You shot me, only to wonder why I bled out onto the dirt until I was empty.
The blood has seeped into the earth and there is nothing left for you here any longer.
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so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.
first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.
it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.
and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.
you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.
and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.
your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.
in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.
in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.
so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.
you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.
once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.
and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"
you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?
hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!
you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.
we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?
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i now understand how certain people felt when harpy eda was revealed 😳
prints here
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Sabran and the White Wyrm - from The Priory of the Orange Tree.
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some splat doodles in between doing a bigger project for an irl thing
[IMG ID: Three images of various Splatoon characters. Image 1 features Shiver and Frye in alternative detailed outfits reminiscent of their in-game outfits. Shiver is holding her fan and Frye is grabbing her own arm.
Image 2 is a few various drawings of Frye. Top left is her as the 'sitting cutely' reaction image. Top right is tiny Frye dressed as a 'portly little sailor boy' with a lollipop. Bottom left is a tiny Frye doing a peace sign and bottom right is Frye when she sits down in her splatfest performance doing the finger gun pose.
Image 3 is a page full of Marinas plus one Pearl. Left is a fullbody of Marina in coveralls and a tanktop with gloves and a wrench in her pocket. Upper right is a drawing of Marina welding on the ground and kicking her legs. Below that is Pearl and Marina doing the tongue out hands on head anime pose with the label on Marina saying 'built a pipe bomb.' Pearl's label says 'funded it.' /END ID]
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wiki was an angel
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Learning that Nightow was surprised that Trigun attracted a large female audience is so wild.
This man creates the sweetest, silliest, most tormented character to ever exist and is surprised that women like that (also, this character has wings!).
This man creates two amazingly silly and likable female POV characters and then proceeds to not sexualize them at all and does not involve them in any romantic subplots whatsoever and is surprised that women like that.
This man then creates another incredibly tormented guy and has both of his tormented men create a deep bond over a thousand pages and cause profound character development in each other and is surprised that women like that.
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hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !
{☆} characters arlecchino
{☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader
{☆} warnings 18+ content
"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.
But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.
"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.
"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.
"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"
The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.
"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.
She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.
"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.
"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."
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at least i’m self aware about my hypocrisy
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The absolute biggest thing I've learned as a trans guy: there is nothing more masculine and manly than not caring about looking or acting masculine or manly. Growing your masculinity or manhood takes time and care - you have no obligation to let the world water your garden when you can do that just fine (and you can, even if it doesn't feel like you can!)
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When did I fall out of love with you?
I couldn’t really tell you exactly when. It didn’t end with a bang, or even a whimper. It was quieter than that. It was every open silence when my heart asked you to see it. It was every broken promise, when you’d promised next time would be different. It was finding more comfort in another mans lust than in your supposed love. It was realizing you’d never even learned my favorite constellation, nor made it a point to see it with me in my favorite place that resided less than a five minute drive away. It was looking outside on a rainy day and not wishing you’d stay dry being my first thought. It was seeing something saucy I wanted to try, only to deflate when I realized you’d inevitably just shut me down yet again. It was buying a toy I’d always wanted to use with a partner and had expressed to you, only for you to be utterly disgusted when I suggested we use it for the first time. It was buying hundreds of dollars in lingerie, only to never be asked to be seen in it, and feeling horribly frumpy and gross in it once I plucked up the courage to initiate it myself. It was asking to wear matching clothes, only to be told that idea was childish and “not worth the time”. It was feeling like I had to kill certain parts of me to be lovable to you. It was silently choking myself down until I was nothing but a shell, yet still being impalpable to you. It was looking at other couples with nothing but envy, and a desire to be loved like them. It was accepting that I’d never make up for the mistakes I’d made in the beginning of our relationships. It was granting grace to you with yours when I was never afforded that same forgiveness. It was staying when you begged, only to be punished in turn. It was crying to you weekly, monthly, yearly, that I was rotting from the inside out. It was accepting that I would never be lovable to any of those around me. It was realizing that I am better off alone, and learning to love myself the way I desire since that’s all I can depend on. It wasn’t loud, though my cries were. It was quiet, soft. It was me laying my head down in my subconscious dream world, at the feet of someone who doesn’t even exist anymore. I don’t know when I stopped loving you, but it was probably when I learned I needed to start loving myself first - since no one else ever had.
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it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
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Mizu's spectacles, and the levels of her disguise
In drafting some more Blue Eye Samurai meta posts, I find myself writing out the comparisons between what Mizu can and cannot hide about herself, and how that affects how she moves through the world.
Like, I get the jokes about Mizu's glasses, if only color contacts had existed back then, etc. etc., and I think (hope) that most viewers don't take the glasses jokes seriously, as in "I don't care about the suspension of disbelief because BES is a cartoon." But I wanted to write these thoughts out anyway without burying them in a text post about something else.
I think the points I'm going to lay out here are viewed very differently by different people, so please feel free to add to this post, reply, or put your thoughts in the tags!
Not only do Mizu's glasses not actually help her that much, there's surely more to Mizu's mixed race appearance than just the color of her eyes.
In my view, this was pointed out in episode 1:
I'm willing to bet most of us were expecting young Taigen to say "blue eyes," not "ROUND eyes."
Obviously this is still about Mizu's eyes, but not even spectacles can hide their shape.
I don't think the show is obligated to point out everything about Mizu's face that isn't quite as Japanese as the people around her expect. Though the creators have said that they specifically designed Mizu - and her clothes - to read both as "white" and as "Japanese," as well as both male and female. I think there's more about Mizu's features that read as "white" than just her eyes.
This is where my own headcanons start entering the picture, but it's my impression that people can just tell that Mizu looks different, whether or not they can put a finger on exactly how.
There's the little girl who looks at Mizu and then hides on the way into Kyoto:
When there's more to your face you'd like to cover up than just your eyes, big hats are a big help!
By the way, most of these examples have to come from the first half of the season, since by the second half, either Mizu is too preoccupied with fighting henchmen, or everyone Mizu is facing knows who she is already, and she therefore has no reason to hide her mixed race identity.
It's worth mentioning that the mere fact that Mizu has to hide multiple aspects of her identity - her mixed race and her sex - results in her having to choose clothes that really, really cover her up, which doesn't win her any favors either:
(Zatoichi reference, anyone?)
If it were as easy as, for example, tying her glasses to her head and wa-lah, nobody would ever know she was half-white - then (1) Mizu would've just done that long ago, and (2) Mizu wouldn't be so on guard and on tenterhooks 100% of the time the way she's depicted in the show, even when her glasses are on.
Her spectacles sure don't help her in the brothel, which is full of observant women who are trying to seduce her, meaning they get good long looks at her:
Mizu never takes her glasses off, but they still send a woman to her who has light eyes, thinking that must be what will interest a blue-eyed man:
No wonder Mizu gets mad after this, lol
So Mizu never takes her spectacles off in the brothel, it's dimly lit inside, and the women can still tell that she has blue eyes. I'm getting the sense that Mizu putting on her spectacles isn't a guarantee that people suddenly can't tell that she looks different.
And yet no one spots that she's female.
Mizu can hide her breasts, can wear her hair in the right style, can hide what's between her legs, can walk and talk and behave like a man - and she's been doing it for almost her entire life, to the point that not only is she very good at it, but the threat of being found out as female is deadly, but isn't presented in the show as omnipresent.
Let me explain.
She threatens Ringo for nearly saying the word "girl" out loud, because while she's constantly ostracized for being mixed race, being a woman traveling without a chaperone, carrying a sword, and disguised as a man will get her killed or flogged or arrested or some combination of these things.
But in addition, it's been drilled into her since she was a child that if she is discovered as female, the combination of her being mixed race and female will identify her as someone extremely specific, someone known to some bad people, and she will be killed:
I think of it as Mizu thinking to herself, "Being found out as mixed race means I'm treated badly. Being found out as mixed race and a woman means I'm dead."
Mizu's hair is cut as a child. But she isn't made to wear a big hat, or cover her eyes somehow, or anything like that. Because hiding her sex is a more successful endeavor than hiding her race.
Ringo finds out she's female by accident, but once Mizu accepts the fact that he won't rat her out, she relaxes pretty early on in the season. Because the threat of being found out as female is mitigated pretty much 99.9%, since Mizu has gotten so good at being a man. And also, because most of the time, people see what they want to see. Even if Mizu's face makes her stand out as "not 100% Japanese," no one in the world of BES looks at Mizu's clothes, her bearing, her sword, hears her voice, and will ever in a million years conclude that she is a woman, because expectations around gender roles in the Edo period were so rigid and so widely enforced.
One detail that proved this to me is after the Four Fangs fight:
Ringo takes off Mizu's clothes so he can stitch her up, then leaves her clothes off even after he's done. He doesn't even throw her cloak over her as a blanket or anything. There's a little a straw (pallet?) as a divider there on the left, but anyone could just peek around it and see Mizu and her chest bindings. (I think it's mostly there as a windbreaker.)
And Taigen is right there, but he doesn't give a shit:
Opinions probably vary hugely on this, but my impression is that because the show doesn't make any kind of deal about Taigen being in the room with Mizu here, my guess is that Mizu isn't in any danger of Taigen thinking she's female. Even when I watched the show for the first time, I assumed that Taigen had seen Mizu out of her clothes here, and that he thought nothing of it.
Eat your heart out, Li Shang (Mulan 1998). I actually do think that this scene is a direct and purposeful side-eye to that movie, lol
There's obviously some nuance to how "severe" being mixed race is compared to how "severe" being a woman is for Mizu:
After all, Swordfather can't bear to listen to Mizu confess to being a woman.
So a Japanese man can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants in BES. A Japanese woman has limited options: marriage, religion, or a brothel. A mixed-race man is an eyesore in this story. A mixed-race woman is a death sentence.
May as well eliminate the female aspect, and do what you can about the mixed-race aspect. Because that's just realistic.
Meaning Mizu can avoid the strictures Edo society places on women. But she can't avoid the repercussions that come with being mixed race. And I truly don't think that it's just because "there's no brown contacts yet."
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Self Portrait as Mary Magdalene – Artemisia Gentileschi // Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting – Artemisia Gentileschi // Judith Beheading Holofernes – Artemisia Gentileschi // Esther Before Ahasuerus – Artemisia Gentileschi // I am not a woman, I'm a god – Halsey
for @peggyvan 🩵
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there is no better advertisement than one of your favorite artists drawing art for a fandom you're not a part of. and by that i mean i finally caved and started reading the orv webtoon
open for better quality | no reposts
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