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#with one woman of course
geezmarty · 3 months
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A kiss at long rest may be quite continental 💎✨
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blujaynoodles · 6 months
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if a satyr met a centaur would it look like this or like this
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jackklinemybeloved · 1 year
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exasperated hot women played by brennan lee mulligan my fucking beloved
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My best friend and I had a call recently---she’s back with her family for a bit helping out with some hometown stuff. As part of the stuff, she’s been going through a (deceased) relative’s scrapbook, compiled in the American Midwest circa 1870-1900 and featuring mostly cut-out figures from the ads of the day.
She talked about how painstaking this relative’s work was. (Apparently the relative was careful to cut out every finger, every cowlick; this was by no means carelessly or hastily assembled.) But she also she talked about how---the baby on the baking soda ad is ugly, it is so ugly, why anyone would clip this heinously ugly illustrated baby and paste it into a scrapbook? Why would you save the (terribly told, boring) ghost story that came with your box of soap?
(Why include these things in the first place? we asked each other. ”There’s a kind of anti-capitalism to it,” she mused.)
And we discussed that for a bit---how most of the images, stories, artists, and ads were local, not national; they’re pulled from [Midwestern state] companies’ advertisements in [Midwestern state] papers, magazines, and products. As a consequence, you’re not looking at Leyendecker or Norman Rockwell illustrations, but Johann Spatz-Smith from down the road, who took a drawing class at college.
(College is the state college, and he came home on weekends and in the summer to help with the farm or earn some money at the plant.)
But it also inspired a really interesting conversation about how---we have access to so much more art, better and more professional art, than any time in history. As my bff said, all you have to do to find a great, technically proficient and lovely representational image of a baby, is to google the right keywords. But for a girl living in rural [Midwestern state] of the late 1800s, it was the baking soda ad, or literal actual babies. There was no in-between, no heading out to the nearby art museum to study oil paintings of mother and child, no studying photographs and film---such new technologies hadn’t diffused to local newspapers and circulars yet, and were far beyond the average person’s means. But cheap, semi-amateur artists? Those were definitely around, scattered between towns and nearby smallish cities.
It was a good conversation, and made me think about a couple things---the weird entitlement that “professional” and expensive art instills in viewers, how it artificially depresses the appetite for messy unprofessional art, including your own; the way that this makes your tastes narrower, less interesting, less open.
By that I mean---maybe the baby isn’t ugly! Maybe you’ve just seen too many photorealistic babies. Maybe you haven’t really stopped to contemplate that your drawing of a baby (however crude, ugly, or limited) is the best drawing of a baby you can make, and the act of drawing that lumpen, ugly baby is more sacred and profoundly human than even looking at a Mary Cassatt painting.
And even if that isn’t the case....there was this girl in [American Midwestern state] for whom it was very, very important that she capture every finger, curl, and bit of shading for that ugly soap ad baby. And some one hundred years later, her great-something-or-other took pains to preserve her work---because how terribly human it is, to seek out all the art we can find that resonates with us, preserve it, adore it.
It might be the most human impulse we have.
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bruciemilf · 6 months
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Bi-Han wifed up the baddest bitch in Outworld (she can't fight her way out of a lunch bag and she's God's favourite idiot)
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rachedurst · 4 months
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anyways i love you people that are both gay and straight, in whatever way that presents. being nonbinary often can mean a complicated relationship to sexuality and how one perceives it within the societal restrictions of homo and heterosexual, and i think bridging those definitions and having "contradictory" labels like lesboy or whatever is really cool. i support and stan he/him lesbians or butch lesbians or she/her gay men or femme gays or she/he pronoun users and whatever else, be it cis or trans or both. if you feel like youre both cis and trans that also rocks. dont let people force you back into a binary within the queer community, stay strong!
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diamondsheep · 6 months
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your honor .. I LOVE THEM 💚💛 !!!!
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Pretty Green Swordsman and Beautiful Samurai Woman my beloveds 💚💛
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felicitywilds · 11 months
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uhh??????? UHHHHHH????????
left is sapphria's art from COC, and right is the Fellowship's insignia from a piece of art by @nanaluvbug
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a1sart · 2 months
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NO BUT HUSK USED TO BE AN OVERLORD? THAT'S SO FUCKING SICK TELL ME MORE!!!!
what's his relationship to the other overlords? do they know that Alastor owns his soul now? What do they think of him? What was his rise to power like? Just HOW powerful is he actually? What is he holding back if he's holding back at all? Did he lose that power or does he still have it? How long was he in power for? Was his rise and fall quick? Is that why no one at the hotel seems to recognize him?
Angel says he isn't one for politics in the pilot so it makes sense why he wouldn't know but what about Vaggie? She seems like the type of person to keep track of that kind of thing. Did he rise to power and then lose it before she arrived in hell? Or does she recognize who the man behind the bar used to be?
And what about products he could have made? Are there old playing cards with his face on them scattered around hell? Poker chips with his branding on them? Abandoned casinos with his name on the sign? Slot machines with dapper little cats on the casing?
How does HE feel about his time as an overlord? Does he miss it? Does he regret it? He regrets gambling his soul away but if he could go back and change that, choose not to gamble with his soul, would he quit while he's ahead or continue to be an overlord? Did he himself own any souls? What happened to them after Alastor got his? Would Alastor own them too?
All questions that could be addressed in the show, but honestly I doubt they will be. We only have 4 episodes left in the season and they're not gonna spend all that precious time on Husk's backstory, no matter how interested I am by it. We might get one or two questions answered though and I would consider that a win :)
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aurpiment · 6 months
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tlhod’s Gender Situation as written in 1968 (published in 1969) was about a man from Earth who goes to another planet inhabited by alternate-bio ambisexual humans who are completely like Earth humans in every other respect. The man from Earth at first expects them to be like men in a way that’s recognizable to him, and that expectation causes him some struggles in relating to them, but he then comes to accept them on their own terms.
An updated look at that Gender Situation might be about a nonbinary person from Earth who goes to another planet inhabited by alternate-bio ambisexual humans who are completely like Earth humans in every other respect. The nonbinary person from Earth at first expects them to be like nonbinary people in a way that’s recognizable to them, and that expectation causes them some struggles in relating to them, but they then come to accept them on their own terms.
Mutatis mutandis since “nonbinary” is a way, way broader category than “man” (hello multigenders I love you) but people who have never heard of gender are going to have a different, for lack of a better word, thing going on than someone who is familiar with a gender binary and has rejected it.
(I also think having a normal earth queer person interact with members of a fantasy gender/lack of gender would be interesting. Real deal meets metaphor. It’s like if an actual trans woman met Jadzia Dax.)
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pastafossa · 2 years
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“It’s... Really Yellow?” (Matt Murdock x f!Reader, Fanfic)
Ok so in honor of ALLLLLL the good Charlie news today and us getting a little more of him in the red and yellow suit in the trailers, I’ve decided to finally pull this little drabble out of my folders and finish it since I’ve gotten some requests about what The Red Thread!Reader’s reaction would be to Matt’s new suit. You do NOT have to have read TRT to get this, it’s just a nice bonus (and for those who DO read it, just know this is set *waves* in their future).
Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Rating: Mildly NSFW at best. There’s some suggestive stuff, lots of innuendo, but no sex or anything.
Summary: Foggy needs you to help him convince Matt that red and reflective yellow are ridiculous colors to wear as a stealthy Devil. Unfortunately for Foggy, Matt knows exactly how to convince you otherwise.
Wordcount: 2,942
Warnings: innuendo, language, Matt turning the Devil voice on you, bad use of puns, Matt’s ability to look good in literally anything
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“Look at me,” Foggy said fiercely, pointing at your eyes and then his. “You can’t forget what we talked about when he shows up. Ok?”
You scoffed where you’d leaned up against the humming a.c. unit, relaxing on the rooftop as you both waited. At least it was the rooftop of your and Matt’s building. There were far less things to worry about up here. “Of course I’m not going to forget. That’s ridiculous.”
“Good. Because it’s—I don’t know how you missed it last night—”
“I told you. I was asleep when he came in, and he had to leave early this morning for that case.” You rolled one shoulder in a shrug. “I knew he was going to pick up the new suit last night, and I tried to stay up but passed out on the couch. Woke up in bed when he kissed me bye before work. I figured he could just show me tonight when he was done with his patrol.”
“Yeah, see, that’s my point,” he said quickly, absently shaking out one foot. He was probably trying to keep himself awake. It wasn’t often you both tried to stay up for the moment Matt came back from his circuit around the Kitchen. There had to be at least one person who kept normal human hours. “It should have woken you up. You wanna know why? Because it’s—”
“It’s yellow, I know. You’ve said.”
“Yellow!” Foggy thundered, flinging his hands up towards the sky in an apparent show of outrage. “Yellow and red, ketchup and mustard! How is this stealthy unless you’re disguised as a hot dog? He’s-he’s reflective! This is anti-stealth, and he already gets into too much shit when he is stealthy! He should have woken you up like a yellow disco ball or a mustard torch!”
“What even is a mustard torch?” you mused.
“A mustard torch is what he is now,” Foggy groaned, reaching up to scrub at his face. “It’s absolutely ridiculous. ‘Why not black?’ I asked. Do you know what he said? He just blinked at me like he was shocked and said, ‘but I’ve already done black twice, Foggy.’ That’s what he said!”
“I mean… he has, though, so...”
“Listen to me.” Foggy tapped his temple, trying to psych you up. “No getting distracted. He’ll try it. He’ll use every trick he has on you. You’ve seen him in court. And you are our only tiebreaker. Karen’s staying out of it, Jess just mocks every suit he wears, and Spider-kid is too innocent to bring into this. You need to hold the line. You’re the only one who can talk some sense into him about the hot dog colors. I need reconfirmation you’re with me on this. We need to be a united front.”
And granted, you hadn’t actually seen the suit yet since Matt had only gotten it last night and despite your best efforts, you’d unfortunately fallen asleep  before he’d gotten back. But from what Foggy had said, it did sound… a little silly. It was red and yellow—and not just yellow, but apparently a reflective, gleaming yellow. Matt wasn’t exactly the best judge of color, obviously, but surely even he’d realize that painting himself like a reflective road marker would make the whole sneaky devil thing a whole lot more difficult. This was smug. It was cocky. It was…
Alright, so maybe it was just like him, but still. That was what you were here for. You’d be able to tell him he’d gone a little over the line again.
“Trust me,” you told Foggy firmly, nodding your head. You even widened your stance and crossed your arms, determined to stand strong. “I’m on your side.”
“Thank you! We can teamwork this, ok? So he comes, you see it, you point out the obvious, we get him a can of spray paint or something. Literally, any other color as long as it’s dark. I’d take fucking dark blue at this point, I’d take grey, anything but that ridiculous—”
The sudden burst of warmth inside your chest was the only warning you had before you felt the rush of a breeze overhead.
Years ago you might have ducked, but you’d gotten used to it by now, and instead, you barely blinked as Matt’s acrobatic leap carried him over you. The second he'd passed you, he twisted in the air, the movement transitioning into a smooth roll as he hit the ground. The rise to his feet was just as smooth, just as clean, the finish progressing in one fluid motion as he spun to face you before standing still to await your judgement.
“Theatrics!” Foggy barked, poking Matt’s arm. “That’s cheating, and you know it.”
“She needs to get the full effect,” Matt said defensively as Foggy poked him again, and…
Oh, you thought, your eyes sweeping down.
It had been a while since you’d seen him in anything like his first Devil suit, but you remembered fondly the way all that tough leather and strange fabric had drawn your attention to his broad shoulders, the powerful thickness of his thighs, and the endless breadth of his chest. This new suit looked much like the last in shape and in form despite a few obvious and less obvious changes—and if anyone besides Matt would know, it’d be you, since you’d stripped him out of that old suit often enough. And goddamn if you weren’t being reminded once again that Matt Murdock was always a five-course meal no matter what he chose to wear.
Your five-course meal.
“You are literally the color of a highlighter, that’s the only effect she… hey. Hey! Look at me!”
You darted your eyes guiltily back over to Foggy, breathing a little more quickly. “Yup, looking at you. I am focused.”
“The yellow!” he said quickly, jabbing urgently at Matt’s mask. “Remember what we talked about. Ok? Stay strong.”
Matt hummed. “Have you been tampering with the witness, Foggy?”
“It’s called preparing the witness. I’m not about to let you pull your Devil mind tricks on her.”
Right.
The yellow.
You could look at him and think about just the yellow.
Matt fixed his attention once more on you when he sensed your gaze return. And ok, so the mask was different. The dark, opaque eye lenses of the mask seemed an almost liquid-black in the low light, endless pools of shadow that saw right through you, saw into you beneath skin and bone, fathomless eyes made all the more startling when set within the gleaming, burnished gold of the full helmet. Because it was gold, not yellow, but gold: rich, rough as if weather-beaten, and luxuriously, dangerously warm, and yes, maybe also abso-fucking-lutely reflective, it was true. It would draw attention, maybe too much. But it… it wasn’t as bad as you’d thought, was it? Somehow, it still managed to look dangerous, like something belonging to a wild, untamed thing that you just wanted so foolishly to touch—
No, no, you needed to focus.
Matt parted his lips the slightest bit, drawing the air in across his tongue on a slow inhale. He swallowed, once, as if savoring the taste. And then…
The corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk.
“Stop it with the sniffing and tasting thing,” Foggy snapped. “Seriously, she’s not gonna fall for that.”
Matt let his head gradually tilt, his chin tucking down. You knew that look. It was the look of a predator, the motion confident and dripping with intent, with knowledge of what was around him. It was how he hunted, how he hunted you, and your heart skipped a beat on instinct, a reaction far beyond your control. He opened his mouth bit by bit, drawing your attention to his full lips, to the curl of his tongue as he shaped the word.
“Don’t you dare, Murdock!” Foggy bellowed.
“Sweetheart,” Matt purred, his smooth voice nothing but warm smoke and a low, throaty hunger.
“Shit,” you groaned as your knees went weak, your body flooding with heat. It was that voice, damn him: that rasping Devil voice you always swore you could feel drag along your skin like a physical thing, like torn strands of silk, like the burning brush of his mouth and the heat of a flame. When combined with that familiar silhouette and the smooth motions of his body, there was little hope of resisting. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“The color!” Foggy shouted, throwing his hand in front of Matt’s face as if it would break the spell Matt had cast on you just now, cast on you months ago, years ago. “It’s fucking yellow! Focus, woman!”
“I, um… it is… yellow.” You swallowed hard as Matt dragged his tongue across his lips, trailing his fingers smoothly along the billy clubs at his hip. In fact, the rhythm his fingertips took up looked more than familiar enough to have certain parts of your body clenching. “It’s… it is… yellow, and that might be… attention-grabbing. Which is… not a good thing.”
“I think she needs to see the back,” Matt said abruptly.
“Don’t even think about it!” Foggy thundered. “I’ll throw you off this goddamn roof, I don't give a shit about your training!”
“Sweetheart,” Matt crooned. “Would you like to see the back?”
“She would not!”
Fuck.
“...Yes,” you whispered because the only thing as good as Matt’s front was his back, and you’d never seen his ass look like anything less than a five-star masterpiece that belonged in art museums across the world. “Yes, Jesus, let me see.”
“No-ooo,” Foggy moaned, dropping his face into his hands in defeat as Matt pointedly began his gradual spin, showing off his outline with a smug grin. “Jesus, woman. You’re selling your soul for an ass?”
“But it’s his ass,” you mumbled because it was. Matt had the best goddamn ass you’d seen in your life, and that glorious roundness was now cradled deliciously in tight red leather. And maybe Foggy was right. The yellow pattern along the side of Matt’s thighs was a little obvious, but it also brought out just how much muscle was packed on those thighs of his.
You needed him to get over here.
“Does no one see how obvious the yellow is? Am I the only person—”
“D, come here and let me touch your ass,” you whispered.
“I’m absolutely shocked at how scandalous this trial has become.” Matt shook his head as he finished his spin, doing his best to sound at least mildly dismayed, his mouth the mouth of a poor chaste soul who had definitely not fucked you on a church rooftop last month. “And how would your husband feel about that? I see that ring.”
“You two are literally the worst. You cannot be flirting over the ketchup-and-mustard suit. You cannot.”
“Can and am. As for how my husband would feel, he’s given me a free pass for the Devil since Daredevil saves the city on a regular basis,” you said breathlessly as you fixated on the breadth of Matt’s chest. Yeah, you could get used to the yellow. It was a lot but he’d find a way to make it work. “He’s known about my crush on the Devil for ages. So come over here and let me grope the evidence before I rule in your favor.”
Matt let out a playful growl and ran at you, catching you around the waist and throwing you up over his shoulder with ease as you shrieked before bursting into laughter. Matt quickly spun, slapping you once on the ass and making you squirm as he grinned at Foggy and you pointedly began to run your hands curiously over the suit. “Sorry, counselor,” Matt sighed. “Sounds like the verdict’s been rendered in my favor. Better luck next time.”
“You only won because you cheated!” Foggy groaned as Matt sauntered backwards towards the rooftop door. Hopefully Foggy thought that stumble was because Matt had misstepped, and not because you had, in fact, begun to grope hungrily at Matt’s ass. He couldn’t blame you. It was right there. “This was not a fair trial, and I object!”
“Objection denied. No cheating needed,” Matt snorted. “You should have known better than to put my wife on the stand.”
“I’m a weak woman when it comes to my husband’s ass and chest, especially when paired with the Devil head tilt,” you agreed. “I have not hidden this. I acknowledge my flaws.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were this weak,” Foggy scoffed, crossing his arms.
Matt spun, slapping your ass again as you shrugged at Foggy, somewhat difficult considering you were still lazily draped over Matt’s shoulder, but you did your best. It wasn’t like you minded, after all. You had a great view of Matt’s ass from here. “Sorry, Foggy. I’ll make it up to you, but I gotta side with D on this one. I rule in favor of these ass-ets.”
“Oh,” Matt sighed, as Foggy made a retching sound. “Now I’ll really have to punish you, because that was a crime.”
“How many more years will I get if I slap your ass right now as an additional crime?”
“A lifetime sentence, Mrs. Murdock. I’d advise you to think very carefully before acting.”
You pretended to think about it for all of about point-five seconds. “Done.”
Smack!
His chest rumbled against your legs as a heated shudder rolled up his body beneath you, a motion easy to track with you draped over his shoulder, with your gaze fixed firmly on the line of him. And you’d gotten him good. The texture was a little different than the last Devil suit, but you still got a nice, loud sound of it, even if nothing would compare to bare, unobstructed skin.
He tilted his head very, very carefully, his lips brushing against your side. “You’re going to pay for that one when I get you inside, sweetheart,” he murmured, so quietly you knew it was just for you.
You were counting on it.
Foggy rolled his eyes as Matt wrenched open the rooftop door, and you threw Foggy a salute. “Despite my utter betrayal, I want you to know I love you, can’t wait to see that movie tomorrow. Use the other door on your way out, we’ll be locking this one.”
“Mustard-lover!” he threw at you, as you dropped your head to blatantly watch Matt’s ass again, the door shutting behind you both.
The second you were inside, Matt set you down carefully. Then he turned and stepped into you, herding you back with the broad line of his body. You gave in happily, ceding ground as he prowled forward until your back hit the wall, a shiver of anticipation running through you.
This never got old.
Your breath caught when he dipped his head, tilting it as he listened to the sound of your body, his tongue darting against his lips as he tasted you on the air, and you swallowed down an eager moan. He swayed in closer then, tempting you, inching closer until his mouth hovered over yours. Only then did his arms rise so he could brace his hands on either side of you, caging you in. Just like that, you were trapped, the Devil looming over you in heated shades of red and gold, rich lust and glorious indulgence. “Mm, now, sweetheart, I have one very important question before we start.”
Fuck, there was that voice again, nice and low. You couldn’t resist reaching out to touch him again, sliding your hands boldly up from his waist to fan out across his chest. “Uh huh?”
“Suit on,” he purred, his lips feathering against yours with each sinful world, “or suit off?”
“Suit definitely on,” you hummed, sliding your arms around him to drag your nails down the line of his back. “Someone’s gotta break it in, right?”
He threw you a feral grin, then, the low huff of his laugh rolling rich across your skin. “Did I ever tell you I love you?”
“Every day, D. Every beautiful day.”
-x-
“Ok, but is it… how yellow is it, really?”
“I mean, you’re not mustard-colored like Foggy says. More gold. But let’s just say if you polish that helmet too much, you might cause a car accident. That shit is really reflective now that I think about it.”
“Hm. I may have to change that in the future.”
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tomhoppusdelonge · 24 days
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its so funny that my partner LOOKS like a metalhead (doesn’t listen to any metal music, he comes to gigs to support me) and people STILL ask ME if I’m wearing his shirts when I wear band merch but NOT HIM????
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a-finnish-janitor · 3 months
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I'm glad I managed to scroll past those other screenshots of this meeting I happened to come across one day, kept this a surprise for me just now! And so thoughts.
It's fun seeing them both on screen, the face and voice of Alan Wake together in game at last!
Love the lampshading of the above point, with the looking and sounding familiar.
Tom bisexual confirmed, Tim wasn't lying about him being touchy feely lol. The way he starts feeling at Darling's lab coat, just gets right up into his space.
And on that last note, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM CASPER I do not like this. I do not know why this makes me soooo nervous but it does.
But also, it will be interesting to see if anything comes of this? The whole idea of science and art combined, will Casper get out? Will Tom just use him and then leave him in whatever reality he is stuck in? Who knows!
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freenarnian · 4 months
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#hey here's my unasked-for nuanced opinion in the motherhood being a woman's highest calling discussion! don't hate me! etc.#anyway yes of course women have many callings other than motherhood!#and a woman without children is not failing to achieve her highest calling!#(her chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever btw)#however (and this is where I perhaps get a little spicy)#I do believe that once a woman has a child that child does for a certain amount of time become her highest priority as far as labor and#investment of time and energy goes#doesn't mean it will be her only job ever or the only one that matters#and what the job of motherhood looks like will vary somewhat depending on each family's needs (spiritual pride dni)#and this isn't just a woman thing because it applies to fatherhood too okay#I know plenty of good men who have back-burnered other dreams and sacrificed other desires in order to answer the calling of being a dad#and that's a wonderful and blessed thing#so in that sense I'd say motherhood (and fatherhood) IS a higher calling once you have children#I once heard a woman (after choosing to have 4 kids close together) complain that the church wasn't doing enough#to provide child care so she could get back to the ministry and missionary work she wanted to do#and the pastor very gently but firmly reminded her that her children WERE her ministry and her mission field#while they were young and entrusted to her by god (he also reminded her that it was a season of her life that would pass)#she was not happy but I was singing a silent hallelujah in the back pew#to be clear the church DID provide free babysitting for moms who needed time for bible studies and fellowship with other adults#but it was not anyone else's job to raise her kids for her so she could do the other stuff she deemed more important/interesting#so in summary: you are not required to have kids#but once you do you have responsibilities before god and your fellow man
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bonefall · 6 months
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Jesus Christ. I've never read Yellowfang's Secret and it's insane to me that what we see of Lizard is supposed to be "evil woman" like from the screenshots you posted this is really and truly someone who is being forced to bear children. Forced to care for them. Lashing out that her husband can keep doing his job and she has to drop everything to care for children she didn't want. And that horrible shit from Ragged oh my God dude.
It's SO fucked up!! That exchange with Hollyflower is HORRIFYING!!!
Like, during the Brokenkit Handoff, she's shouting about not wanting to raise every unwanted kit and how badly she hates this, only for Raggedstar to start bellowing at her to shut her mouth. He's able to "convince" her based on on "ambition" they slapped onto the character in that moment, but when you really step back and look at the context, it just reads like she realizes she has no fucking choice
She's the only queen in the nursery. There was no "saying no"
Especially not to the deputy
NO ONE cares about Lizardstripe as a person, even though she's obviously really uncomfortable about being forced to birth and raise children
"I know she doesn't want this. That's too fucking bad. It's her duty as a woman" -Sagewhisker
I can't get over it. This book doesn't treat her like a person, it treats her like a bad vessel. She's a horrible mother because she DOESN'T WANT THIS, and the narrative condemns her, even partially blames her for A BABY-KILLING TYRANT, because she wasn't happy about the situation she was forced into.
Like... jesus christ!!
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batrachised · 7 months
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inspired by the rubio quote on emily - I understand believing the LMM heroines leaving their ambitions behind is somewhat necessitated by the historical context, and I sympathize with those who would have preferred a different ending for Anne or Emily...but also (esp w Anne), I find it the line of thinking frustrating because (1) it's a false dichotomy that's (2) belied by the text imo and (3) somewhat dismissive of marriage as less than. Anne keeps writing after her marriage. She reads her poems aloud to her family and (iirc) inspires her children to do the same. Just because Emily is marrying Teddy doesn't mean she'll stop writing. The text gives us literally no reason to think that, and in fact explicitly states the opposite when Emily says that she has to write. No matter what, she has to write. If Anne, who doesn't demonstrate Emily's level of ambition, keeps writing, it's nearly laughable to think that Emily wouldn't.
What's especially frustrating is that repeatedly, LM Montgomery's stories focus on the importance of community and family in shaping, sourcing, and strengthening creativity. In Emily, it's explicitly stated that she couldn't have written her breakthrough novel if she had moved to New York and followed her ambitions as such. That's doesn't necessarily translate to romantic support, but romantic support is one form of that! Certainly, these heroines all have domestic endings; it's almost as if LM Montgomery's defining characteristic is finding beauty and power in domesticity, all while acknowledging domesticity doesn't exclude talent and ambition. Her thesis is that women can, and do, contain both. Anne can dream of handsome princes one day and publication the next because you know what--quite a lot of girls do! Emily can fiercely chase publication and long for companionship because you know what - that's the most human thing imaginable!
Acting as if marriage is an imprisonment or hindrance of some sort while LM Montgomery's heroes are marked by being supportive of their wives' talents and ambition (Gilbert is unthreatened by Anne's intelligence; Teddy understands Emily's ambition) ignores the major themes of the novels. It also fails to grapple with the historical barriers faced in a substantive or satisfying manner; it simply poo-poos the semi-requirement of marriage as the happy ending all while ignoring how radical the statements that first, women have ambitions and, second, their ideal partner would support those ambitions, were for the time.
The position also assumes that publication is the only legitimate form of success for writers, and similarly, "real" success requires recognition. It ignores the inherent value of creativity, inserts its own standards for success, all while ignoring what the heroines themselves state they want. Anne wanted marriage and babies; Emily is deeply lonely at the end of Emily's Quest and desires a companion who understands her. LM Montgomery actually directly addresses the idea that Gilbert stole Anne from her ambitions in TBAQ, and Anne laughs at the idea. For Emily, it's more understandable because she does value publication and is very ambitious, but that's where point number one comes in. Would the critics of her (admittedly rushed and slapdash) ending prefer that she stay alone surrounded by people who don't fully understand her? If anything, it's implied that Teddy will enhance Emily's creativity by providing the support she needs, and has in the past when he literally gives her the idea for her first novel, A Seller of Dreams.
I understand the cut and paste ending of "love husband marriage babies" can get to be tiring, especially when presented as the "right" path for women. I admit that the historical context - and pressure - here is impossible to ignore. After all, the examples I gave above are only legitimate to the extent LM Montgomery legitimized them; there could have easily have been a version of the story where Emily only succeeded because she moved to New York. Even LM Montgomery, as mentioned above, writes Gilbert explicitly saying that he regrets that he stole Anne's talent from the world. Sexism is definitely present in these novels. Still, the condescending tone when talking about these ending irks me. In the end, I guess I find the sainting of ambition as ridiculous as I find the sainting of marriage and babies as paths for women. One's as gross a simplification as the other.
At the end of the day as well, LM Montgomery writes slice of life novels based on the charm of rural PEI and local community. She focuses on the everyday purposefully. Complaining that she doesn't have heroines who move beyond domesticity (although really, she does with Sara Stanley) is like going to a pizza parlor and complaining when you get served pizza. Again, this only works to the extent that you agree with LM Montgomery's presentation - but there's something silly in complaining that her slice of life semi-romance novels from the late 1800s-early 1900s all end in marriage for the heroine.
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