said her brother. The girl blinked, not knowing for a moment what to answer, shifting from foot to foot.

"My Lord Strong. Thank you for being willing to host us." She muttered at last, clearly tense − her was voice pleasant, melodious, soft, the kind that gives comfort with ease, brings peace of mind.

They all turned their faces towards the approaching figure as they heard his footsteps; Prince Aemond in his long black leather coat and black eye patch indeed looked like someone menacing, commanding, as powerful as the great dragon he was riding.

What immediately caught her attention was that as his gaze traveled over their faces he stopped at his wife, assessing her figure from afar as if quickly examining whether she had suffered any damage after such a long journey and whether she was well.

He must have evidently concluded that she was, for his gaze turned after a moment towards her brother.

"Lord Strong. Take us to our quarters."

The Prince and her brother moved first, followed by his wife, looking around the interior of their fortress with genuine curiosity, not even listening to what her brother was saying.

She didn't even notice that her uncle was glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, checking that she was near and in no danger.

She thought he would sooner stab her in the heart than take her to his bed.

Her brother opened the door of the chamber that had been prepared for him, the largest in the entire fortress, not coincidentally located close to hers. The Prince, however, did not look impressed; his lips pressed into a thin line in disapproval when he heard that Lord Strong had assigned his wife other quarters.

"No need. My wife will spend the night in my chamber." He said coolly, as if the very suggestion was offensive and insulting to him.

He had kept her with him the whole time, she thought in disbelief, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the girl standing next to her.

She stood, gazing at her uncle as if she were looking at a statue of one of the gods; her bright, shining eyes large and filled with affection, devotion, longing, even though, after all, he was standing in front of her, at her fingertips.

She realised, swallowing quietly, that he had not taken her by force the night he married her or any night after.

How long had they looked at each other like this?

"As you wish, my Prince. However, I will leave the rooms I spoke of at your wife's disposal for her own convenience. I have also assigned her a servant to ensure that while we men are conversing, she will have company. There are several matters I would like to discuss with you." Her brother replied.

Prince Aemond then looked at his niece with a gaze as if he was about to explode − his wife pressed her lips into a thin line, immediately understanding what the expression on his face was meant to convey to her, her look of understanding and sigh was meant to add to his patience.

His gaze softened and after a moment he nodded, letting her go.

The girl looked at her, so she smiled quickly and pointed with her hand the way they should go to her quarters. Before moving behind her she looked at her husband, the Prince leading her away with a cold, sharp gaze.

Overwhelmed by this revelation, no longer knowing herself what she thought of it or what she should do in such a situation, she simply followed her into the room, closing the door behind her. She watched quietly as the prince's wife walked to the window, placing her hand on the glass, and smiled slightly, noticing something outside.

Had she been like this all the time?

"Do you desire to change into something…more comfortable, My Lady?" She asked finally, recognising that she needed to start any light conversation, to try and understand who was standing in front of her.

The girl shuddered and blinked, as if forgetting her presence for a moment, turning to face her. She nodded, forcing herself to smile, unsure and embarrassed, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous reflex.

"Yes. What do they call you?" She asked lightly and kindly, willingly shortening the distance between them, which surprised her.

Usually women of her ilk took satisfaction in calling her Lady Rivers, reminding her every time that she was a bastard.

But she, even if she was married to the Prince, was also one.

She was her relative, her brother's daughter.

She swallowed hard at that thought, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

"Alys, my Lady."

She lowered her gaze, as if pondering something for a moment, and then her bright eyes looked at her again.

She thought with pain that she was like a small flower, a daisy or a forget-me-not, which one picked to weave into one's hair, to feel as innocent as a little child again.

"I would not wish to… misunderstand who you are and what you have in common with Lord Strong, Alys." She muttered with some sort of embarrassment, from which she involuntarily burst out laughing.

Good gods.

"I am not his mistress. I am his relative, though I do not bear his name, as any bastard would." She said softly, amused; her gaze shifted, her brow furrowed in concern and curiosity.

She knew what she was going to ask her, she could feel it in her bones.

"Did you know my father?"

She named him as her father even though she was officially Laenor Velaryon's daughter.

She admitted to her that she too was a bastard without a grimace of embarrassment.

"Yes, my Lady."

Her whole body tensed, her hands clenched into fists.

"His death wasn't an unfortunate ordeal, was it?" She asked in a trembling voice, and her lips involuntarily lifted in a dangerous smirk at the thought that her directness was surprising her.

Was this how she spoke to her husband?

Was this how she forced her way into his heart?

"There are no such thing as unfortunate ordeals, my Lady."

A silence fell between them filled with the weight of their words and what they meant; she licked her lips involuntarily, feeling that she was incapable of denying herself the pleasure of having to see her reaction to her words.

To see if she was right.

"After the word has reached us here all the way from King's Landing, I have been looking forward to our meeting with impatience, and while I will admit that it is not what I expected, I am beginning to understand your husband's desperation." She said with amusement, feeling a tingle in her fingertips and in her lower abdomen at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

"What do you mean?" She mumbled quietly, embarrassed; however, it was not shame feigned and exalted, but more an expression of genuine surprise and excitement at her words.

"Men are easily driven to desperation, though it usually takes time. They like to gain and take pride in what they have conquered; the greater, in their mind, the value of what they enclose in their embrace, the less they are willing to let it go." She said calmly, turning her head away, immersed in her own thoughts.

"Your husband follows you with his thoughts even when he is not looking at you. His head, even when he is not speaking to you, is directed towards you so that he can see you out of the corner of his eye. When he feels discomfort, he involuntarily seeks your face to experience understanding and comfort."

She looked at her, wanting to see her reaction, and sighed almost imperceptibly, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the sight of her parted, plump lips, her dreamy, hot gaze.

She knew that she had felt something at her words, that it had taken deep root in her heart and made her return with her thoughts to her husband.

Was this how she had looked at him when he made love to her?

She could not imagine that he could take her maidenhood brutally and cruelly, that he would allow her to cry beneath him in pain.

No, she thought − he surely took her with slow, lazy thrusts of his hips, letting her get used to his shape deep inside her, assuring her in a whisper that just a little more.

She felt a strong throbbing and tickling between her thighs at that thought and licked her lips, looking up at her again − her gaze lowered meekly to the stone floor, a soft, thoughtful smile on her face.

She decided on second thought, helping her change into one of her gowns, touching her soft skin, smelling the wonderful scent of vanilla in her nostrils, that she would braid the most elaborate hairstyle she could think of on her head, just so she wouldn't have to leave her chamber before supper.

She knew that her half-brother expected her to then take the opportunity to venture into the Prince's chambers to make sure he was not missing anything.

Therefore, she began to braid her soft, long, dark hair, creating a beautiful, complicated hairstyle surrounding her head.

She escorted her to the proper quarters and bowed, Larys gave her one impatient look.

She felt a cold sweat on her back, leaving immediately.

He was not pleased.

She thanked the gods that the Prince's wife had summoned her herself, wishing her help with her bath, giving her another reason not to head to her husband's chambers.

She thought that if she went on like this perhaps the situation would work out in such a way that she simply wouldn't have the opportunity to do anything, though even if she did she wasn't sure Larys would believe her.

As she walked into her chamber she saw that she herself was trying to untie her bodice, so she approached her, undoing the tangles with ease, looking at her face with curiosity.

"Was the Prince pleased with his wife's appearance, my Lady?" She asked softly, noticing from the corner of her eye that the girl had lowered her gaze, ashamed and saddened.

"Yes. Though he expressed his opinion that he prefers it when my hair is loose." She said with resignation, and she couldn't stop the smile that appeared on her face.

Of course, she thought.

The sight of her loose hair reminded him fondly of how it had been spread in disarray around her head, shining in the darkness of his chamber as he fucked her greedily.

"Oh, that's understandable. He surely associates it with your intimacy and closeness, as any man would. The entwined curls and braids are for those around you, meanwhile the softness of your hair, the smell of them, the sight of them spread on the bed is something meant only for him." She replied lightly, for some reason wanting to lift her spirits and comfort her; she heard her move in place, the sweet blush appearing on her cheeks again.

She was embarrassed, she thought with disbelief and tenderness, as if she were looking at a small child.

She was so innocent.

Was that what attracted him to her?

The idea that he was surrounding her with himself like a dark cloak, devouring her again and again?

"You know a lot about men…don't you?" She heard her uncertain, curious voice; she looked at her in the reflection of the mirror, noticing that she immediately lowered her gaze, as if she could not bear the intensity with which he was looking at her.

"Yes, my Lady."

"Have you seduced many yet?" She asked intrigued, and she smiled again involuntarily.

"Yes."

When her gown finally fell to the floor she saw her girlish, pleasing curves peeking through from under her nightgown. She watched as, with a light, confident step, she walked over to the bath and bore herself into the hot water, tilting her head back, sighing in relief, her head still adorned with the braids she had woven herself.

Such a pretty little thing.

"I would like to … make my husband happy tonight. I know he needs relief from what's about to happen tomorrow. However, I can't do it, at least for now, in the way I usually do." She mumbled out at last, looking at her with those big, warm eyes of hers, seeing in her apparently her guide, someone who could help her with these complicated and intimate matters.

She felt a pleasant squeeze in her lower abdomen at the idea that popped into her head.

"The easiest thing to do in that case would be for you to use your mouth." She replied amused, drawing out of her exactly the reaction she wanted − her cheeks turned scarlet, her gaze fled downwards, her tiny long fingers clenched into small fists.

She was wonderfully embarrassed, so sweet that he would have gladly shown her everything, step by step.

"I'm…inexperienced in these matters." She confessed with shame, and she involuntarily licked her lower lip with her tongue, feeling the throbbing between her thighs at her words, her nipples hardening under the material of her gown.

Gods.

"I see." She muttered, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad as she moved slowly towards her, her surprised gaze lifting to her as she knelt right next to her tub, cupping her wrist in her hand.

Her skin was as soft as silk.

Her gaze escaped involuntarily to her breasts, now perfectly visible through the wet material of her shirt clinging to her bare flesh; she felt a tickle in her swollen lips at the thought that she longed to lick and caress them.

She was sure that as he teased and sucked her nipples she moaned sweetly beneath him, begging for more, and he always, always gave in to her.

Because how could he refuse her?

"I can show you how you should do it, if that's what you wish, my Lady."

She saw her pupils dilate in disbelief, her lips parted as she swallowed hard, her chest beginning to rise and fall in accelerated breaths.

"…How?"

She couldn't stop the smirk that appeared on her lips, nor what she did next.

She heard her sigh quietly, surprised and thrilled when her lips ran over her pointing finger, enveloping her skin with her hot breath.

"Imagine that this is his manhood. Men don't say it out loud because pride won't let them, but they adore it when a woman shows them with gentle, tender caresses." She whispered, running her swollen lips up and down her finger leaving a sticky, warm trail of her saliva on it, surprised at how wet it made her between her thighs, how wonderfully arousing it was, how obscene it was.

She heard her draw in a deep breath without moving away, but as she guided the tip of her finger between her lips, teasing and licking it lightly with her tongue, out of the corner of her eye she noticed that her thighs clenched in some helpless, subconscious reflex.

What other reactions could she draw from her?

"− and then − when he begins breathing faster − when you feel he's completely ready −" She sighed quietly as she suddenly slipped her whole finger deep into her mouth, feeling her swollen folds pulsate hard again and again as she began to suck it in slow, steady movements with the quiet click of her saliva.

She heard her gasp on the verge of a moan as her tongue began to trail over her skin with her low murmur of satisfaction, her free hand involuntarily sliding down to the material of her gown, wanting to slip under it and bring herself to fulfilment with her own touch.

She slipped her finger out of her mouth with a loud plop and looked up at her − her face all flushed, her gaze dreamy, hesitant and warm, as if she herself didn't know what she felt or why.

Something in her gaze made a pleasurable heat spill over her lower abdomen as she dug her own fingers into her fleshy folds, all sticky with her moisture, pulsing aggressively with her every stroke in pleasure.

"− you pretty little thing − it’s usually him taking care of you, isn’t it? − he can’t deny himself − I can’t blame him −" She whispered, trying not to move her hips so that she wouldn't notice anything; she lost the battle with herself as she felt herself getting closer and closer to fulfilment, pushing against her own slit with the tips of her fingers.

Unfortunately, it turned out that her husband was more vigilant than she thought.

When he burst into his wife's chamber she barely had time to remove her hand from under her own skirt and let go of her, standing quickly and bowing before him.

"My Prince."

"− get out −" He growled, and she walked out obediently, grateful in spirit to the gods that he hadn't stopped her to question her, that he hadn't noticed the glistening wetness on her fingers.

Or he saw it and it infuriated him, she thought with amusement, feeling her heart pounding like a mad in her chest.

She finished what she had started in her chamber, bringing herself to fulfilment with sure, swift strokes of her fingers, driving their tips into her sensitive, fleshy womanhood, able now to afford to moan and rock her hips, imagining her body peeking through from under her wet nightgown.

She imagined that she knelt before him to lunge and soothe him, that she barely fit his fat cock in her small mouth, all swollen from the desire she had always aroused in him, that this proud, dark, cold man whimpered before her like a small, innocent boy when he finally gave in, thrusting again and again deep into her warm throat.

She came with a low moan of relief, panting heavily, hugging her face into the pillow, rocking her hips for a while longer, slowly coming down from her peak.

She was sure that as she lay half asleep, feeling a blissful, pleasant peace, she heard their moans in the distance and grinned involuntarily.

Of course he forgave her.

He always did.

She often had dreams whose meaning she did not understand; she saw people she had never met before, observing events that might as well have happened in the future or in the past. That night, however, her dream particularly troubled and worried her, as she had no idea what it actually meant.

Two streams of blood finally merging into one, flowing like a river, which then, however, became a lake that reminded her of a dragon's head in a crown, only to spill over after a while, and she saw nothing but red.

Was this what was about to happen?

Would Princess Rheanyra and Prince Daemon be murdered and another dragon's reign begin upon their blood?

She swallowed hard, thinking of that young, cheerful girl, of how obvious it was that she was not aware of anything, that whatever her uncle-husband knew, he had not shared it with her.

She thought that if he betrayed her, she would wilt like a flower, fade like the sun in a setting sky.

She stood up and headed for his chamber.

His gaze expressed nothing less than disgust and rage at the sight of her. He reached for his tunic, dressing it hurriedly, tense and pale, knowing full well what was to happen if the negotiations did not bring the results he hoped for.

She wondered if he realised that even if he didn't give the order, they would be murdered anyway.

"You will betray her." She said indifferently, and he threw her a quick, horrified look, his nostrils quivering in disbelief.

He knew perfectly well what she was referring to.

She thought that sometimes all it took was a gentle push, putting a mirror in front of someone's face to make them think carefully again about whether they were ready for the consequences of their choices.

"You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most. You will break her. You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again. You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing. You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death."

She said and grinned, seeing that he shuddered all over, that his mask had cracked, his lips parted as if he wanted to groan in despair.

She knew he saw it in his mind, felt it in his heart, and she left his chamber without a word.

She let out a loud breath as she walked down the empty corridor, thinking with some kind of hope that her words, the vision she had invented to break him would terrify him enough to make him fall to his knees before his wife and confess everything he knew.

And if he doesn't, if in fact he betrays her, it will prove that he was never worthy of her.

She had come to her summons when she wished to clothe herself; she saw, crossing the threshold of her quarters, that she too was frightened and anxious, only for completely different reasons.

She wished for them to come to an understanding.

She believed it was possible.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought, at the realisation that she was alone in a world where everyone but her craved war, craved power, craved the throne.

She did not look at her face, at the clear command of her husband not allowing herself any closer proximity to her, which she accepted with understanding.

After she had fastened the buckles of her leather coat, however, she allowed herself to take her soft hand in her own, stroking it with her thumb.

She hesitated and furrowed her brow, but before she could move away, she began to speak, forcing herself to whisper, fearing that her brother's servants might have heard her.

"Do not return here. Fly from the Eyrie straight to King's Landing. I saw in my dream a river of blood taking the shape of a dragon's head wearing a crown. I saw red flooding everything around me." She said quickly, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

She thought in disbelief that she pitied this girl.

"This warning, these words, are my gift to you. Look after yourself. Trust no one."

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond angst #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond fandom #aemond fanfic #hotd fandom #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #hotd smut #ewan mitchell smut #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon #canon aemond #dark aemond #dark aemond smut #aemond targaryen angst #hotd angst #ewan mitchell angst #ewan mitchell #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x female

[demilypyro]

There's a thought/theory/whatever I've long had about a specific pair of episodes from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine ever since I was a teen, and I'm putting this post out there to see if anybody else had the same thought.

I think Julian Bashir from Deep Space Nine, especially his plotline about having been genetically altered at a young age, is a commentary on neurodivergency.

Bashir is characterized as being highly intelligent, albeit lacking in social insight. He excels in academic matters but frequently finds himself floundering around women, being led by the nose by more charismatic people, and not picking up what other people are putting down. This alone would make him the average stereotypical TV depiction of an autistic person, but what I want to focus on is the episode that provides a canonical reason for these traits: the season 5 episode Doctor Bashir, I Presume.

In this episode it's revealed, or retconned really, that Bashir owes his intelligence to genetic tempering. Bashir originally suffered from a learning disability. He was not as intelligent as other children his age, falling far behind his peers, and his parents resorted to illegally altering his genes to "cure" that disability. As a result he instead became exceedingly intelligent. In essence, it took away a symptom that made his life more difficult, and traded it for one that made him more functional.

That episode on its own isn't a super strong nod towards autism. Though it does establish that Bashir is at least neurodivergent, it's more a discussion on eugenics and the theoretical ethics of removing disabilities through genetics. What I really want to focus on is the sort-of-sequel to this episode, and the only other episode that really focuses on these themes: the season 6 episode "Statistical Probabilities." In this episode, Bashir sets out to help other people who underwent genetic alteration, but for whom the treatments didn't go as well. The people he meets all display symptoms of one neurodivergency or another. One of them is very hyperactive and lacks empathy, another is very childlike despite being an old man, and another is entirely unresponsive.

For me, as someone who grew up in special education, I couldn't help but recognize some of the people I knew. To me, the metaphor was clear: "genetic alteration" was really just sci-fi talk for neurodivergency. Julian was the savant, the high-functioning autistic person who successfully integrated into society, because his neurodivergency gave him intelligence and insight that made him useful. And the others weren't as lucky, struggling to lead normal lives because their symptoms impeded their ability to function by themselves.

Bashir spends the episode trying to prove that the other genetically altered people have something to offer society, that there is a place for them. It felt very on the nose to me. But no one I've seen talk about this pair of episodes ever seemed to have taken from them what I took from them. I can't find anyone else online who interpreted the episodes the same way. Maybe my perspective is very particular, as someone who spent so much time in special education growing up, and who has personally struggled with finding a place where I can offer something to others. But idk. Am I seeing allegories that aren't there? What do yall think?

#star trek #deep space nine #ds9

[ghelgheli]

Well in that case we can also argue that ''trans woman" fonctions as an umbrella gender characterized by a particular adversarial and oppositional relationship to patriarchy: transmisogyny produces trans womanhood, and afab trans women are certainly this.

''Trans woman'' is also an essentialist archetype that some trans women fail to met (e.g those born with a vulva, those who can bear children).

The social reality of the afab transfem can be similar to the one of (conventional) transfemininity if the afab person is perceived (and thus treated) as a transfem..so what about those people ? Aren't they functionally transfem ? Their lived material experience isn't transfem? However similarity can also arises from interesections between racialization, misogyny, or lesbianism, intersexuality, detransition etc, creating experiences that are functionally like or adjacent to trans womanhood. Some afabs can also be ''women by dint of being less than women'' and thus are transfems, this is not exclusive to amab transfems.

the crux of your problem is this sentence: "the social reality of the afab transfem can be similar to the one of (conventional) transfemininity if the afab person is perceived (and thus treated) as a trans fem"

this is the main justification I see being used for claims of transfemininity/trans womanhood/being tma by people who were cafab: people keep mistaking me for a tranny, and that makes me a tranny! this rests on a complete misunderstanding of the systemic nature of transmisogyny. being mistaken for a trans woman, even on the regular, does not put someone in the same totalizing relationship to hegemonic gender, for the simple reason that (as I have now said multiple times) the logic of transmisogyny operates thru birth assignment. the corrective violence of transmisogyny is applied specifically because betraying coercive assignment as male puts a person in a unique degenerate position as far as cisheteropatriarchy is concerned. someone who was cafab will always have their birth assignment as a shield against this, even if there are instances of mistaken identity where it cannot be used in time.

you may retort that sometimes the violence against someone who was cafab proceeds apace despite disclosure of this assignment—perhaps in the case of the cafab butch lesbian facing street violence (thinking of nearby versions of hannah gadsby's story in nannette), or the working class transmasc on T running up against discrimination at the workplace, or, famously, the case of woman athletes, generally Black and sometimes intersex as in the case of Caster Semenya, being banned from sports competitions (I imagine this is one of the examples you're alluding to when you mention intersections). but to equivocate this to transfemininity is itself violent erasure. you would be neglecting that in every case there is a difference between the person under discussion and someone against whom transmisogyny has set its whole machinery.

there are tma masc lesbians, there are working class transfems on T, there are Black trans women for whom participation in sport is yet more complicated. the realities of navigating the legal-medical-social apparatus of gender is multiplied in impossibility for all of them, because birth assignment is the charge laid by transmisogyny to condemn the trans woman. whatever intersection your "afab transfem" sits at, there will always be this difference between them and transfemininity. this is a difference that will be leveraged against the latter, not the former.

if you think you can reskin my argument as you have in this ask and maintain its fit to reality, then you understand neither misogyny nor transmisogyny. transmisogyny against the "afab transfem" is a mistake by the lights of hegemonic gender itself, to be amended (not necessarily into something harmless, but certainly into something different) upon the revelation of birth assignment. meanwhile the misogyny experienced by trans women (including closeted trans women, including the trans girl who does not even know why she is being treated thus!) does not happen by accident, but as part of the logic of (trans)misogyny itself, because trans women fail to be men despite their birth assignment and this demands punishment. there is not an escape-by-disclosure here. in other words, misogyny deliberately makes trans women women! there is no defense the trans woman can mount on the basis of birth assignment, because that is the very event against which her existence is measured.

this is not true of your imagined afab transfem, nor is any further punishment systemically levelled against the "afab transfem" because of their failing to meet the "essentialist archetype" of trans womanhood. on the contrary, the "afab transfem" remains asymmetrically empowered to use transmisogyny against the transfeminine. yes, cafab ppl are not exempt from violent transphobia, but this is not a violence predicated on the same gender-betrayal the transfeminine person embodies. the political distinction between these experiences remains.

a final point: you are correct that some cafabs can be "woman by dint of being less than woman" but I never claimed that this was a unique trait of transfemininity! in fact I made it clear that this is a common condition for many women (ableism, fatphobia, classism, etc. can all degender a woman). what is unique is the role the logic of transmisogyny plays in defining transfemininity, and the specific manner in which it underclasses the transfeminine subject—makes her the kind of person for whom only a certain, highly peripheralized form of existence is permissible.

if you are interested in describing the way the world is (hopefully with intent to change it) then this is not the way to go about that. any careful analysis of the power relations that cisheteropatriarchy uses to facilitate gender-classing in service of the division of labour will make this clear. you can argue whatever you want! you can also be wrong.

#ask answer #why cant i get fun asks instead of this #im answering these bc i think jt would be helpful to have like a library of resposnes dor the inevitable next time #but pls #if i wasnt so deprived of stimulation rn i would probably not be bothering yo answer #hopefully by the end of tomorrow my thumbs will haveba spacebarand moise to caress again

[marymary-diva17]

Our human wife

Jake x reader x neytiri

It had been know that the omaticaya is special in everyone terms, as have allowed the sky people to become apart of their clan and one of them as well. That had lead to many unseen and rare mating couples and families, and once of the families is Neytiri and Jake sully. As they mates and leader of the clan but also share a mate as well, who is dreamwlalker and mother of their kids. You had become their human wife fifteen years ago and it still stayed the same as well.

y/n " okay if we keep this work up the base will be fully functional"

norm " you are always a women with a plan"

y/n " yes I'm"

max " It good the metekyaian let us stay here"

y/n " well it took some talking but it seems like they let us stay here, for good well in the conditions we don't do anything stupid or bad"

norm " that will be easy we just have to make sure not to be like the RDA:

y/n " yes"

max " well I will make sure the word get around to everyone"

y/n " thank max" you are now alone looking over some the supplies, while max and norm had went inside to get some food and to deal with other matters as well.

????? " yawne" you soon heard a voice that you knew so well, as you had soon tuned around and saw neytiri walking over with jake not that far behind her.

y/n " hello my wife and husband"

Neytiri " hello we came to see you as you failed to answer our call, to have morning meal with us"

y/n " oh wait now I see the problem I didn't have a good connection"

neytiri " see ma Jake this way we need to stop using these demon devices, they are failures"

Jake " honey they are still good you have to remember like us our wife is busy, and she has role to the clan here and with us"

neytiri " yes I know but I feel like your friends are trying to steal her away"

y/n " no one will never steal me away from you two"

neytiri " good so what are you all doing here it seems like the homes, are coming up well"

y/n “ thank you we are going to this some of soil here to help us, plant our crops and other stuff as well”

neytiri “ you are always showing amazing talent my beautiful yawne”

y/n “ thank you”

Jake “ still the smart women I meet all those years ago, and it seems like the kids have picked up that talent”

y/n “ good because they have offer to help me with my work, and those are my babies” neytiri and Jake laugh.

????? “ hello” the three adults soon turned around and soon saw, tonowari standing there Jake and neytiri stood tall.

Jake “ hello tonowari how may we help you”

tonowari “ I have come to see the work of your mate and humans as well, my children had been speaking highly of her and the other humans”

y/n “ welcome olo’eythan tonowari I see you”

tonowari “ hello y/n I see you”

neytiri “ you seem shocked at our mate knows our tongues very well”

tonowari “ yes I have never knew that many humans, could speak our language for well”

Jake “ well if you most know she had helped me leaned she knew more then me”

neytiri “ yes she was one of the people why before you”

Jake “ very funny”

y/n “ enough you two stop acting like children”

Jake and neytiri " yes love" there had been some chuckles and laugh heard making the four look at the humans, that came out to see everything.

max " wow Jake it seems like there someone who can get you to do anything"

man " yes the former jarhead has meet his match"

Jake " oh hush all of you she my wife"

y/n " okay everyone let act mature for once in a while now I see why, all are kids are they ways they are" everyone soon nodded their heads and soon went on with their lives, tonowari had been able to see even if neytiri and Jake are best warriors and good heroes. they was one persons who could order them around and commanded them around, and that was you and he was very impressed as well. It seems like the metkayain were started to be get to the humans a bit more, and see even if they are humans they are strong and smart after all and they were not all that bad.

#avatar #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar the way of water #sully family x reader #jake x reader #neytiri x reader #jake sully x you #jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x reader #neytiri x jake #neytiri x oc #neytiri x you #navi x reader #neytiri #navi x human #jake x reader x neytiri #jake x neytiri #jake x y/n

[doberbutts]

I think the terms TMA/TME work best when they're used as rules of thumb, rather than expected to function as strict categories. They're often helpful, but occasionally they can become obfuscatory, and there are edge cases where they can't be neatly applied. In those cases, they should be set aside, but with an understanding that they will be brought back into conversations when helpful.

To give a personal perspective - I'm a trans masc individual who has, upon occasion, experienced misdirected transmisogyny. I was on T for 5 years, then came off it (partly due to health problems, partly due to starting to identify as nonbinary rather than as a man) and began presenting in a more feminine manner, and people would regularly mistake me for a trans woman.

When people thought I was a trans woman, I did notice an increase in hostility, harassment and unwelcome advances from strangers. Groups of men would shout at me in the street, mothers would glare at me and physically pull their children further away from me if I came near. I also started getting catcalled and couldn't enjoy a night out in a club without being groped. I'd experienced some of these things as a trans man and as a girl, but probably never at such a high frequency or so intensely.

I definitely think I got a taste of transmisogyny and people do still assume I'm trans fem from time to time. But I still wouldn't describe myself as TMA. I don't shout it from the rooftops, but if it feels relevant in the context of a conversation, I will say I'm TME. Because I think the terms are about overarching dynamics, rather than whether or not an individual has ever faced a single instance of transmisogyny.

For me, there was always a sense of distance between myself and any negative experience, that came from knowing they'd misread my AGAB - "that lad just called me a chick with a dick! How funny! I'd be so lucky!" / "You're harassing me for using the female showers at the gym when I am literally menstruating. Are you going to stop being a creep, or do I have to show you my bloody tampon?" There's a degree to which I can sidestep or disavow their idea of me in a manner trans women can't.

I also don't know what it's like to deal with many other elements of transmisogyny, or deal with it as an overarching narrative in one's life rather than a freak episode.

I think it's fair to say I have at times been a grey area and I could use my experiences to argue against the validity of TME/TMA, but I don't want to do that. I don't like it when the terms are just used as a way to say AFAB/AMAB while being perceived as less problematic. But I think it is helpful to have little shorthand reminders about specific power dynamics that do have an impact in our communities. I have absolutely seen transmisogyny play out in queer spaces, both online and IRL, and I think it's worth having vocabulary that emphatically reminds people to check themselves and to not assume they don't have internalised bias against trans women just because they're trans masc.

Trans women are a boogeyman in popular culture and the collective unconscious in a way trans men never have been (at least, not to anything like the same extent). Trans women face an intensity of monstering that I think most people won't understand unless they spend a lot of time sharing space with and listening to trans women. The rapid adoption of TMA/TME feels like an attempt to fast-track that understanding en masse. Maybe it's a bit clumsy, but I do think it's having an impact and important conversations are happening. I don't know if the terms will stick or fall out of use. Having been in the trans community for over a decade and seeing how our vocabularies evolve, I'm inclined to think they'll stick around for a few years and then largely disappear. But I feel that while trans women are finding them useful, we need to be respectful of that fact.

Idk sorry to rant in your askbox, I wanted to give my two cents. Feel free to ignore lol

I'm going to be a bit blunt here: in the span of time I've been off tumblr to, you know, sleep... I've gotten 20 different asks trying to convince me to like the usage of tma/tme and also several transphobic asks about my top surgery. The transphobic ones I blocked and deleted because I'm literally 3 weeks out and will not be dissuaded. But I'm simply not willing to continue arguing a point I've made very clear that I don't love the usage of this particular theory the way it's currently being used.

You can like it for yourself. I have said this over and over again. I do not like it for me, and do not think it is accurate for my life or my experiences or the reality that is what I have to go through on a regular basis. True to everything else that I've posted, I don't really care what you call yourself. If you want to call yourself TME and you believe that framework works for your experience, more power to you. Just don't label me that, because I don't think it works for mine.

Trans women are absolutely a boogeyman in a way that trans men often aren't. That is, unfortunately, one of the ways that hypervisibility is such a curse. Everyone knows what a trans woman is, and a good majority of those people also think the only good one's a dead one. That's bad. That's transmisogyny, and we should ally with trans women to help fix this problem.

Also unfortunately, as trans men become more and more visible to the world, instead of facing mass erasure and dying in silence or escaping to live in stealth, trans men are also beginning to become a boogeyman as well. Now we are a social contagion, a craze, with rapid onset gender dysphoria, mutilating ourselves and ruining our precious bodies, carving out our wombs, simultaneously debasing ourselves and also becoming predators lurking to snatch daughters up and forcefeed them our ideology, betraying women by becoming a mockery of men. What's worse, we tend to politically close ranks with trans women and cis women alike so it's harder for transphobic lawmakers to divide and conquer as they're used to with cis men, so instead they have to demonize us to prevent any further allyship.

That's the conversation trans mascs are trying to have.

Genuinely, I do agree that trans women face an othering that most people do not grasp without understanding transmisogyny theory, which is why I think everyone should have at least a basic understanding of it. But I also think that's true of many other demographics, and that if we want to get out of the pit that bigoted society put us in, we've got to work together to do so. It was, after all, the combined efforts of Marsha P Johnson AND Storme de Laverie that brought us out in the open. And among me friend group, we have people from all different races and backgrounds and genders and more locking arms to ensure the safety of each other, wanting to understand and know each other, lifting each other up.

[thequeer07puss]

On Hera and Zeus’s marriage: a rant

I’ve seen a lot people get mad at Zeus because his application of marriage in mythology is a bit more flexible than what we’re used to, while misunderstanding the theological and cultural realities that surround it

The Native Hera and the Foreign Zeus

Long ago, before what is now known as the Greek pantheon was a thing, the Greeks worshipped the goddess now known as Hera, and she was their main goddess. Some time later, another group of people, recognisable as derived from Proto-Indo-European descent through their worship of a sky father (Zeus), either conquered or merged with the existing culture of the time.

These two groups, to avoid too violent of a clash while merging, made their patron deities spouses to make the transition more smooth for everyone, effectively breaking the Proto-Indo-European pattern of sky god-earth goddess duos, while still being present to a lesser extent in the form Demeter’s brief marriage with Zeus.

Divine marriage

Now, we all know Zeus in his myths was quite a womaniser, both because of his function as an All-Father, and as his function as the representation of Ancient Greek patriarchal society where men could have as many extramarital affairs and women could not. Note the fact that this was completely allowed and accepted in Ancient Greece, and that other male deities with known spouses still slept around without their wives getting angry (eg Poseidon and Dionysus).

Why is that so? One could simply dismiss this by saying that Hera is just “being jealous”, but the answer is deeper than the surface level.

The marriage of Zeus and Hera is meant to be egalitarian, meaning that they occupy the same position and receive the same amount of honour in Olympian society, and Hera, as defender and mistress of Olympus, has to constantly check whether or not there is a breach of that egalitarian semi-open marriage or an attack on her honours as both queen of the gods and equal partner of Zeus.

Now, Hera is well-known for her fury against Zeus’s mistresses, and while this may seem funny/tragic to people, it’s not rlly ALL of them that had that treatment. The only ones of Zeus’s mistresses (that I know of) that received any kind of attack from Hera were Leto, Alcmene and Semele. (This ill reputation of Hera as a jealous wife might mostly be due to Heracles, but we’ll get back to him later)

Leto and Semele

Leto was one of Zeus’s previous wives before Hera came in power, and she conceived her children, Apollo and Artemis after Zeus and Hera got married (UPG). Semele was a mortal princess from a very important family line, who Zeus took a liking to and came down to often, even swearing to her on the river Styx to give her anything she wanted. This could tickle Hera the wrong way for 2 reasons: Leto, a previous queen, and Semele, a mortal, may have started to feel proud of Zeus’s special attention, and that their children (Apollo & Artemis, and Dionysus respectively) were destined to eventually enter her home due to them being very important. The first point could just be a reminder of Hera’s supremacy as Queen of Heaven, and sends a clear message: “Just because the King gives you special favours doesn’t mean you are above, or better than me”.

The trials that face Heracles, Apollon and Dionysus (ie madness followed by redemption, Python, and a period of madness respectively) could therefore be tests to prove their worth and proof that Zeus did not waste his time and energy making children unfit to integrate the Olympian family without some pushback. Zeus famously spent 3 days conceiving Heracles, whose famous fate at the hands of Hera could be seen as trials in her honour, as evidenced by his name which means “the glory of Hera”. When he ascends to Olympus, he even goes as far as marrying Hera’s daughter, Hebe.

Conclusion

Hera is not a jealous wife, and her marriage with Zeus is certainly not dysfunctional. They love each other deeply (see: the foundation myth of the Daidala festival) and their relationship is certainly not something to be questioned or made fun of. Honouring Hera properly means honouring Zeus, and vice-versa.

On that note, I wish you all a happy Theogamia.

#hera deity #Hera #Zeus deity #Zeus #helpol #paganism #Greek mythology #this is for the people who call Zeus an asshole #and those who want a story where they’re divorced #I rlly hate when that happens

[isfjmel-phleg]

After my presentation of the Secret Garden and CEN paper, someone in the audience asked about applying the lens of CEN to other children's book from the same era. I thought about it afterward, and the best example that came to mind was Anne of Green Gables.

Anne Shirley, before her arrival at Green Gables, has experienced CEN. It has played out in a much different way for her than it does for Mary and Colin in TSG, due to differences in social class, but the principle has been the same. As an orphan raised in homes that viewed her as an inconvenience and a sort of unpaid servant, she has never had an adult in her life who prioritized her emotional well-being, who took the time to be kind to her, to listen to her, to teach her how to function in the world beyond basic survival. She is aware that no one wants her after her parents' death, and she is made to feel guilty by her caretakers for having the audacity to exist and need to be "brought up by hand." It's difficult for Anne to even talk about these experiences when Marilla asks her. She's relieved to get relating them over with, because "Evidently she did not like talking about her experiences in a world that had not wanted her."

And then there's this exchange:

“Were those women—Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond—good to you?” asked Marilla, looking at Anne out of the corner of her eye. “O-o-o-h,” faltered Anne. Her sensitive little face suddenly flushed scarlet and embarrassment sat on her brow. “Oh, they meant to be—I know they meant to be just as good and kind as possible. And when people mean to be good to you, you don’t mind very much when they’re not quite—always. They had a good deal to worry them, you know. It’s a very trying to have a drunken husband, you see; and it must be very trying to have twins three times in succession, don’t you think? But I feel sure they meant to be good to me.”

Anne has clearly been mistreated, but she's describing--and pointedly not describing--suggests less of aggression and physical harm and more of something missing, an emptiness, a lack of love--CEN. Likewise, she herself exhibits some signs that can be associated with this type of maltreatment. Difficulty with emotional regulation, attachment problems, extreme sensitivity to rejection, negativity toward herself, excessively immersing herself in imagination (a mild dissociative tendency), anxiety around social situations (regarding how to behave correctly and whether people will like her), etc.

And in a way, the entire first book of the series deals with how she finds healing from her past of CEN, through gaining the love and acceptance of her new family, of friends, of an entire community.

From what little I know of L. M. Montgomery's life, CEN was likely a factor in her own upbringing, and it repeatedly features in her novels (The Blue Castle and Jane of Lantern Hill, for instance, in particular feature heroines who have experienced CEN) with poignancy. Montgomery paints moving portraits of how badly children can be scarred by a lack of love and affirmation.

Anyway, situating Anne's backstory as rooted in CEN helped me put my finger on one of the reasons that I felt that the recent series Anne With an E--at least the first season, which is all I've seen--misunderstood the nature of Anne's past. In this version, we see flashbacks to Anne's past, in which she is being viciously bullied by other children for her talkativeness and imagination. They even go so far as to stuff a mouse into her mouth, and the show suggests that Anne has PTSD as a result of this kind of treatment.

And yeah, Anne's childhood in the book isn't great and clearly has hurt her deeply, but this interpretation felt off to me. What Anne has to say--and not say--about her past in the book suggests not that she was targeted as an object of others' aggression but that she was disregarded. No one was giving her a second thought. That's not as dramatic and shocking as vicious bullying, but it's another, more subtle, insidious kind of maltreatment, just as hurtful in its way but harder to pin down. It's easy to portray a quick, sensational scene of our protagonist being obviously, overtly, grandiosely mistreated, but how do you show the gradual piling up of years' and years' of being treated like you don't matter? All the tiny incidents that chip away at one's sense of self-worth? The building of a worldview in which you must earn love and acceptance but somehow you can never manage it and of course it's your own fault?

And I'm reminded how recent adaptations and retellings of TSG shift the narrative toward grief, which is easy to dramatize, big and impressive and full of obvious pathos. It's an easy way out of depicting a subtler kind of suffering, and the same way, Anne With an E replaces Anne's CEN with bullying and PTSD. There is a place for such stories, but Anne's isn't one of them. It's almost as if there's an inability to understand or a reluctance to depict any kind of suffering that isn't big and grand and shocking. There are many ways that people can be deeply hurt, and it doesn't always look like a major traumatic event that's easy to pinpoint. Sometimes the hurt isn't a tidal wave that engulfs in a single devastating event; it's a slow drip that erodes oneself away little by little. That's closer to what is depicted for Anne, and Montgomery's other protagonists who have experienced CEN, and it's important to recognize what exactly is going on because this sort of thing still happens every day in the real world, in many forms, and it needs to be seen and combatted. And seeing this form of maltreatment play out in literature helps us recognize it and empathize with and reach out to those whom it has impacted--or possibly even to identify it in our own histories and search for our own healing.

#I apologize if not everything is phrased perfectly - I'm just working through some initial thoughts on this #but I hope the point of what I'm trying to communicate will get through

[waitmyturtles]

I have a little mental battle going on right now, what with Only Friends meta brain rot and a very intense rewatching of Bad Buddy happening on my end for my Old GMMTV Challenge project. (LORDDDDD, to be thinking about OF and BBS at the same time, HAAAAAA.)

But anyway, yeah, going there, because I have Asian parents on the mind (honestly, when do I NOT have Asian parents on the mind). My late nights have been filled with utter disdain for Ming and Dissaya, but I'm also thinking about Mew's moms, who showed up in episode 9 of OF this past weekend.

@neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan and I talked a bit about the nature of that visit by Mew's moms. When they were in Mew's apartment, Mew's moms had called and called, and Mew didn't pick up. He was crashed on his couch, hungover, cigs on the table. He looked like a kid who didn't have it together -- red flags for any parent. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

As they stand outside looking for a car to take them shopping, Top appears out of thin air -- put-together, handsome, clearly rich, confident, and ready to help. Mew is rolling his eyes and grimacing.... and Mew's moms are eating it up.

During the visit, Mew's moms express concern for him -- he's getting skinnier, he needs to eat more. They are doting moms, worried about Mew's health. Top is THERE, clearly ready to be assigned a caretaker role. And Mew's moms AND Top are all under the impression that Mew HAS to be taken care of by a third-party, because of the way he's presenting during this moment with his moms (tired, hungover, etc.). Mew's moms eat Top up for lunch.

I think it's really important to note what was going on in this parental dynamic between Mew and his moms. We might THINK -- we may ASSUME, watch ourselves -- that Mew's moms may be more attuned to Mew's non-verbal signals about his feelings about Top because his moms are women and lesbians. We might ASSUME that they can READ feelings better than, say, a heterosexual father.

What I thought was BEYOND BRILLIANT about this scene, something I shared with @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm, is that Jojo Tichakorn and the OF team turned these assumptions on their head.... and, holy shit, rendered Mew's moms into TYPICAL ASIAN PARENTS. GOD, BRILLIANCE.

Mew's moms were wowed by Top's wealth -- of course they wanted to ride in Mew's car! They invited him for lunch at their cafe. They implicitly trusted Top to take care of Mew, because clearly, to them, Mew can't take care of himself, and Top presents as totally together.

@neuroticbookworm pointed out in conversation that Asian parents so very often would rather trust anyone else than their own children on just about any topic -- the health of their children, the career success of their children. It's just BAKED into our Asian cultures that our parents are, and will be, the most critical people in the lives of us Asian children for the rest of our existences. NBW also brought up that Asian parents are so much more likely to be concerned about a child's future rather than their present. Which is why Mew's moms would be more clicked into setting up Top as a caretaker -- rather than checking in on Mew's feelings. Checking in on a child's feelings at any given point of time is MUCH MORE of a Western paradigm of parenting than in Asia.

As an Asian watching this episode, I felt very much at home watching Mew's moms essentially ignore his emotional state because, well, it reflected every facet of my childhood. I thought it was a sick and genius move of Jojo et al to turn the paradigm of any assumptions we may have about a set of lesbian moms being more emotionally clicked in -- and turning them into the typical Asian parents that we see in shows like BBS.

It was an utterly genius move, and it goes to show just how layered and intricate these commentaries are about the functionality of all aspects of society that Only Friends is skewering.

#only friends the series #bad buddy #only friends meta #asian parenting #asian family dynamics #asian family systems #top x mew #mew x top #jojo tichakorn #ninew pinya

[radfem-rage]

do you ever think about how emotionally immature TiMs and TiFs are? Everything I see them hung up on as been stuff I dealt with when I was 12-18. Yet they're out here hung up on it despite being 23+. Stuff like being obsessed with having followings, treating trivial things like it's their personality (gender, pretending their bad habits makes them cool, etc), being a mindless consumer (they all act like teens- wanting all this junk and being equally bad with money), not wanting to work because it's soooo unfair, being mad at the way SoCiEtY is (in regards to trivial things), etc.

It's honestly kinda creepy seeing TiMs in their 40s sounding the same way as 16yr TiMs, since literally most trans people sound and act the same fucking way. Its so uncanny, but it's due to their sheer lack of personality. They then turn into little "clusters" of appearance. Are you an it/itself/pup *posts pictures of furries and bdsm* trans or are you a they/them *posts pictures of cottagecore* trans? Don't even get me started on their physical appearance, because yes they even look alike physically and there's sets of "clusters" in regards to style. Are you the kidcore-esc dyed hair still feminine they/them girl or are you the porn-addicted dead-eyed blond twink trying to mimic an e girl? Or are you Chris Chan? lolol

When I see how they all function, especially with how I had plenty of friends who transed out.... It makes me conscious of how much I matured over the years. I wonder if I would be less mature if I wasn't actually dealing with systemic issues? Like abuse, homelessness, discrimination, etc. I went from "youre so mature for your age" to feeling like a "child within an adult body" to now feeling like my actual age. Progress! Yet with these people, there is no progress. They all come across as children in adult bodies.

Holy shit, yes!

What scares me is how the trans community has no problem telling the mentally ill youth that if their pretend identity isn’t affirmed at all times or if their insane demands are not being accepted immediately, it is a valid reason to threaten to commit suicide or shoot yourself. Things like:

• Demanding your parents never call you your “deadname” again out of nowhere

• Parents being forced to forget about how their child used to be before they got mentally ill and when they obviously struggle (because duh, a woman that gave birth to a girl will obviously struggle when that now teenage girl pretends she is a boy) they’re evil

• Tattoos of deadnames must be covered up or “fixed” to have the TiP’s new name or be removed all together

• Genital mutilation surgery the moment they want it and if the parents refuse or want to wait they’re evil transphobes who deserve to die.

• Never being allowed to share news articles about Trans pedophiles or rapists because “transphobia”

• TiF’s invading gay bars and TiM’s invading lesbian bars and then act confused when no one wants them around even though they have been shown multiple times no one wants the opposite sex in gay bars.

Trans people are indeed like children in adult bodies. They have never been told the word “no” and can’t accept it, either. They are stuck in a trans hug-box all day long that will affirm their bullshit and lie to them at every second of every day, they will only depend on other trans people because everyone else is transphobic and slowly lose connections with sane individuals. Then the moment they realize they were never born in the wrong body after all and underwent FGM/MGM for nothing the trans community will backstab them and tell them to k!ll themselves.

I used to have 2 TiM friends. Both were addicted to porn and thought women lived life on easy mode. They were acting extremely feminine and like a sexist stereotype, because they thought that was all a woman was, the moment I stopped affirming their bs and told them women aren’t regressive stereotypes or “feminine people” but adult people of the female sex, they dumped me as a friend. I never once regretted it because truth deserves to be spoken and I got nothing to be ashamed of. I too, changed a lot over the years and became more mature and outspoken, and grew & improved myself a lot, from libfem to radfem, and I love that about myself. ✌🏻

#I apologize it took so long #to answer lol I forgot to check asks #radfem #radical feminism #terf #terf friendly #terfs please touch #radblr #terfblr

[stoat-party]

It’s a Saturday and I’ve got Legion headcanons

Legionaries tend to be very young. They’re inducted as soldiers at ten and cleared for combat around fifteen, depending on supply and demand at the time.

If you survive into your mid-twenties as a Legion soldier, you’re pretty much guaranteed at least a rank of decanus.

Legionaries are called by a Latin number one through eight once they’re put into their contuberniums (contubernii? contubernia?). They can earn names by distinguishing themselves in some way. This fosters the mindset that they have no existence or identity apart from their utility to the Legion.

Many legionaries have damaged outer ears where their tribal earrings were forcibly removed from them. This is why NCR soldiers ask for legion ears as bounty: if someone shows up with a bagful of severed ears (normal and not at all horribly desensitized thing to do), you can verify where they’re from by seeing how many are scarred.

Marriage in the Legion, unsurprisingly, has little to do with love. It’s more of a status symbol for officers. “Wife” and “slave” are legally almost indistinguishable, but being a housewife is almost always preferable to being a private slave, and being a private slave is worlds better than being a public laborer.

Since men and women are separated by status, romantic love usually only happens within the ranks or between slaves. However, it’s not unheard of for married couples to develop mutual respect and closeness. (I think Lucius loves his wife, personally.)

There are male slaves in the Legion, but they usually work as farmers instead of living in cities. Women who can’t have children (or whose genes the Legion doesn’t like for whatever reason) are the same.

The Legion’s ruling structure is divided into the Legion proper (led by the legate, performs basic functions including war), the Praetorian guard (led by whatever Lucius’s title is, responsible for internal order, punishment for crimes, security for important people, and doing whatever Caesar tells them to do), the Frumentarii (led by whatever Vulpes’s title is, kind of nebulous responsibilities to fit the occasion, “diplomacy,” intelligence, also oversees the couriers), and the Temple (led by high priestess, responsible for religious practices and the raising of children).

#did not realize how much i had to say about this #the name thing totally isn’t because i can’t think up enough unique Latin names when i’m writing #fallout new vegas #new vegas #fallout: new vegas #fnv #caesar’s legion #lucius fallout #vulpes inculta #caesar fallout #fallout nv

[glimblshanks]

Okay headcanon time: So in Crisis Point Beckett says that Carol has "been a dick to her since she was eight", and my theory on that is that eight years old is when Beckett first started actually living on starships.

It makes sense to me that Starfleet would have an option for people with young children to live planet side and work at the academy for a bit if they wanted to, and I think Carol took that option and raised Beckett on Earth for the first few years of her life.

This is backed up by the fact that Carol is a captain while her husband is an admiral. Assuming that the two of them started in Starfleet around the same time and had mostly the same opportunities to rank up, Carol taking a long break on Earth to raise Beckett while her husband kept working on starships would explain their rank difference.

This would also explain some things about Carol and Beckett's dynamic.

Carol is functionally a single Mom for most of Beckett's early life. It's hard, but she does her best and she loves her daughter.

Then, when Beckett turns eight, Carol decides she's old enough for them to go back onto a starship (and for the sake of narrative we'll say it's the same ship Alonzo is on).

This results in a couple of things:

Carol's knowledge and expertise are suddenly taken less seriously than they were before because she's been away for so long.

Being on the ship also makes it much more apparent that while Carol was struggling to be a single Mom, Alonzo was taking those eight years to build his career and network. This is something she already knew intellectually and had supposedly accepted and agreed to, but being her husband's subordinate on the ship really hammers in the reality of it and brings up complicated feelings for her.

On top of all that, Beckett is struggling to adjust to their new environment and to her dad suddenly being around full-time (of course she is, she's eight!). She's acting out in response.

Alonzo's most regular interactions with his daughter before this took the form of evening video calls. As a result, he has no idea how to actually parent her or deal with her tantrums.

This leaves Carol to deal with Beckett's behavior, and while she loves her daughter she's frustrated.

Dealing with Beckett takes her away from her work regularly, and Beckett's poor behavior reflects badly on Carol. It's having a major impact on her ability to actually re-integrate into the ranks of Starfleet.

Carol responds to this by essentially taking it out on Beckett. She's not abusive or anything, but her parenting style absolutely does become harsher and stricter.

For Beckett, who is already adjusting to a lot, this sudden change in dynamic with her mom only makes things worse and she acts out more. The problem becomes cyclical and more extreme as she gets older, and eventually, you end up with the mother-daughter relationship we see in the show.

I also think this is backed up by some on-screen interactions with Alonzo during the series.

In the very first episode, Carol calls Alonzo and says "She's your daughter too!" In an attempt to get him to deal with Beckett and god, how many times have I heard other women say something similar about their husband's relationship with their children? You definitely don't get the impression that Alonzo pawning Beckett's behavioral issues off onto Carol is a new thing.

Then, in Grounded, Beckett and Alonzo have an exchange that basically boils down to "You listen to your mother more than you ever listen to me" which also makes some sense if Carol was a more consistent parental figure for Beckett in her early life.

Idk, I doubt we'll ever hear a lot about Beckett's childhood in the show itself, but based on what we do know this is the theory that makes the most sense to me.

#lower decks #star trek #star trek lower decks #st lwd #beckett mariner #lwd #carol freeman #Alonzo Freeman #also some of this is based on my own experience growing up in a maritime household #like I was hanging out on work boats at a pretty early age #but I wasn't allowed to go on them until I could swim #I can see starfleet parents making similar rules #like 'our kid can't be on a starship until they can put an environmental suit on by themselves in an emergency #+ I know from my mom that being the stay at home parent while your partner is off at sea very much is like single parenting #So yeah some of this headcanon comes from that too #long post

[chrysopoeias]

controversial and way too long rambling about otp and fan interpretations

I cannot stand this pathological need to insist that with the royais, it is actually all along secretly Hawkeye who is the real mommy boss in the relationship, while Mustang is a barely functioning man-child that needs her instructions just to breathe. This insistence that Hawkeye must be the meaner, nastier, cooler, more badass person I see way too often. That she must be the one that is always smarter and better at everything. And above all, she must be tired and rolling her eyes out of her skull constantly for dealing with Mustang's bullshit and the whole relationship in general. 

Why can’t Hawkeye just be lame and have her issues too? Why must she be the mean alpha boss bitch? If anyone should be the mean alpha boss it’s more likely Roy ‘I punch children to get my point across’ Mustang, honestly.

And where is the love and romance in this idea, portraying one character as always annoyed and tired by the other? Portraying it as Mustang being the child that Hawkeye needs to mother, or he might end up sticking his tongue in a wall outlet down a public toilet. If I read about it one more time I will commit sudoku in minecraft.

It feels like disrespect for Mustang’s character too. The joke/gag about him being useless in certain situations only works because he has a hero complex. He is obsessed with being useful, on never giving up, especially on others. Not being able to help others highlights that and hurts him fundementally. It is not that he IS actually useless.

Hawkeye is just not the one in charge and leading the relationship and their goals. She is the one that follows, famously. It’s a repeated point that she is the more overtly insane and dependent one. Roy’s end goal is what keeps her going. She will explicitly not move on and take charge of their plan herself if she comes into that situation, she will simply give up and kill herself.

The need to see her be the one that is just better, stronger and smarter and doing everything in the dynamic all the time (while doing it perfectly ofc) annoys me. I have no idea where this comes from, besides popular bad American cartoons and movies often using the ‘clueless man x fundementally better woman’. Or it is #feminist ideas that the female character must be perfect and in charge otherwise it's too stereotypical and problematic.

I know fandom spaces are mostly made up of women, so it’s extra silly to me that women are the ones complaining about men in straight relationships putting all emotional labour on women and taking advantage of learnt helplessness to get out of tasks. And it is correct to complain about that. But then the same people turn to fiction and go ‘Aw isn’t it cute and sexy and so endearing for a male character to be completely helpless while his better and smarter and stronger mother girlfriend has to do everything for him UwU’. Truly baffling. It’s so unsexy to me.

My sickest fantasy is wanting to see mutual effort and respect in romance. Can they just both be cringe and pathetic sometimes? Strong and clever sometimes? Take care of each other and fill in when the other is lacking? For their codependecy and mess to be mutual? 

Stop making Mustang into a helpless child FFS.

#>does not draw anything for over 2 months #>posts rant #>disapears again #verwijder later #at the end of the day it is just fiction kek

[fenixfoxtrot510]

Kay, but like.... Brucie Wayne being protected by his children.

As Brucie he can't be anything but a well meaning idiot so his children occasionally step in when anyone tries to take advantage of him.

Not all the time. Not when it's funny to see how he'll find a way to get out of a situation without being suspicious. Or when he's looking like he's in the mood to troll people for fun.

But when he's got a nasty headache from a concussion they'll help. When people annoy them personally, they will be petty and step in. When it's objectively more funny for them to get involved they will for the lolz.

Cass will ask Brucie if the two of them can leave a function early if she sees Bruce isn't feeling up to dealing with high society parasites. Brucie could never ignore his precious princess if she claims to feel tired. He's the definition of a doting father. They always get an "Awwww!💖" when Brucie gives Cassie his coat while saying goodbye and asks her if she wants to stop for ice cream on the way home when walking away.

When gold diggers young enough to be one of Brucie's kids start eying him, Damian will cut them off from even reaching Bruce and snottily criticize them for being unfit to act as a romantic partner for his father. Then inform them to come back in 20 years if they ever learn the difference between a child and a chihuahua. Some walk away in a huff. Others will actually start an argument with a honest to god 13 year old child in the middle of a charity gala for a children's hospital. Soon as Brucie comes over to meet Dami's "new friends," Damian is in full Angel Mode aside from the mimed death threats from behind his Dad's back. The young women go as sour as expired milk when Brucie seems to mistake them for Damian's school friends.

Dick notices someone trying to spike Bruce's drink? Dickie is doing a backflip off a chandelier and stumbling the landing just enough to knock the glass and spill it over the person spiking it. Brucie is in full concerned Dad mode, making sure he isn't hurt. Dickie is apologizing for the spill. Slipping a tracker on the would be kidnapper while trying to dry off their suit jacket with a hankie. Both Brucie and Dick insist that they will pay for the dry cleaning. Then Dick offers to show off some magic tricks and accidentally makes their "aspirin" disappear.

Tim steams rolls into undercover reporters that crash galas and pins them into polite conversation about stocks, often dragging them to meet other people to get a more in depth perspective on some economic subject so they have zero opportunities to snoop. Sometimes he will do the same with reporters that were actually invited. Clark is never amused by Bruce sicking Tim on him when he's trying to discreetly apologize to him for messing up one of Bruce's undercover operations or lecture him about how dangerous it is to work undercover without backup or even just a heads up.

When business men approach Brucie to make a shady deal Jason will smile pleasantly and nod along side with Brucie. Shoot a text to one of the other kids. When Brucie steps away to take a call, Jason gives a short list of the most illegal shit the person was involved in; what exposing it could do to their business, their reputation, and to their livelihood. Goes over how he could go on all night about their other deals but Heaven Forbid the wrong person overhears and exposes everything, then wraps up with a vague threat about some friends he has underground if they get any ideas. When Brucie comes back after helping Damian fix his tie, they politely excuse themselves to leave the party. Brucie & Jason are concerned about how pale and clammy they seem to be all of a sudden and offer to find a doctor. Jason is in full Theater Kid Mode and thriving. It's dangerous to leave if they feel sick. What if someone tries to mug them in the parking lot? What if their driver was attacked and swapped out for someone looking to kidnap them? What if they are sick because the kidnappers already slipped them something in the fancy lil finger sandwiches! This is Gotham! They should stay a little longer until it either passes or they can get a hold of a safe driver that can escort them home! Brucie absolutely has to agree with his son! Almost all of his kids were kidnapped at one point or another and its always the worst, he was sick with worry everytime and terrified they'd get hurt! He couldn't bare the thought of any other family going through that!

Everyone knows that Brucie loves his children and will do anything to make sure they are happy and healthy. Everyone also knows that Brucie's kids love their dad just as much.

#batman #brucie wayne #cassandra cain #damian wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #it is an open secret that most of Gotham's 1% feel threatened by Damian and Jason #bruce wayne

[fakeagatha]

a headcanon about harkximoff having a stablished relationship in westview? 🥺

hex or after hex, whatever you want :))

A/N: I'm still not 100% on what an established relationship is but I hope I got it right :)

I have 1 more request that's been in my inbox for months, I promise I'm getting to it, I can only use my laptop because I have no storage on my phone! (I use Wattpad for oneshots)

Please reblog/like to show support!

Wandagatha in an Established Relationship Headcanons

_________________________________________

🔮Agatha entered Westview with the goal to defeat Wanda and steal her powers, so she wasn't expecting to instead fall in love with her.

❤️‍🔥In the beggining, Agatha was extremely jealous of Vision, but at the same time didn't want to hurt Wanda.

🔮When Vision "died", Agatha was somewhat relieved.

❤️‍🔥To Agatha's own surprise, she had mercy. Her plans on stealing Wanda's powers couldn't go through the way she had planned because God, she loved this woman.

🔮So instead, she pretended to loose the battle.

❤️‍🔥Long story short, something inside Wanda went off, and she let Agatha free.

🔮Wanda rebuilt the houses and buildings in Westview, so it could function like a neighborhood once again, even though many people avoided stepping foot in the borders.

❤️‍🔥It was awkward for Wanda and Agatha to be neighbors again, but they managed to rebuild their relationship in a different way.

🔮In a few words, Wanda realized that she was also into women, and Agatha was proud of herself for that.

❤️‍🔥Fast forward a few months, Wanda used her powers to turn their houses into one, as they decided to move in together.

🔮It was great for both of them, waking up next to each other, or Wanda complaining to Agatha about not flushing the toilet.

❤️‍🔥Agatha normally lied in, which gave Wanda the opportunity to attempt to make her breakfast in bed.

🔮Most of the time, it went perfectly, and Agatha fell more and more in love with her.

❤️‍🔥But neither of them will ever forget the time that Agatha spilled baked beans all over the bedsheets when Wanda attempted to make an English breakfast.

🔮One day, Wanda had decided to surprise Agatha by making an entire room for Señor Scratchy, which included a large cage, beds, toys, his food and water stations, basically a paradise for him.

❤️‍🔥Agatha was so delighted that she then surprised Wanda with a cat, named Ebony.

🔮They changed up the room and added a cat tower as well, and they were both so proud of their children.

❤️‍🔥Agatha has the habit of not closing the toilet seat after using it, and it drives Wanda crazy, so it's normal to hear her yelling "Agatha, the toilet!!" At random times throughout the day.

🔮Wanda has a habit of forgetting where she's left things, which is the reason the two are often late to their duties.

❤️‍🔥Agatha is purely what you would call a "Facebook Mom", possible because of her age, but it makes Wanda's day when she's at work sees a marvelous, blurry selfie of Agatha, the lense way too close or too far away from her face, and a very awkward angle.

#agatha harkness #wandavision #kathryn hahn #agatha all along #agatha coven of chaos #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agnes wandavision #wandavision x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x agatha #wanda x reader #wanda maximilf #wanda maximommy #harkximoff #wandagatha