Have you ever seen a twitter thread (or, in this case, two!) that so perfectly expressed everything you’d felt over months and months of harassment persistent? With all credit to @blackblobyellowcone, who is clearly amazing and completely gets it– not just why us women write and read the erotica that we do, but the history behind the censorship we, as a gender, have experienced. Bravo.
Here are the inaugural TEN weapons in my ORIENTATION & GENDER ARMORY series! Each weapon was designed using the flag of the orientation represented for inspiration!
If you want to pick up some sweet D&D/weapons enthusiast/not-just-another-flag-on-a-shirt-related pride gear, check out my redbubble here! I also have an Inprnt if you’re interested in that!
Stay tuned for info on new merch soon! Hope you love them as much as I do!
“My favorite desk jockey!” Lucy leans against Alex’s desk, grinning widely. Alex glares at her, but her glee doesn’t fade. “Why the sour look?”
Alex says nothing, but the screen behind her shows Supergirl doing some hefty damage to an alien. Lucy shrugs, knowing full well what Alex would prefer to be doing at that moment in time. She also knows better than to ask if the redhead has taken some medication because of course she has.
“Bad day?”
Alex nods. “Left leg this time.”
“Ouch.”
This prompts a laugh from the otherwise morose agent. “Yeah.”
“You’re antsy, aren’t you? All that energy and nowhere to put it, huh?”
“Well, yeah.” Alex slumps against her arms and frowns at the DEO agents swarming the now disabled alien. “I was so good…”
“You still are.” Lucy smacks her shoulder. “Self-deprecation isn’t sexy, Alex.”
She perks up, curious. “Huh?”
“All I’m saying is that there’s other ways to get that energy out.” Lucy winks and walks away. “You know where to find me.”
Alex isn’t sure that really happened. She stares after Lucy and tries to calm herself before Kara gets back to base, but she’s unsuccessful. Had Lucy basically invited her to have sex? Did she want that? Well, that’s a silly question; Lucy has a smile to die for, and she’s literally one of the only people who can keep up with her.
“Al, are you okay?” Kara swoops to her side, touching her right elbow.
“Fine!” She answers a bit too high-pitch and clears her throat. “I’m fine. That was some nice work bringing that alien in.”
Kara shrugs. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding with a mean uppercut. I wish I could have been there with you. I could have helped.”
“I know. And when you have good days, you totally will again. And even if you’re at the desk, you’re doing important work, y’know?”
“Is this a repeat of senior year, seeing the results of the musical auditions? There are no small parts, just small actors?”
Kara slips her arms around Alex’s shoulders. “Something like that. But really. I don’t care what you do as a job. You, Alex Danvers, are important, especially to me.”
“Thanks, Kar.”
“So, what had your heart racing so fast?”
“Uh, I think Major Lane might have been flirting with me?”
“She has been for the past year,” Kara replies. She shakes her head and sighs. “But I’m glad you’re finally noticing.”
When a man starts
explaining a concept you already told him you understand,
instead of saying “I know” over and over until you die, try one of these:
Ok, which aspect is confusing you?
It seems like
you have the basics down; Would you like me to recommend some good articles so you can get a more nuanced understanding?
So did
you have a specific question, or do you just want a more in depth
explanation?
SAVAGE
teacher-zone him
My cousin is an asst psych professor. Her new boss brought up how male students sometimes challenge female professors. He asked how she handles that: she says ‘hold on: let me take notes’, grabs a pen & paper, and proceeds to take no notes. If he asks why, she says ‘Tell me something I don’t know & I’ll have something to write’; no student has tried twice. Her boss laughed and asked her to mention it at the next staff meeting.
I love giving and receiving fic reviews, but for a long time the whole process of writing a review used to be very fraught because I wanted to show my appreciation but I didn’t want to leave a generic “Loved this, please write more!” like every other comment the author had already gotten and was probably sick of. (Note – as an author, we do not get sick of these comments. We do not get sick of any comments.) But I figured something out a while ago and I figured I’d share it. How to leave a good comment on a fic: PICK A LINE.
Literally any line. Pick it as you’re reading. If a phrase or a sentence or a paragraph jumps out at you, highlight it and hit Ctrl+C. Then save that puppy until the comment section, paste it in, and let the author know why you liked it.
“___” My favorite line, it was hilarious!
“___” I’m gonna cry! Poor Character B!
“___” That is totally something Character A would say.
“___” omg this totally sums up their whole relationship, doesn’t it?
I’m a writer who is friends with a lot of writers. I have never met a writer who didn’t fucking love this. Worried that you’re not leaving a comprehensive review? It’s okay. Tell the author about the five-word sentence that you loved in their 10K word fic, and they will glow. I’m telling you this is foolproof. Take the stress out of commenting. Pick a line. Make a writer’s day.
if you dont have me on facebook you are probably not missing out on any posts but the comment section is important too lmao
I went to the Renaissance faire dressed as a warrior. I had a real sword with me, too. I was standing (in character) next to a sword-fighting ring, where kids of all ages got the chance to pick up a sword and challenge the champion. Some woman walks by, with her little girl. The girl starts walking towards the ring, saying she wants to fight. But the mom pulled her away hella sharply, and was like, “That’s for boys.” You don’t want to be a BOY, do you?” And the girl looked around and saw me. I think she thought I was a boy; I had my hair in a ponytail, and was wearing a hood. So she comes up to me and asks me, “Do you think girls can be fighters, too?” And her mom looks like she’s silently gloating. Like she thinks I’m going to say no. So I take off my hood, untie my hair so that it flows freely, and kneel before her. And I’m like, “Milady, anyone can be a fighter.” I swear, the look on that mother’s face made my day.
This post was good but then it got better
Okay, this is a slight topic diversion, but in response to the above comment. I’ve volunteered at the CT Ren Faire for years now. For the last 5 or so I’ve worked in the game section, and we have a game similar to the above comment called “Smite the Knight”. I’ve been in the ring before, it’s a ton of fun getting to run around with the kids. The main goal is entertainment. Have a good shtick, keep the crowd engaged, and let the kids have a good time.
In both work and observing, I have learned something about kids. A lot of parents try to get their boys to go fight. Of the young ones that do, they tend to be shy. You get the ones who just swing the boffer swords around with no regard for life, but, mostly, they’re reserved. It’s adorable. I mean, they’re kids.
But the girls. THE GIRLS. Holy crap. I swear, the pinker the dress, the more taffeta and glitter…the more intensity. I remember, the first year I worked there, one girl came in, grabbed the biggest sword she could, and WENT TO TOWN on our knight. Lifted it over head, let out this primal scream and mowed him down. Homeboy is 6′2″, she was FIVE. And once he was in the fetal position (He was fine. It was for show.) on the ground, she stopped, put her foot on his chest, and yelled “I AM A FIERCE PRINCESS!!”. Later in the day when she walked by a couple of us yelled “Ah! It’s the fierce princess!” and she stopped and flexed. It was the best, and I will never forget that girl.
OH MY GOD IT’S BACK YES
This has improved since last I reblogged.
I taught karate for like 5 years, and the girls were always, pound for pound, better than the boys. Even the girls who didn’t really want to do it and were only there because their parents made them were better than like 95% of the boys.
I was playing fiddle at a ren faire, and two little girls were really enjoying our set. After quite some time one of them walked up to me and shyly offered me her star tinsel tiara, because she “didn’t have any money. And this protects you from trolls!” I said “Thanks, that’s really sweet – but what about you? Don’t you need protection from trolls?”
At which point this six-ish-year-old girl whips out her certificate from the axe throwing booth and says “Nah, I’m fine.”
I still have that tinsel tiara. It’s draped over my modem. I figure it’ll protect me from the most trolls that way.
Question of Smoke 