A poem I've written in a fit of dysphoric frustration
my very first one, at that
When I settled into my house
and truly began making it into a home,
I realized my neighbors must have never truly seen me move in.
I hear them talk all about the woman
they assume to be the occupant
just inches away from the doorstep
I try desperately to make my own.
the doorstep they still believe belongs to this mystery girl.
Always staring confused when they don't see "her." outside.
Always assuming "she" must be out of town and will be back soon.
Always judging what must have come over that poor "girl."
I see the world through a window In the shape of her eyes,
and behind the ocular windows, I sit and watch my neighbors.
Watching them stare at "her" house, wondering
Watching them assume what "she" must be doing, wondering
Watching them judge the actions of this "girl", wondering,
Wondering what would happen should they learn she is no longer the houses occupant?
What will happen to me when I change the exterior of her house?
Why do I feel pressure to keep up some facade
that their darling girl still lives here?
I am not her,
nor have I ever been,
yet I feel this intense guilt.
Guilt for simply being myself in what once was her space.
Why must I sit in silence while they continue to believe this in woman?
This mystery of the beautiful girl
they believe so strongly to be staring out
behind the stained and scratched glass
of what once was her home.
This is my house. Not hers.
Their seemingly beloved lady moved out a long time ago.
And in spite of them all, I will make this home mine.
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Define a woman!
I’m gonna rant this here cus this argument keeps returning on the clock app and one day, I’m gonna be stupid and leave a comment in the wrong thread or smthn so I’m just gonna get it out of my system:
“How do you define a ‘woman’?”
Answer for idiots: you can’t.
You cannot possibly make a definition for the term ‘woman’ without excluding someone from the group when they clearly ARE part of the group (even if you’re a piece of shit transphobe and don’t want to include trans women). A woman is someone who has the potential to give birth? You just excluded every child before puberty, every infertile woman and every woman on menopause, next. A woman is someone who has a uterus? You just excluded a bunch of intersex women and all women who had a hysterectomy, next. A woman has a period? Excluded the millions of women who never get their period for various reasons AND all the women who take continuous birth control AND women who are pregnant AND again, little girls and women on menopause. A woman has to have XY chromosomes? Are you gonna check that for every feminine-looking person you’re gonna meet? How? Do you not think women with down syndrome are women?
Decades of feminism working so hard to make sure women are more than their genitals and potential to give birth, all flushed down the drain because you refuse to believe trans women are more than men in wigs? You’re weak as shit.
So answer for people who actually want to use their brain:
Woman is defined through experiences. Which experiences? Entirely up to whoever defines themselves as a woman.
The ‘female experience’ is so broad. You cannot possibly define it in one sentence and stick it on everyone who calls the word ‘woman’ their own.
You feel feminine and empowered by doing your nails? Congrats, that’s the female experience and makes you, therefore, a woman.
You feel feminine and empowered by wearing plaid and splitting wood in two with a giant axe? Congrats! Female Experience. Woman.
You feel feminine in a dress? Woman. You feel feminine in a tux and suit? Woman.
You feel empowered as a mother and love being pregnant? Woman! You despise the idea of being pregnant but find empowerment in your career? Woman! You feel like your period makes you more in tune with your femininity? Woman. You feel like your period makes you less than human and getting a hysterectomy makes you feel more comfortable in your body? Woman.
you love long hair? Woman. You love short hair? Woman.
You love loving men? Woman. You love loving women? Woman. You love both? Woman. You love everyone? Woman. You don’t feel like love is your thing? Woman!
Sitting at home with a good movie and a bottle of wine? That’s a woman. Getting bloody in a game of soccer? That’s very woman! Taking a walk with your dog? How very woman! Going to the gym? Such woman! Eating out with friends? Friend woman. Shooting a gun in the yard from the patio you built yourself? All woman!
Whatever the fuck makes you feel in sync with your femininity is your female experience, and if you have female experience and you like it, you are a W O M A N ✨
Same goes for men and the male experience btw! Since the question “what defines a man” is never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever EVER asked for SOME 👀 reason. (We all know the reason….) Also same goes for my fellow enbies and the non-binary experience. If painting your nails bring you closer to your enbie side, you’re non-binary.
Gender is such a deeply personal experience, it’s just dumb to define it for someone else, let alone the entire human species. It’s like asking to define a chair, like, you KNOW what it is but you can’t possibly define it without excluding some chairs (“has at least 4 legs”, that’s a horse also swivel chairs exist).
Sidenote: If some idiot tiktokker shoves a microphone and a camera in your face and goes “WHAT IS A WOMAN” or “HOW MANY GENDERS ARE THERE” just go along with whatever dumbass scenarios they come up with.
“How many genders are there?” “My dude, as many as you want!” “Oh so like 40??” “Yep!” “Can I identify as a helicopter lol?” “Sure, who cares, do it!” “Should I demand everyone at my job calls me a helicopter” “You can go to your local townhouse, request to change your name to ‘helicopter’ and they’ll most likely let you. You’re an adult, you can do whatever you want as long as it’s not hurting others.” “You don’t think it would be dumb of me to do that?” “Why would I care, I don’t know you?”
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jongyu/yunho; you know what time it is; R
I just think. yunho hot lol
"He's so cute," Yunho whines. He stops fucking into Jonghyun, instead just pushing all the way into him, leaning over him, holding himself up with his palms on the kitchen table. "I show up 10 minutes early to be a nice datefriend, but then you're in the shower, and he keeps flirting with me, and telling me how tall I am, and telling me how cute and little and holdable he is..." He keeps grumbling, mumbling under his breath, even when Jinki stands halfway up to kiss him hello like he clearly wants.
Coming out of the bathroom, giving his hair one last ruffle through with the towel, Jinki hears noises coming from down the hall in the kitchen. Rattling, smacking, even some thumping, maybe. Suspicious noises.
He ducks into the laundry room to throw his towel and pajamas in there, trying to figure out what the noises are. It's too early in the morning, he thinks, for someone to be trying to break in and rob them. And he's sure that if someone was trying to rob them, and it was Jonghyun in there struggling with them, they would be making a lot more noise.
And besides. The noises don't seem that kind of suspicious. As Jinki heads back down the hallway, socks sliding on the hardwood floor, the noises are sounding more and more familiar. Rhythmic, breathy, maybe some whimpering, even. Hornily suspicious.
Jinki reaches the end of the hallway, rounds the corner into the kitchen doorway, and slaps his eyes directly onto the scene in front of him, confirming his suspicions. Definitely horny noises.
It's Yunho, tall and gorgeous and handsome, dressed all nice and cozy for their movie day date, and he has Jonghyun in his hands. More specifically, he has Jonghyun bent over the kitchen table facing Jinki, elbows on the table, fingers in his hair, bangs bouncing in front of his eyes every time Yunho pounds back into him.
Jonghyun is smiling, beaming, square and dazzling. He bites his lip and lets it go with happy breaths, little squeaks, soft curses, quiet growls. His fingers pull on his own hair, letting go and then tangling in again and again. His eyes are closed, but Jinki can still tell, plain as day, that he is proud of himself. He has the smile of a winner.
Yunho, on the other hand, looks very grumpy and defeated, even as he pulls Jonghyun back and fucks in at a better angle. Annoyed, almost, frown adorable on his lips. Still, the hand that he slides up around the back of Jonghyun's neck is nothing but gentle.
Jinki rolls his eyes as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the table. Both of them, predictable as hell. Chin in his hand, eyebrows raised, he smiles at his best friend and his babefriend when they both look up to him.
"Oh," Yunho says, and he blushes.
"Hi Jinx," Jonghyun says, and he winks.
"Slut," Jinki tells Jonghyun affectionately, and then, "He finally got to you, huh?" he asks Yunho.
"He's so cute," Yunho whines. He stops fucking into Jonghyun, instead just pushing all the way into him, leaning over him, holding himself up with his palms on the kitchen table. "I show up 10 minutes early to be a nice datefriend, but then you're in the shower, and he keeps flirting with me, and telling me how tall I am, and telling me how cute and little and holdable he is..." He keeps grumbling, mumbling under his breath, even when Jinki stands halfway up to kiss him hello like he clearly wants.
He doesn't know why Yunho is so surprised about this. Jinki told him that Jonghyun would get him eventually. Jonghyun gets everyone eventually.
Once they've had their smooch, Yunho straightens back up, but only to put both hands on Jonghyun's shoulders, holding him down, keeping him still. Squeezing him, he says, "what are you whining about, little one?"
Jonghyun, who was indeed whining nonstop ever since Yunho stopped pounding him, opens his mouth, says, "you stopped–oh my fucking gosh," and puts his bright pink face into his hands. "Little one," he repeats in a whisper. For the first time, Yunho looks smug. Jinki raises his eyebrows at him; Yunho wiggles his back and starts fucking Jonghyun for real again.
Jinki leans back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair so it dries the way he likes, and watches. He's very content with this. It's not what he was expecting, when he started getting ready for his date today, but he's definitely not complaining.
But he does worry about something, though, very suddenly, when he notices Yunho's nose twitch the way it does when he's just starting the final stretch towards orgasm.
"Hey," he says, reaching across the table, tapping it to get their attention. Yunho doesn't stop, but he does look up, curious; Jonghyun holds his hand. Jinki puts what he was about to say on hold, just for a moment, so he can kiss his best friend's hand. Just because he knows it'll make Jonghyun's eyes turn into little crescents. Then he looks at Yunho. "Don't nut in him," he says, pouting. "Save it for me." And he smiles, mischievous, tongue at the corner of his lips.
Yunho rolls his eyes. "Babe, you literally just took a shower," he sighs.
"So what," Jinki says dismissively. Who cares. "I'm not going anywhere today. It's my house." He slaps his hands petulantly on the table. "If I can't be a cummy gremlin in my own home then what am I even paying a mortgage for?" he demands.
"He has a point,” Jonghyun says. He turns to look at Yunho over his shoulder, a defiant little set to his square jaw. Jinki almost smiles–almost feels all soft and gay inside that his friend is standing up for him for important things like this - until Jonghyun gasps dramatically and immediately starts backtracking. "No, wait, no he doesn't," he says quickly. He lets go of Jinki so he can push himself up with his left hand, and with his right, he holds onto Yunho's wrist. "He just took a shower, you're right. Cum in me instead." He smiles up at him through his lashes at full power.
Before Yunho even replies, Jinki deflates onto the table, defeated. There's no winning against that smile.
He'll just have to get nutted in sometime later today instead.
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