YOU

17 | bisexual | cis woman

she|her|hers

ravenclaw | house martell

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watching: oitnb (season 1)

reading: the goldfinch by donna tartt and
emma by jane austen

CARRYING


blogs about:
mythology, fandoms, feminism, racism & lgbt+ issues

UNIVERSES

this blog is basically an achilles/patroclus fan blog

TESSA GRAY IS QUEEN ♛

sapphicscience:

#stop acting like bisexual women’s lives revolve around men 2k14

yoshio-yoshida:

Oh my god youre straight? I had no idea. You seem normal to me. Did you know that Sara is straight to? You two should totally hook up. I cant believe youre straight. You could be my straight best friend. We could go to football games together. Itll be so much fun. So like how long have you been straight? Youre whole life!? No way.

i love how cassie mentioned how tessa had always been a tall girl and that jem was taller

because I remember so vividly from clockwork angel tessa thinking about her height and her aunt telling her that any woman no matter how tall could look graceful depending on how she carried herself or something like that

and cassie including little details like that which ties back so well into tid is just so beautiful

After the Bridge Part Four

cassandraclare:

A story for those who might have wondered what Tessa and Jem did after they met on Blackfriars Bridge in the epilogue of Clockwork Princess.

Those who do not like Tessa&Jem together or Jessa sexytimes probably should skip this. (You will not miss anything that will affect your understanding of later books.) Those who like that sort of thing will find this the sort of thing they like.

After the Bridge alternates POV between Jem and Tessa. It will be posted in installments. This is Part Four. It is not the whole story. There are more parts. As this is one short story and not chaptered, each post will contain the whole story from the beginning up to the point where that part ends so that new readers or readers who don’t remember what happened won’t have to hunt down the previous post(s.)

[Also just a personal note: since starting to post this, I’ve been bombarded with requests to write Clace, Malec, Sizzy, Wessa, Jemma, Jordelia, ships that don’t even have names, etc short stories. I usually turn down requests to write short stories for published anthologies because I don’t have time — I really don’t have time to write a ton of short-story-length outtakes. I’m writing this as it grew out of a discussion with Holly Black and Kelly Link about romance shapes and sat on my head and demanded to be written. When that happens again, I will happily post what I write because I like to share free content. But I do need to focus on TLH and TDA right now, and nothing else is calling to be written. In other words, and I hope I am saying this the nicest possible way, I can’t take requests. We will all just have to see if inspiration strikes and hope it isn’t Mortmain/Benedict “The Worm” Lightwood.]

Meanwhile, definitely an R rating below. I admit I don’t really understand the rating system. SEXY TIMES. These characters are consenting and 135 years old, but I would probably keep the story away from kiddies.

AFTER THE BRIDGE PART FOUR 

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floozys:

it’s so weird that men can make endless misogynistic comments and not have to reassure people that they don’t hate women but when women, especially those in the spotlight, talk about things concerning women they feel an overwhelming need to constantly reassure the world that they don’t hate men, that they love men. 

and by weird i mean a cultural norm to demean women and overvalue men. 

Don’t look up, my love, there’s no war here. The girl on the train works with the peace corps and hanging right next to her backpack is bright pink mace.

Close your eyes when you get home, carry your mother’s best knife with you into the shower. Hold it in your shaky palm. Wait for your family to get home, keep it where you can get it, have it pointed in front of you like the prow of a ship. Cleave the air, wait for the moment when out of the closet or under the bed a man will grab you and use your empty house as an invitation, as asking for it.

Lock your car. Check the backseat before getting in. Don’t sit too long in parking lots. Don’t break down on the side of the road. Don’t get in a vehicle with people you don’t know. Don’t stand up straight, don’t hold your head up high. Don’t cry where someone could see.

Have 911 pre-dialed. Carry a pocket knife the way your brother does. He plays with his because he is a boy scout and he might have to use it. Yours is a weight and you are terrified for the day you will have to use it. Don’t panic when men stand too close to you, don’t breathe too deep, don’t look them in the eye - but don’t look weak, don’t look vulnerable, don’t show that you’re scared, but be scared.

Don’t marry him if he’s mean to his mother, if he’s mean to dogs, if he’s mean to waiters. It’s your fault if he is cruel, you should have seen it coming. Don’t kiss him if you’re drunk and not looking to follow up. Don’t give him the wrong idea. Don’t love him, it’s clingy. Don’t spurn him, it’s heartbreaking.

Let him catcall you from the safety of his four-wheel drive, don’t flip him off. Think about the girls that have died on the edge of the road. Let him trail slowly behind you so that the crunch of his tires matches the grind of your teeth. Get inside whatever building you can find. Hope the car doesn’t loop back around and follow you later. Sooner or later, one of the cars is going to loop back around and follow you later.

Don’t call yourself a feminist, you will become sick of explaining that you don’t hate men. Don’t call yourself a feminist, it’s seen as an attack. Don’t call yourself a feminist, you will hear more slurs against your person than if you had said you wanted to kill the president. Don’t call yourself a feminist, it’s dangerous to want something for yourself. Don’t call yourself a feminist. Hold fast to the idea that girls of all shapes and sizes and colors and bodies deserve the same things as everyone else, fight for it quietly - but don’t call yourself a feminist.

Don’t be like other girls, whatever that means. Don’t be one of those plastic girls. Don’t be one of those gamer girls. Don’t be one of those band geeks. Don’t be one of those hipsters. Don’t be one of those fangirls. If you can, don’t be.

Don’t look up. Don’t breathe. Don’t think. Don’t worry, my love, there’s no war here. It’s in some far-off distant country.

Nothing to see here (part one) /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

bisexual women of colour are beautiful and amazing and flawless and you will never convince me otherwise

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