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masterhallmark · 1 month

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Rant incoming

I feel like the problem with a lot of Disney's live action remakes (and arguably Wish) is they're trying to appeal to a crowd that no longer exists, namely the people who used to claim that the Disney Princesses were sexist.

All the interviews tend to include, "Well she's not chasing a MAN anymore" which...almost no one sees the princesses like that, anymore. Virtually NO ONE still believes the princesses are man-chasing sexist caricatures of women.

Cinderella is now hailed as an abuse victim who stayed strong long enough to get help to get out of her situation. Anyone who says she should have saved herself is basically regarded as a victim blamer. And it's very clear in the film she wasn't looking to marry the prince, she just wanted a night off. She was the only one who wasn't in line to meet him. She didn't find out she met the prince until he went looking for her!

Snow White is now hailed for her negotiation skills, ability to calm down after extreme stress (she had a moment of panic and had to cry for a bit, but who wouldn't after finding out The Queen hired someone to kill you?), and ability to take charge of a house of adult men. And again, she was an abuse victim, this time trying to escape ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. While she dreamed of her prince, it was secondary to her main goal of SURVIVAL. There are also entire video essays about how Snow White gave hope to people during The Great Depression.

Everyone acknowledges that Ariel wanted to be human BEFORE meeting Eric. We all know she was a nerd hyperfixating on humans, and also standing up to her prejudiced father.

We understand Sleeping Beauty wasn't the main character, the Three Good Fairies were, AND PHILLIP WOULD NEVER HAVE BEATEN MALEFICENT WITHOUT THEM! He literally depended on them! WOMEN SAVED THE DAY! But even then, is it really such a sin for a girl to fantasize about romance and fall for someone with corny pickup lines?

We all understand Jasmine just wanted someone to treat her LIKE A PERSON. She rejected every Prince before Aladdin because they treated her like a prize. So why did they need her to want to be Sultan? How did that make her more feminist when she already wanted to be treated like an equal and have a say in her future? Is it only empowering if you want a career in politics?

We admire that Belle, despite living in a judgemental village, was kind to everyone (even though she found the village life dull), and her story teaches girls that the guy everyone else loves isn't always a good guy. What's sexist about teaching girls about red flags? And she didn't start being nice to The Beast until he started treating her with respect and kindness.

Do I really NEED to defend Mulan or Tiana? I think they speak for themselves.

Rapunzel was yet another abuse victim who just needed a little help to get out of her bad situation. In this case, she also needed to learn that she was an abuse victim, and that what Mother Gothel did WASN'T normal, much like many victims of gaslighting.

And don't get me started on the non-princess animals.

Perdita had a healthy relationship with Pongo to the point she was open to express her pregnancy fears to him, and was ready to TEAR APART Cruella's goons for daring to touch her puppies as well as adopting the other puppies. Like, she was so ferocious the goons mistook her for a hyena! She's basically that "I AM THAT GIRL'S MOTHER!" scene from SpyXFamily if Yor were a dog. She and her husband were a TEAM.....but they made a Cruella live action to turn her into a girlboss?! The literal animal abuser!? THAT'S the woman you wanted to put on a pedestal when Perdita was RIGHT THERE!?

Duchess kept her kittens calm after they had been catnapped and was classy as heck. Nice to everyone regardless of social class during a time period where that was uncommon.

Lady stood up to Tramp when she believed he had abandoned her and didn't really care about her. She found out he was a heartbreaker and was like, "Nuh uh. No. You are not doing that to me! You put me through enough."

Miss Bianca from The Rescuers was IN CHARGE the whole movie, and was willing to risk life and limb to save an innocent child. THAT TINY MOUSE TOOK ON ALLIGATORS! And she picked Bernard to accompany her because he was the only one who wasn't ogling her. And then in the sequel SHE DID IT ALL AGAIN! I wish I were as brave as her.

Like, the public haven't accused these ladies of being sexist caricatures since 2014 (Actresses and actors don't count, they're out of touch like the rest of Hollywood) yet Disney is operating under the assumption that the public still thinks that way, hence all the "sHe'S nOt AfTeR a MaN iN ThIs VeRsIOn" talk.

The live action remakes are trying to attract an audience that doesn't really exist much, anymore, and back when it did exist, was comprised mainly of people who didn't actually watch the films. The Disney princesses are no longer seen as sexist, and feminine qualities are no longer seen as weak or undesirable.

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excalibur-gone-missing · 18 days

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Paring: jeonghan x you

Genre: fluff, 70's au, little to no angst

warnings: none, maybe a few swear words here and there

summary: jeonghan might be a cocky bastard but when it comes to you he will turn the world upside down, or so he claims.

words: 2k

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.

a/n 2: i heard a podcast and it made me want to write this fic because the love story of the two hosts was sooo damn cutee.

You knew Jeonghan from when you were literally a kid.

His father had moved to your city after a presentation from little Jeonghan on how to make a pocketknife using ice cream sticks that he learnt from his local friends, his mother mortified that her little sweet child would grow up to become a goon forced his father to change cities to go as far away from the place they physically could.

It was during his fathers pursuit for a stable Korean community in Canada’s ever-growing cities did he come across the name of your grandfather’s in the phonebook that sounded very much similar to his. Your grandfather being the trusting and kind man he was invited his father for a dinner in his house the following day and this event kickstarted a relationship between the two families wherein, his father bought a house six minutes away from yours in the small part of your city inhabited by mostly Asians.

You both had met when he was seven and you were only three, he still remembers babysitting you when you were in middle school as your parents trusted no one more than him. So, when he broke the beautiful glass table in your living room, he had skillfully blamed you resulting in a three-hour long lecture from your parents about taking care of ones possessions.

You hated Jeonghan then, you really did, so you refused to talk to him for the next almost five years.

Until you both found yourselves in a duet dance opposite to each other because it was the neighborhood talent show and it was mandatory for the kids to participate. Typical Asian parents.

To no ones surprise your dance number got a tad bit too much hype from the watchers and it kickstarted another full year of you both not talking to each other at all because of the teasing glances and suggestive remarks from adults and children alike.

The time you both talked to each other again was when it was you senior year prom at high school and your father being the overprotective man he was, did not allow you to go because according to him ‘prom is how American kids end up getting pregnant.’

He was wrong of course; kids get pregnant due to having sex but you being the soft-spoken kid you were did not have the gal to inform him that. You would rather spend the night being sad and watching Simpsons and crying about how unfair it is for your parents to not let you go and experience the night considered to rank number one in peak American high school experience.

This was the first time you saw Jeonghan as your lord and savior, which you obviously will never tell him because it will do nothing but fuel his over-the-top ego. But that day he had stepped in and talked to you father.

“It’s an experience and everyone should be able to experience it, I think you are wrong sir to take away this from your daughter,” he had oh so righteously said.

“Son, I would let her only if you take her, as I don’t trust anyone but you with my daughter.”

“So, I shall then.”

Now did this conversation shock you? Yes, it did especially your father’s response to Jeonghan, but you were not going to stir up any feminist conversation with your father right now, not when you just got the pass to go to prom.

That night was something you barely remember; it has been twenty years since then and you barely care about the overly hyped kids and the future alcoholics that you encountered that night. Now that you are wise and older, you understand your parents concern. Suzy from you class had become a mother at the prime age of eighteen, nine months later. You are thankful that your father made the wise choice for you that day.

That night from what you remember was just plain boring, you had come back at 11 to a quite house, had talked to the boy for the entirety of the night, watched the sunrise with him and at the end had hugged him thanking him for taking you to prom.

After that incident, you both had again gone onto your own ways and had not talked to each other for another year till the next family function, where you both were the only kids of the same age present as all your other friends were out of the country for college.

That weekend had sparked a friendship between you both, as you always stuck to each other’s side seeking comfort from one another as talking to anyone else somehow always circled back to your marriage and their extreme concern for your depleting eggs.

The friendship you both wove lasted a long while, throughout your college. Till one day you come back from a trip to Daegu, and he was there standing at the airport ready to rush you away from your family to the nearest Starbucks because he had some news for you.

Once in the café he informed you that he had landed the job he had been trying for right after finishing college. You were elated for him, so happy that you almost forgot to tell him about the potential marriage partner your parents had whipped up during your two-week-long stay there.

Jeonghan being the man he was asked you up front to marry him, confessing his hidden feeling for you and how the weight of them might have just decreased his height. Dramatic bitch.

You being brough back to reality told him no and stated the reason to be man you could have potentially married. He obviously told you to say no to this unknown ‘son of a bitch’ and accept his proposal.

So being the bigger person, because Jeonghan obviously refused to, you reminded him that you had never dated anyone let alone him and you will not marry a man you have not dated.

This conversation then ignited your relationship the first step of which was turning down the said ‘son of a bitch’ while telling your father you wanted to focus on your career more, which you really did. Fast forward six months and while keeping up the long-distance relation with frequent phone calls late at night because your parents might pick up the landline and eavesdrop if its during the day, while at the same time trying to search for a job near Boston went on.

On one late Sunday afternoon as you were sitting on the kitchen island sipping on coffee you got an email from on of the companies, you had given an interview to, informing you had gotten an onsite job that would require you to move to Cambridge, and you were over the moon.

So, the preparations began for your send off and again Jeonghan stepped in like the messiah he is. He is absolutely not one, you refuse to accept. The man went ahead and told your conservative father he will give up his life to take care of you, till this date you claim it will be the opposite if a situation like that befalls you both. After packing your bags, you were on your merry way to live with the man.

It took you both some time to adjust to the new settings he would be over at your place during the weekends and sometimes you would be at his. This continued for another year or so before one night as you both were laying on the bed together when Jeonghan suddenly piped up.

“I think you should see other people.”

Not understanding what he meant you turned towards the guy and asked, “what do you mean?”

“I know we will end up marrying each other, so I want you to experience dating other men too, so you don’t get to ever claim I was the only guy in your life,” he explained to you.

You had yet to get a taste of exactly how much of a cocky motherfucker you are dating, said innocently.

“But Jeonghan you are the only guy I ever dated.”

That was the end of that conversation that night before you both went to sleep, but his urging never stopped. It went on for a few days till one day your exhausted and a tad bit insecure self, lashed out at him claiming he wanted to cheat on you, and he wanted a break. So, you gave one to him.

Five years later during your sister’s wedding in Singapore was when his proposal was finally accepted. You had just arrived at the airport and yet again the man had swooped in and taken you away from your family under the guise of some kind of sound check that was needed to be done in the wedding venue.

That entire year you had a flower bouquet delivered early morning to your house with an apology letter, although the apologies lasted only for a month before you forgave the terrified man, who apologized profusely after you accepted to talk to him. Even though you did feel a bit bad after seeing him, the guy looked like he was living during the great depression.

After that all was smooth sailing and he never ever tried to upset you at all, but his playful nature persisted anyways, not like you minded that.

Your clueless self agreed to go with him and without a second thought he took you to the cables to take you to an island that was nowhere close to the wedding venue. As you were getting increasingly confused, you kept asking him where exactly you both were going. He kept deflecting the topic, so you ultimately gave up and, as another family came up on the cable car, you started talking about your flight that you took with your family. The poor man did not hear one word, he was sweating bullocks and was essentially confused why another family was in the cable car that he had fully booked for you both.

As the family got down at the end, he stopped you from doing so too claiming it is not the stop, even though it was the last one. It was then the nervous wreck of a man got down on one knee in front of asking for your hand in marriage once again, and you being so in love with him accepted to spend the rest of your life with the man.

The rest of it was history, you both had to tell your parents none of whom were shocked at all, rather relieved that you both had at last agreed to get married and be together forever.

Now ten years later and with your two children, you are perfectly content with your life. Waking up with Jeonghan beside you everyday sounds like a dream and you are happy it came true for you.

As you tossed around the bed you saw Jeonghan eyeing you in his half-awake state.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“Us,” you answer snuggling closer to him.

“What about us, huh?”

“The way you forced me to date some other guy because you wanted me to have more experience in dating,” you laughed at the memory.

“Don’t tell me about that it still haunts me till this day” he retorts with a shudder.

“Why did you do it anyways?” you ask.

“I knew I was going to marry you so I wanted you to have some more experience with dating others so whenever you have an argument I could say ‘hey remember that looser you dated!’”, he answers with laugh.

With a laugh you slapped his shoulder exclaiming, “I sometimes forget how cocky you can get!”

"How else do you think I got the permission to propose you in someone else's marriage!" he states sassily.

With that Jeonghan snuggles closer to you some more, its Sundays anyways the kids are with their grandparents and you both have all the time in the world to just bask in each other’s presence and not do anything at all.

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dark-fics-4-you · 3 months

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hi queen 🤍 the way i squealed when i saw ur post PLS

ok but umm what if your tire went flat at night and dark!rafe happens to be driving by, kinda crossed after leaving a party super late but he stops and helps you…. but plans to make you pay him back one way or another right there on the side of the road even tho you thought it was just a nice stranger doing a favor…..aldfjidoendkd

dw im seeking out help rn.

it’s okay i need to seek out help for writing this the way i did. This fic alone is putting feminism back 50 years okay sorryyyyy enjoy

Equal Exchange

Warnings: noncon, smut, reader gets assaulted by a stranger, degradation, rough sex, implied drug use, misogyny, slut shaming

“Fuck!” You hissed, slapping your steering wheel in frustration before flicking your hazard lights on.

Of all the times and places for a tire to pop, of course 1AM on a back road was just your luck.

You opened your door, examining your parking job before checking out your tires. Sure enough, the right hand rear tire had a gash in it, and was now considerably less full than the others.

With a groan, you retreated to your trunk, opening it and locating your spare. However, only then did you remember lending your jack and wrench to a friend and you cursed angrily.

How could you change the tire now?

As if on cue, the back of your car lit up as another car approached. You spun around, only to be momentarily blinded by the truck’s headlights, but you could hear the large vehicle slowing to a stop.

You nervously shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you watched the door of the truck open and a tall, blond man exited and walked closer to you.

“Engine trouble?” He calmly asked, blue eyes looking down at you kindly. The scent of weed hit your nose, and although you silently judged the guy for driving while high, you weren’t one to turn down help when it found you.

“No, my tire popped. I have a spare, but I don’t have the tools to fix it,” you sheepishly explained, crossing your arms around your chest when the cool wind made you shiver.

“Lucky I was in the area then.” He said with a friendly grin. “I’ve got a jack and a whole tool kit in my truck. I’m Rafe, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Thank you so much for the help Rafe, I really appreciate it!”

You watched as the blond got his kit and jack out, and then observed as he masterfully changed your tire. You didn’t miss the way he glanced over the stickers you had on the window there, a couple band ones and then a few feminist stickers that he stared at for just a little bit longer than you were comfortable with.

However, he was helping you out, and by the time your spare tire was on, you had almost forgotten about the way he looked at your stickers.

“Wow, I can’t thank you enough Rafe, you really saved my skin. I’m glad you were driving around here tonight when you were,” you politely smiled up at him, genuinely grateful for him coming to your aid.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His eyes lingered on yours but he made no movements to go back to his truck, instead taking a step towards you.

You backed up nervously, why was he coming closer to you rather than going back to his car? It was well past midnight and maybe your paranoia was getting the better of you, but you suddenly really wanted to leave.

“Well, it’s late so I better get home,” you started to turn away from him, but his hand flew out and clamped down on your wrist.

You whipped around to face him, crying out and wincing at the painful way his fingers were digging into your skin.

“What are you-?”

“You just said I saved your skin, didn’t you?” There was an icy edge in his voice, and Rafe pulled you closer to him, chin ticking as he looked down at you in disapproval. “I mean, if it weren’t for me you’d be stranded all alone out here for god knows how long.”

“I-I know, I said thank you, Rafe, now please just let me go!”

“What if I didn’t want to, hm? Are you going to make me?” He chuckled when your face dropped, enjoying watching the severity of the situation he had placed you in dawn on you.

“I mean, don’t you think you could repay me for sticking my neck out for a dumb bitch like you?” He held you in place with one hand, allowing the other to snake around your throat.

Your eyes widened and you thrashed against him when he clamped down around the tender skin, choking you hard.

With all of your power, you aimed your knee in between his legs, missing his crotch, but still catching him off guard enough to get him to release you.

You screamed as you pulled away from him, hoping that someone else might hear you and come to your rescue.

Stretching your fingers out to reach for the handle of the door, you had almost grabbed it when Rafe’s large arms encircled your waist, tearing you away from the door.

You were no match against his strength and he easily pushed you back before getting behind you and shoving you as he bent you over the hood of your car.

You yelped when your hips painfully dug into the metal in a way you were sure would leave bruises.

His large hands pawed at your clothes, and you hopelessly struggled in his arms. When he ripped your shorts and panties down in one movement, dread gripped your heart. You felt dizzy with fear.

Before you could even register the chill of the night air, Rafe roughly slammed your head against the hood of your car, holding it there and chuckling at your terror before hissing into your ear as he undid his shorts with one hand, “I’ve never understood girls like you. I mean, you have those dumbass girl power stickers all over your car but you can’t even change a tire by yourself. And I bet you learned that little move after mommy signed you up for a self defense course, huh? You can take all the classes in the world, but you never really stood a chance against me, sweetheart. I mean, you are so fucking stupid it’s actually adorable.”

His cruel words brought a burning pink tinge of shame to your cheeks, tears beginning to pool in your eyes.

When you felt the tip of his cock brush against your slit, you tried to move again to get away, but you were pinned down by his rough hold on your skull.

“Uh uh, Y/N,” your name sounded all wrong on his tongue, and the smug overfamiliarity from this stranger who was now assaulting you made your stomach turn in disgust. You froze when he pressed the head against your slit again, this time you were slick enough for him to slowly press the tip past your lips and into your warm cunt.

“You’re gonna stay still if you don’t want to get hurt,” his sick laugh barely reached your ears, as your focus was locked on the building pressure between your legs as Rafe pushed himself into you, painfully stretching you out inch by inch.

You whimpered as he sheathed himself inside you, trembling with adrenaline and fear underneath him. He was big, too big, and you clenched around him when he tilted his hips back before snapping them against your ass.

“Fuck, Y/N, I thought I wasn’t gonna get any tonight after that party turned out to be so lame but shit-” he groaned before slowly starting to push his cock in and out of your heat.

“I guess I got lucky after all,” his gruff voice sent shivers down your spine and your tears only made you feel worse. Each stroke of his length was agonizing.

You could barely adjust to the feel of his thick cock dragging along your walls, it felt like he was going to split you open. The pressure between your legs had you gasping and crying out in a confusing mixture of pain and pleasure.

“God you’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he groaned. “I knew you’d be worth stopping for.”

Rafe was rutting into you faster now, enjoying the way you fearfully looked up at him through teary eyes as he took advantage of you.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying this, Y/N.” His taunting voice was punctuated by his sharp thrusts, each one rocking your body. “Why else would you be moaning like such a fucking slut?”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #rafe cameron smut #equal exchange #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader

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genderkoolaid · 2 years

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So I read this interesting post from the MensLib subreddit, about how men's issues are always blamed on men themselves and never on society. The post itself as well as the comments are a very good read in digging in to antimasculism & the ways in which feminism has failed to critically examine men's suffering under the patriarchy. For example (all bolding by me):

Here again, the problems predominantly affecting women are addressed by changing society, while those predominantly affecting men are addressed by changing men (or by telling men to change themselves). The difference is not that one approach is right and the other wrong; they are both 'right' in the sense that they highlight genuine issues, but the approach to men's problems is more superficial. When dealing with men's problems, we focus on the immediate cause, which is usually the men's failure to cope with mental strain ("he should have gone to therapy", "he should have learned to open up more"); in contrast, when dealing with women's problems, we focus on "the cause of the cause", and try to remove the systemic social issues causing the mental strain, rather than telling the victims what they should have done to better cope with it.

I think this is a great point, and something we really need to tackle. OP also goes on to talk about self-repression, comparing girls avoiding sexual harassment and boys avoiding bullying:

Boys (and men) are notorious for repressing their emotions. They have a good reason: in boys' peer groups, a failure to control your emotions is almost as shameful as a failure to control your bladder; it is a sign of weakness, and any sign of weakness makes you a target for bullying and ridicule. So boys learn to wear a permanent mask of aloof toughness to avoid inadvertently revealing any sign of weakness or uncontrolled emotion, and many keep this habit into adulthood. It is generally well recognized that suppressing emotions is unhealthy in the long run, but it seems to me that the commonly proposed antidote is misguided: boys (or men) are told to "just open up more and be vulnerable" or to "learn how to cry", as if their reluctance to show emotions were some kind of irrational emotion-phobia, rather than a perfectly reasonable, perhaps even necessary, defense against the ridicule, contempt and loss of respect that society inflicts upon those who can't keep their emotions in check in the proper "manly" way.

It's something we don't really question in mainstream feminism. Women's issues have a societal root, and men's issues are issues that men put on themselves, and therefore men just need to fix it themselves and change.

And while yes, we all have a responsibility to unlearn harmful societal teachings, just saying "men need to fix their shit" doesn't help anyone. I've been annoyed for a while at how people will react to men suffering under the patriarchy with "UGH they need to go to therapy", as if

Needing therapy is a sign of failure or a bad thing, and someone not going to therapy when they need to is them being an asshole on purpose and not potentially a sign of them not feeling safe enough to go to therapy, feeling too ashamed, not having enough money or time, etc.

Individual men getting individual therapy will solve the societal problems of forcing boys and men to repress their emotions and view themselves as only valuable if they can perform manual labor and have a lot of sex with women. It's a problem that is only perpetuated by men themselves and if they just stopped doing that, then the problem would disappear.

No self-respecting feminist would ever react to a woman obviously suffering from the patriarchy with "ugh, she needs to go to therapy and fix herself." Yes, therapy would be helpful most likely, but that's not going to actually fix the underlying cause of her issues. So why do we, as feminists, think that "men just need to fix themselves" is an okay response to societal suffering under the patriarchy?

Who does this help? Who benefits from us ignoring these issues? Why do we assume that men's experiences under the patriarchy are so one-dimensional and that we have no responsibility for unlearning our societal biases around men and masculinity?

Someone in the comments also added this quote from the "perpetually relevant" I Am A Transwoman. I Am In The Closet. I Am Not Coming Out essay by Jen Coates:

Have you noticed, when a product is marketed in an unnecessarily gendered way, that the blame shifts depending on the gender? That a pink pen made “for women” is (and this is, of course, true) the work of idiotic cynical marketing people trying insultingly to pander to what they imagine women want? But when they make yogurt “for men” it is suddenly about how hilarious and fragile masculinity is — how men can’t eat yogurt unless their poor widdle bwains can be sure it doesn’t make them gay? #MasculinitySoFragile is aimed, with smug malice, at men—not marketers.

And then another commenter left this (and referenced bell hooks' work on men!!):

"Do you agree that we tend to approach women's problems as systemic issues, and men's problems as personal issues?" Yes, and there's even a name for this: Hyperagency. Individual men are assumed to be immune to systemic pressures because the people at the top of the hierarchies generating those pressures are also men. "And if you do agree with that, do you think this difference in approach is justified, or do you rather think it is a case of an unfair bias?" It's pretty clearly not rooted in reality. The idea that billions of ordinary men aren't beholden to the social constructs under which they were raised is just plain silly. I'd blame the empathy gap, but honestly I feel like it's more than that. Patriarchy hyper-individualizes every struggle a man faces as a way to shield itself from critique and gaslight ordinary men. The motivations there are readily apparent. However, we see the same blind spot appear even in more academic Feminist spaces (taking for granted that "Feminist" spaces on social media are hardly representative of the cutting edge of Feminist thought). bell hooks once postulated that some Feminist women are deeply afraid of acknowledging how little they understand about men, let alone taking the steps to broach that gap.

Another person explained hyperagency by saying "Every single individual man is a hyper agent who is just expected to bootstrap his way out of the patriarchy through sheer force of will."

#m.#antimasculism

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mulletmitsuya · 3 months

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Toman groupchat

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, mentions of poop, mentions of homophobia (joke), mentions of men getting pregnant

Desc: here the boys discuss whether men can get pregnant or not and other shenanigans. this also very fucking stupid

Mikey: i just took the biggest shit

Mikey: you guys will not believe the sheer size of this thing like it's as big as my forearm

Mikey: makes me wonder how women give birth

Kazutora: ?

Draken: keep this shit to yourself what the hell is wrong with you

Mikey: how can i keep this shit to myself when i've already flushed it down the toilet🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Mitsuya: what does you shitting have to do with women giving birth?

Mitsuya: never mind shouldn't have asked

Mikey: well the poop tore my butt up so imagine what babies do to vaginas

Baji: this is why i'm never giving birth. looks too hard

Draken: ...you're not a candidate to do so? you're male?

Baji: what does my gender have to do with giving birth

Draken: it has everything to do with it??? what are you talking about

Baji: wow didn't know you guys were so sexist

Chifuyu: Baji-san, gender and sex are two different things...

Baji: ?

Chifuyu: sex is your chromosomes and basically what you were born with and gender is what you identify as. so since you're male, you don't have the reproductive organs to get pregnant and have a child. only female bodied people can.

Smiley: bro you're 17 how the fuck do you not know this

Baji: never been good at biology

Smiley: you don't have to be good at it to know you can't get pregnant💀

Baji: so men can't get pregnant?

Chifuyu: well if someone born as a female transitions into a man, then gets pregnant, we can pretty much say that men can get pregnant

Baji: so men can get pregnant but not males?

Chifuyu: yeah i guess

Baji: interesting

Baji: i don't think anyone's tried hard enough

Baji: i'll get a male pregnant one day, watch

Mitsuya: wtf

Draken: is the biology lesson over?

Mikey: my ass still hurts i think i'll need ointment

Kazutora: why r u reporting this to us

Mikey: you guys are my friends

Mitsuya: no ones wants to know about your bowel movements

Baji: why do you always wanna sound smart Mitsuya. just say shit or shitting

Smiley: watch, next time he'll say defecation

Chifuyu: excretion

Mikey: excrement

Kazutora: fecal matter

Draken: guys what the fuck can we not talk about this? it's fucking gross

Baji: oho here comes the fucking poop police

Kazutora: instead of his siren going "wee woo wee woo" it probably goes "pee poo pee poo" lmao

Mikey: LMAO😭

Draken: what are you a bunch of 5 year olds??

Baji: we're 17

Draken: 😐

Mitsuya: can we change the subject? christ

Smiley: i did crack for the first time yesterday. shit was crazy

Mikey: YOU DO DRUGS???? BRO

Baji: yo Nahoya what the fuck

Draken: we're not supposed to do drugs

Smiley: who's we?? i'm doing them not you🤨??

Draken: and what's Angry gonna think?

Smiley: he doesn't need to know. and i did it to impress a girl so chill it's not a regular thing

Mikey: why would you try and impress a girl with doing crack?

Smiley: she's a drug addict

Smiley: but the sex was fire tho even though she tried to kill me halfway through

Mikey: YOU'RE HAVING SEX??

Kazutora: that's not fair☹️

Kazutora: where are you meeting women?

Smiley: outside

Kazutora: oh

Draken: why did she try to kill you?

Smiley: halfway through she started choking the shit outta me while she was on top and i almost died but also it was the best nut i've ever experienced so it's a win win

Mikey: that doesn't sound appealing at all😭

Draken: that sounds like assault actually

Smiley: idgaf a beautiful woman can do whatever she wants with me and if she wants to kill me then so be it (i'm a feminist)

Mitsuya: yeah but like, she should have asked

Smiley: we were both high off our rockers

Draken: yeah i feel like she should have asked you so you could have developed a healthy sex dynamic where you both share each other kinks before hand

Baji: oho here comes the fucking sex police

Kazutora: this time the siren would be men whimpering

Chifuyu: why men?

Kazutora: i don't think Draken would use women moaning cause of how the brothel might have traumatized him i think and he respects women too much

Kazutora: also he's gay

Draken: fuck off i'm not

Draken: and Baji say something else i dare you

Baji: what are you gonna do? have sex with me?

Smiley: you're all taking this way too seriously😁

Baji: with what Kazutora said, i'ma start blasting whimpering audios when i get a car

Mitsuya: i'm pretty sure that's illegal or something

Smiley: dawg no one wants to hear that

Baji: who wouldn't want to hear men whimpering?

Baji: especially the high pitched ones

Baji: cause you can associate them with twinks

Baji: with dual coloured hair, jingly earnings and large unsettling eyes

Baji: and maybe even a blonde with an undercut and big blue cow eyes

Kazutora: Baji what are you on about

Chifuyu: wait are you being serious or is this a joke Baji-san 😂😂😂😂

Draken: uhh

Smiley: i keep hoping you being gay is a joke but then you say shit like this

Baji: why

Smiley: i'm not fond of gay people

Baji: homophobia's got you missing out on some good head

Draken: we support and respect all identies, Smiley. don't make this a problem

Smiley: i'll ask again, WHO'S WE?

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers manga #tokrev #tokyo revengers smau #tokyo revengers texts #tokyo revengers groupchat #toman #tokyo manji gang #sano manjiro/mikey #ryuguji ken/draken #matsuno chifuyu #baji keisuke #mitsuya takashi #hanemiya kazutora #kawata nahoya/smiley #i didn't know how to end this😭#also idk if i gave all the appropriate warnings so if i didn't lmk #and i made this when i was on that zaza #it's pretty evident

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beyondthesefourwalls · 3 months

Text

An Aviation Special

Summary: You had always wanted to experience Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but when it starts to go sideways thanks to your travel companions, you fear the whole trip, maybe even the whole city, has been ruined for you. But then a handsome stranger swoops in when some drunk idiot gets too handsy, and your night takes an unexpected turn for the better.

Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Fluff galore, language, drunk idiots and handsy men, mentions of flashing.

Notes: Written for @thedroneranger's pick your poison challenge, with a Mardi Gras board of my dreams.

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You were doing your best not to panic, choosing instead to focus on the annoyance coursing through your body instead. Your sister and her friends, her stupid, reckless friends, had done what they always did and got a little too wild, and while you had slipped away to the bathroom, they thought it would be a great idea to switch bars. Instead of waiting for you, they had shot a text to the Bachelorette Bead Bash group chat that you had created, telling you where to meet them. Only now you were there, and they were nowhere to be found. And to top it all off, your phone was dead.

“Stupid, stupid bridesmaids,” you muttered under your breath, pushing through the rowdy crowd of people none-too-gently to get to the bar. You tried not to cringe when you felt how sticky it was, immediately withdrawing your hands. “Excuse me,” you said, speaking a little louder when at first you didn’t get the bartender’s attention. He turned to you with a bored, exasperated look on his face, clearly annoyed with all the drunk tourists taking up space. “Do you happen to have a phone charger? I just need it for long enough to make one phone call, I promise.”

“No, sorry.”

You groaned as he walked away without another word, resisting the urge to stomp your foot in frustration. This was just your luck.

“I don’t have a charger, but flash your tits for me, gorgeous, and I’ll give you some of these beads.”

You turned your head to the drunk idiot standing far too close to you, a scowl on your deep purple painted lips as he shook the aforementioned colorful beads in your face. He reeked of sweat and cheap liquor and his eyes were glazed over as he leered at you.

“How about you take those beads and strangle yourself with them instead?” you snarked back, and to your disgust, the guy and his buddies only laughed. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him and taking a step to start forcing yourself through the throngs of bodies that were almost certainly violating some sort of fire code. You didn’t get far before a hand was grabbing your arm, jolting you back.

“Come on, baby, you know you want to.”

The panic was trying its best to creep up again, but the annoyance was also morphing into anger as you narrowed your eyes. You were contemplating the risk of slapping him across the face when a voice spoke up from beside you.

“I think she said no, man. But those girls over there look pretty eager.”

The guy almost stumbled in his intoxication when he turned to see where the newcomer was indicating, shouting in excitement at the view of three women standing on a table pulling their shirts up as plastic flung in their direction. Him and his friends moved in that direction without another glance at you. The bouncer of the bar was also heading their way, and you breathed a sigh of relief that not only were the guys leaving you alone, but hopefully those women would make it out of here safely, too.

“Pawning my problem off on other women goes against every feminist bone in my body,” you said, turning for the first time to put a face to the voice who had come to your rescue. You’re met with a startling pair of dark eyes and a jawline that should be illegal. His smile was warm and amused, and despite all the irritation you were feeling, you couldn’t help but take a moment and think damn.

“It seemed like they would welcome the attention a lot more than you were,” he justified, and his voice was as smooth this time as it was the first time he spoke. You gave a noncommittal hum in response, and he raised a thick eyebrow as his smile grew. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“Were you planning to?” he challenged, and you felt a fluttering in your stomach at his playful tone. You contemplated for a moment, eyes narrowed and colorful lips pursed. You could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as he stared back at you, waiting.

“Thank you,” you finally said, only a little bit begrudgingly, and the stranger nodded in satisfaction.

“You’re welcome,” he repeated. “Also, there’s a place a few bars down that has a charging station. I overheard you asking the bartender.”

"Oh my god," you groaned in relief, "are you serious?"

He laughed, the sound washing over you. He motioned for you to follow him through the crowd toward the exit. You hesitated for a moment, remembering that you were in a city you had never been in before during their busiest tourist week of the year, and you didn't know this man. But then a cheer came from the corner, and when you glanced over, one of the guys from earlier had climbed on the table and taken off his shirt, plastic beads flying everywhere. You winced and turned back, nodding once. As you made your way out of the bar and onto the bustling street, you couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he navigated through the chaos.

"I'm Javy, by the way," he offered once you made it onto the sidewalk.

"Nice to meet you," you replied, offering up your name in return. He stuck close to you as he guided you down the overly crowded streets. You tried your best to ignore the lingering unease that clung to the back of your mind, but you found that his confident demeanor made it easy. "Are you a local?" you asked.

He flashed you a charming smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I used to be," he explained. "I grew up here, but I live in California currently. But New Orleans will always be home in a lot of ways. I take it you're not?"

"No," you snorted, narrowly avoiding running into someone running in the opposite direction. Your arm brushed against Javy's as you pushed slightly closer to him, and you tried to ignore the heat that the slight touch caused. "I'm here for my sister's bachelorette party. The city had always been on our bucket list to travel to together, but then her friends decided they wanted to overtake the whole trip and make it Mardi Gras of all times."

"I take it you don't like these friends?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice.

You gave him the biggest smile you had since you met him a few minutes ago, and he was laughing before you even spoke the words. "Understatement of the century."

You go on to tell him about how they had pretty much blown the itinerary you had carefully crafted as maid of honor, including how they left to go to the next bar without you, and then not been there when you showed up. You weren't sure why you were telling a man you didn't know all of this, but it felt good to say it out loud nonetheless.

"They sound like they suck," he said plainly once you were done explaining. You let out a very unladylike snort as you agreed.

"What about you?" you asked, "what brings you back?"

"Ironically enough, I'm here for my best friend's bachelor party. There may have been an incident with a few of the groomsmen getting drinks thrown on them, and I ran into one of my cousins at the bar we were just at, so I told them I'd meet up with them once they came back out from going back to the hotel to change." He flashed you another smile, his eyes shining with a genuine warmth. "I suppose everything happens for a reason, though."

You chuckled, and he winked as you arrived at what you guessed was your destination. Javy held the door open for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Inside, the bar was as lively as the others you had been to, but the atmosphere was strangely inviting. You followed as he led you to the back corner where a row of charging stations lined the wall. You tried not to groan when you saw all of them were in use.

“Clearly I’m not the only one in New Orleans who went out without a fully charged phone tonight,” you muttered under your breath. A gentle hand on your arm had you turning your gaze to the man who had led you here, his dark, kind eyes meeting yours.

“Let me buy you a drink while you wait for one to open up.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. There was something about Javy that intrigued you, a magnetic pull that you hadn't felt in a very long time that made you want to spend more time in his company. You desperately needed to charge your phone and get in touch with your sister and her friends, so you'd be waiting here no matter what anyway...there was no harm in a drink, you rationalized.

"Sure," you finally said, unable to resist his charming smile. "A drink sounds great."

You followed him to the bar, squeezing through the crowd until you found a spot where you could lean against the counter.

As you waited for someone behind the bar to notice you, Javy leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "What would you like?" he asked, his voice tinged with what you thought was anticipation.

You turned to face him, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through your veins as your eyes met. His gaze was intense, yet inviting, pulling you into a world of possibilities. "Surprise me," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the clamor of the bar.

With a mischievous grin, Javy flagged down the bartender. You couldn't hear what it was that he ordered, but before long, two stemmed cocktail glasses filled with a vibrant purple liquid garnished with a lemon peel and a deep red cherry were set down in front of you. "Mardi Gras special?" you asked with an eyebrow raise. He laughed as he grabbed both drinks and then nodded his head toward one of the barstools at the very end of the charging station that had just opened up. You hurried over to it before someone else could, sliding onto the barstool almost clumsily. Javy made himself comfortable leaning against the counter beside your stool, facing you. He handed you one of the drinks after you had plugged your dead phone in. Making the conscious decision to enjoy your time with him as much as you could, you placed the screen face down.

"It's called an Aviation, actually."

He looked almost amused as he brought the drink to his lips. You studied him closely as you did the same, letting the flavors of the gin and lemon dance on your tastebuds.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It's delicious."

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched you intently, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flickered to your lips when you licked away a stray drop of the liquid when you took another sip. The air crackled with tension, and you had to fight the urge to lean closer to him. He cleared his throat, looking away momentarily. You tampered down the shiver that threatened to run through you.

"So why'd you leave New Orleans?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"Work," he explained."I'm in the Navy, so I've lived all over the place."

"The Navy, huh?"

He hummed in confirmation.That glint in his eyes that made you feel like you were missing something was back, and your eyes narrowed in curiosity. "And what do you do in the Navy?"

A smirk played on his lips. He tried to cover it by taking another sip of his drink, but you saw right through it. He set the glass down, folding his hands together as he stared at you. "I'm an aviator."

You paused for a beat, looking down at the purple drink before looking back at him, the joke you had been missing clicking into place in your head.

"Okay," you said slowly, and Javy was already chuckling from his spot beside you. "I see what you did here."

His laughter was loud, but not obnoxiously so, instead surrounding you like a comforting warmth. You couldn't help but join in with him, your giggles blending seamlessly with his.

The atmosphere around you seemed to fade into the background as the two of you talked, the conversation flowing easily between you. The more you learned about Javy, the more intrigued you became. His passion for flying was evident in every word he spoke, and it was contagious. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, mesmerized by his experiences and adventures. And when you spoke, he listened with genuine interest, occasionally interjecting with laughter or witty remarks. The more you talked, the more drawn you felt to him. There was something about his easy charm and attentive nature that made you feel seen and understood.

Eventually, your phone buzzed with a notification, indicating that it had finally regained some charge. Reluctantly, you flipped it over and glanced at the screen. Reading through the few messages that you missed in the chat, you snorted in disbelief. "My sister and three of her bridesmaids started throwing up at the last bar they went to."

"Yikes," Javy winced. "Are they okay?"

Your heart fluttered at the concern he showed for people he didn't even know. Damn damn damn.

"They're fine," you assured him with a small smile. "The other two have already dragged them back to the hotel to sleep it off. Guess the night is over."

You felt sad as you said the words. The night had started a shit show, but talking to Javy had turned it around. You weren't really ready for it to come to an end just yet.

As you reached to unplug your phone, Javy's hand gently clasped yours, halting your movement. "You don't need to rush off just yet," he said softly, his warm gaze holding yours. "Why don't you come hang out with me and my friends instead?"

You looked at him in surprise, shocked by the offer.

"Don't you think your best friend will be mad that I'm crashing his bachelor party?"

"Not even a little bit," he assured you. "They're all good guys, I promise."

You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated.

You knew that you should decline. Going off with a group of strangers in a city you barely knew didn't exactly scream "intelligent decision." Still, you found that you wanted to take him up on it.

Reading the apprehension on your face, Javy continued on, more eager now as he tried to convince you. "Look, as a Louisiana boy, I can't bring myself to allow you to leave New Orleans without actually enjoying yourself. You deserve to have a good time." His hand settled on yours again and squeezed gently. When he spoke, he was shyer than he had been all night. "And if I'm being honest with myself...the last thirty minutes with you have been the highlight of my trip home, and that's saying something. I'm not really ready for it to end yet."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit or ulterior motive. But all you found was sincerity and an excitement that you felt flicker in you, too. Against your better judgment, you nodded. You were tired of playing by the rules, tired of always being the responsible one. Maybe tonight could be different.

"Alright," you conceded, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Lead the way."

Javy's grin widened, and he intertwined his fingers with yours before guiding you out of the crowded bar. The night air hit you with a welcome change as you followed him through the lively streets.

His friends waited at a bar just a few blocks away. As you approached, their laughter and boisterous conversation spilled onto the sidewalk. When they saw Javy walking hand in hand with you, their eyes widened with surprise. Almost instantly, the cat calls started.

Javy rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh lightly as you leant against him. "Yeah, yeah. Knock it off."

He introduced you to each of his friends amongst their teasing. They were a rowdy group, and it wasn't hard to see how much they cared for each other. The camaraderie instantly calmed you.

It was surprisingly easy, letting yourself have fun with this group of strangers. They accepted your presence like it was nothing, involving you in every conversation and debate they had, and within a few hours, you felt like you had known them for a lot longer than you really had. The night continued on, a whirlwind of pretty purple drinks and colorful masks and exuberant laughter. Vibrant jazz music reverberated through the air, the streets full of purple, gold and green chaos. You could feel the pulsating energy of the city surging through you, and this is exactly why you had always wanted to come here.

At some point, Javy grabbed your hand, beckoning you to dance with him. You giggled happily as he twirled you. The world around you melted away, leaving only the pulsating music and the warmth of his touch. You were tipsy from all the alcohol and the thrill of an unexpected night with a man who made you feel something no one else ever has. You wished it wouldn’t have to end.

“Me either,” he said, making you realize you had said that out loud. But instead of feeling embarrassed at your slip, you giggled and leant into him further.

“I mean it,” you insisted. Javy’s smile had become familiar to you tonight, and the butterflies erupted in your stomach just as they had the last few hours when he flashed it in your direction. “You know, you’d make the perfect wedding date, if only you didn’t live so far away.”

He hummed in what you thought was agreement, but didn’t say anything. The look he gave you was contemplative, like there was something he was trying to figure out. “What?” you asked.

“When’s the wedding?”

You threw your head back in laughter, realizing what he was getting at. “Still a few months away. You’ll have completely forgotten about me by then, I’m sure.”

Javy's eyes sparkled as he pulled you even closer, his hand still holding yours tightly. "Oh, I highly doubt that," he replied, and the way his voice dropped sent shivers down your spine. "Seriously. When's the wedding?"

"The second weekend in May."

"If I'm not deployed, I'll be there."

You shook your head in disbelief as more giggles escaped, completely enraptured by this man. "Sure, Javy."

His smile softened and he raised a hand to cup your face, and you couldn't help but instinctively lean into his touch as his thumb brushed your skin. "I mean it. I want to be there. With you." You searched his eyes for a long moment, searching for anything other than the sincerity and tenderness staring back at you. You felt a rush of emotions when you found none. In that moment, looking at you the way that he was, he felt like so much more than just a stranger you met on a wild night out in New Orleans.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you raised on your toes and pressed your lips against his.

The kiss was soft at first, gentle and sweet, but it quickly deepened into something more passionate. For a moment, you hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do, but then you realized that you didn't care. You found yourself lost in him, and everything else faded away. All of the tension that had been building between the two of you that night was pushed into this one moment. You nearly stumbled at the intensity, but Javy just pulled you closer and kissed you harder. He tasted like gin and lemons and cherry from the purple drink you both had been drinking all night, and you realized it tasted even better from him.

Finally, the two of you broke apart, both panting heavily. You gazed at each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he brushed some of your hair out of your face.

You swallowed thickly before speaking, your voice trembling just slightly. "I want you there, too," you said, and you knew it was crazy, but you also knew you meant it.

A slow grin spread across his face, and before you could say anything else, Javy's lips were back on yours.

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Main Masterlist

Notes: I'm kind of feeling a part two? Maybe? I'm actually so in love with this man, it's unreal.

Thanks to @thedroneranger for the incredible banner, and to @roosterforme @mak-32 for their help, and to @sylviebell for catching an embarrassing amount of typos after I thought I was already done editing

#alli writes #javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado #javy machado imagine #javy machado x reader #javy coyote machado #javy machado fic #javy machado x you #javy coyote machado x you #javy coyote machado x oc #coyote x you #coyote x reader #javy machado appreciation

174 notes · View notes

sammysficfactory · 10 months

Text

JJK men’s reaction to you calling them a whore/slut

characters: nanami, gojo, geto, and toji

notes: if you want me to go more in depth for a character lmk!

Nanami Kento

oh em gee

he is SHOCKED

have you no shame? no decorum?

“You look like a whore when you wear your suit without a blazer.” you deadpanned.

“Excuse me?” Nanami is thoroughly confused, hoping he didn’t hear you correctly. But he did. And who could blame you?

“You heard what I said.” You shrug.

he would never admit it, but he liked it

the way you said it so outright threw him for a LOOP honey

if he were a rich woman he’d be clutching his pearls

“Don’t say it like that. Just say you think it’s nice and move on like normal people do.” Nanami rolls his eyes at you. If you looked close enough you could see a light pink dusting the tips of his ears.

you laugh at him for being flustered

but you’re a good person so you suppress it a little bit

as you call him a whore more often he gets used to it

don’t get me wrong, it still flusters the hell out of him

but he’s accepted it as part of your relationship dynamic

Satoru Gojo

i can’t even lie to you

gojo would like it

“You look like a slut in that outfit.” You say in a nonchalant fashion. Gojo smirks.

“Do I look like a slut? Or do you see something you like.” he leans forward to you, the proximity of your faces distressingly close.

if you thought his ego was big then

i can promise you it’s 10x bigger now

“You want me so bad.” Gojo laughs smugly. You scoff.

“You wish.”

the truth is you DID want him

he was in that black tee and wearing sweats😩

I CANT BLAME YOU

despite the two of you being in a relationship gojo loved to tease you like you were still single

gojo probably bites his finger every time he thinks about the first time you called him a slut

every few weeks he texts you ‘remember that time you wanted me so bad that you said i looked like a slut? i do🤭’

he be swinging his feet back and forth as he types it out

Geto Suguru

if he’s nothing else, he’s definitely gojo’s friend

he’s a good sport about it

“You look like a whore when your hair is in a bun.” Geto does a double take.

“I- what?” He’s confused. One moment you were sitting in a peaceful silence with your boyfriend, and the next you’re calling him a slut?

very confused about the train of thought you took to get to that conclusion

but after a few times he gets used to it

and his replies are definitely something

“You look like a slut in those glasses.” you say flatly. Geto sighs,

“Come slut me out then.” he says, leaning back and spreading his legs slightly on the couch.

when you hear him say it for the first time you almost caught whiplash

you for the first time in the entirety of your relationship, were at a loss for words

it was BAD

you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish bc you couldn’t find anything to say

you in fact do slut him out once you gather yourself

he’s smug asf for the next week

Toji Fushiguro

he’s shocked too

but his reaction was a lot different

“Toji, you look really slutty in that outfit.” You eye him up and down.

“Bitch?” he quickly apologizes for his knee-jerk reaction.

“Watch that bitch word, Toji! Deadass.” You narrow your eyes at him. He already knew how you felt about that word.

he saw his life flash before his eyes when he said ‘bitch’

he’s super smug too

he isn’t as bad as gojo or geto though

it becomes a running inside joke between the two of you

toji would do shit like send photos of his outfit and say ‘feeling extra slutty today’

and it might make you chuckle a little when he sends them

“You’re not going to the market with me looking like a whore Toji, go change.” you joked.

“Wow, are you slut shaming me right now? I thought you were a feminist.” He accuses you in fake shock.

“I’m getting women’s lick back.” you justify yourself.

does it sound kinda weird to other people? yes

but did you care is the real question

the answer is no

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 6 months

Text

Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 26 Somnophilia with Javi G

NSFW 18+ minors DNI. Warnings: Somnophilia, sleep sex, consensual somnophilia, Javi having dark thoughts, cnc, consensual non-consent (if you squint), Javi being a bad boy, dry humping/pillow humping, wet dreams, unprotected PiV (wrap it up folks). Let me know if I missed anything!

Thank you to @pastelnap and @beefrobeefcal for beta'ing this <3 You two are the best <3

Word count: 921

Please consider checking out my ko-fi or patreon if you want to support me!

Read on AO3

Javi is entranced; your bare ass is shoved right up against his painfully hard cock as he fights a dark urge forming in his mind, spurred on by the hard grind of your ass up his length as you move. You’ve got a pillow between your legs, which isn’t unusual, you’d once explained to Javi that you don’t like to feel the bones in your knees touch when you sleep. You’re so often such a light sleeper Javi is amazed you hadn’t woken yourself up.

No, what’s unusual is the way you’re using the pillow, grinding against it vigorously as you whine and moan freely into the night air. In the process, you woke Javi up, grinding sinfully against him as you used the pillow to get off in your sleep.

“Hermosa, are you awake?”

He breathes into your ear, he gets no answer as he resists the urge to act on his depraved desires. It’s like a sharp tingle at the base of his skull, willing him to just touch you, move his arm from around your waist to your thigh. Just a subtle shift from how you two always slept pressed to one another.

“Mi amor, you’re making this so difficult.” Javi’s voice is no more than a whisper, any illusion that he was trying to rouse you flimsy as if he wanted to stop, to wake you up and make sure you were ok he could do so. Just a simple shake of your shoulder or he could raise his voice.

But he doesn’t want you to wake up.

You’d always said he could wake you up with sex, or even fuck you while you slept if by some miracle you didn’t wake up, you were fine with it. If anything, it got you going far more than your staunchly feminist brain should allow. But here you are, unceremoniously dead to the world, and taunting him.

Just one touch, he convinces himself, will be enough. So, he slides his hand lower, rolling you a little more flat against him, spreading your thigh just enough so he can dip his thick middle finger through your wet folds. And he near comes on the spot as he feels the ample wetness between your perfect folds.

“¡Ay, Dios! Estáis tan mojado.”

He growls into your shoulder as he reaches your entrance. You’re soaked and he’s starting to care less and less about whether he should do this. He whines into your damp skin as he pushes two fingers into your willing, wet heat. You have to have come at least once with how wet you are, and that only spurs Javi on.

“Such a dirty girl.”

He mumbles as he slowly positions his tip between your parted folds, carefully removing the pillow as he hooks your left leg back over his own. He pulls you back onto his cock slowly, relishing the way you whine as he fills you up. Your walls clamp down on him at the intrusion and he has to stop himself from rutting into you like a man possessed.

He wants you to stay asleep for as long as he can. He feels guilty, there’s a delicious taboo to this, even if you have explicitly stated on many occasions that you want him to do this. He wants to bite you, such angry marks into your skin, but he can’t, not if you’re to stay asleep.

He sets a low, almost tender pace as he feels you clamp around him, walls fluttering with every stroke as he gently circles your clit.

“Come on mi amor, give me another, I know you can.” His voice is no more than a whisper as he knows he’s close. The whole scenario driving him insane as he pumps a little harder into you, panting in low groans as he’s almost there.

“Javi?” Your sleepy moan startles him and he whines in your ear as he comes hard inside you, the pressure of getting caught too much and he snaps his hips hard, pulling you down on his cock as he paints your insides with his spend. His fingers toy with your clit and you see stars as you come hard on his cock as he empties himself inside you.

“Fuck Javi!” You cry out as the realisation dawns on you, and you push back on his dick, letting him bury himself inside you as he pants meek apologies into your neck. Shame and guilt making him weak as he begs for your forgiveness.

“Ay, Papi?” You pull yourself off him, rolling over to cup his flushed cheeks with your hands, soothing him with quiet assurances as he refuses to open his eyes.

“I’m so sorry mi amor, I couldn’t help it.”

“Papi, you have nothing to apologise for, look at me.”

Javi reluctantly opens his eyes to see you grinning up at him like a Cheshire Cat.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not, that was so fucking hot, I’d only be mad,” You say with a sultry purr as you palm his softening cock, “If you weren’t going to treat me with round two.”

“Fuck.” Javi growls as you begin to pump his swiftly hardening length.

“You’re such a dirty girl.”

“Don’t you know it, now fuck me Javi, fuck me until I pass out, then fuck me again if you want.”

Javi responds only by rolling you onto your back, lining himself up at your entrance as the blood rushes to his cock at your command.

“As you wish, princesa.”

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inficetegodwottery · 9 months

Text

So. Werewolf 5th Edition.

Werewolf 5th edition sucks. A lot.

Edit- I made some errors in my initial edit of this post that were fuelled entirely by being underinformed and almost insensible with anger, disappointment, and anxiety.

Some very informative responses have been made that I intend to incorporate into a much better and less rambling post with those updates and corrections. I'll probably delete this one soon as I type that one together, so folks only see the updated version.

Sorry for any mistakes I made on this old version, again, I was in an extremely poor place mentally and thoroughly dispirited by the total butchering of what was supposed to be a less shitty and mean-spirited version of a setting I care deeply for despite its foundational flaws and 30+ year history of exactly this thing happening.

I'm still very, very angry. But it's important to be angry and correct. This post was not made by someone informed of all the facts, and I intend to correct that.

Paradox Interactive has made the brave decision to reboot the controversial Werewolf the Apocalypse setting entirely rather than try and fix it, and have somehow done a worse job than the games studio that released an RPG book titled an ethnic slur.

It's taken me almost a month since this came out to be anywhere near mentally prepared enough to even collect my thoughts on it.

Man, it is rare to see an edition of ANYTHING that pisses off old players, new players, players who want to keep the lore the same, players who want to change the lore, conservative players, radical players, and even powergamers.

How do you set out with the intention of making an infamously dated and poorly researched/outreached setting LESS uncomfortable and racist from a modern perspective.... and end up with something EVEN MORE racist and uncomfortable, but also suffocatingly tonedeaf, insincere, and deeply sinister and corporate in its erasure of existing issues rather than addressing them whatsoever.

We made the Get of Fenris irredeemably evil because some of them in the past were nazis and also nazis like Germanic mythology, so the viking werewolves are all nazis now.

Okay, I understand why you did that from a modern political perspective even if its kind of heavy hand-

The Native American werewolf tribes have been removed entirely and replaced with American Murican werewolf tribes. Renaming and rewriting them to be more respectful was just too much work! Now they're more inclusive. :)

The Irish werewolf tribe is now the Nature Werewolves tribe, like every other tribe of Werewolves also is, but also stripped completely of celtic origins.

The Red Talons are openly genocidal ecofascist malthusians and somehow NOT IRREDEEMABLY EVIL like the Get of Fenris are.

Also the feminist all women werewolves are no longer all women or even feminist. AND ALSO SOME OF THEM ARE SOCIAL DARWINISTS AND THATS SUPPOSED TO BE A GOOD THING!?!

Also we entirely dropped the themes about how forcing children to be a part of a war they barely understand while also lying to them about the crimes their ancestors committed that led to the current crisis is fucked up and evil.

Now its actually awesome to be a child soldier born into a repressive apocalyptic death cult with a siege mentality and everything is cool about that actually, you're the Good Guys, and no amount of covered-up historic genocides or internal/external bigotry will ever change that! :)

Also we solved the way people were uncomfortable with the idea that werewolf society is transitioning messily from being horrible ableist assholes that discriminated for centuries against those they view as deformed, disabled, or sexual deviants to new generations that don't care about that stuff, by removing disabled werewolves entirely! Problem solved! No more discomfort or moral conundrums! We are the liberal-est!

There's just something so unbelievably fucked up and suspicious about erasing entire minorities from a fictional universe because they were handled poorly in the first edition, rather than talking to writers and outreach specialists FROM the real world equivalents to those minorities to try and rewrite them.

Don't worry, we removed the group the setting was bigoted against! Problem solved! Just remove the minority!

I've written my own post on why the Metis/Crinos-born should be renamed and probably rewritten, but as a severely disabled individual with multiple hereditary disabilities that severely impact my QoL, outright removing disabled characters in a work of fiction because the prejudice other characters showed them in-universe made people uncomfortable makes me want to tear out someone's throat with my teeth.

Sure, completely remove my ability to play disabled a character fighting back against prejudice and bigotry, rather than rewrite the most uncomfortable aspects of YOUR FUCKING PORTRAYAL OF THOSE CHARACTERS to make it more clear who the sympathetic one is supposed to be.

It's just so unbelievably cowardly and whinging and wretched.

So fuck it, I guess!

Fuck the deeply applicable themes of being born into a well-intentioned but deeply flawed and bigoted society, and trying to create the better world your parents always told you your ancestors fought for, while dealing with the fact that your world is built on mass graves those ancestors helped fill.

Fuck a game that deals with intergenerational trauma and the ethical hellscape that is a highly religious society devoted to the very same ideals it often violates just to win fights against the enemies it created through its own arrogance and prejudice.

Fuck a game that lets you play someone born different, born strange and sickly, bouncing constantly between people who pity you and people who view you as subhuman, before finally finding the people, the family who love and accept and fight alongside you for a world that has never accepted you, but WILL FUCKING KNOW YOUR NAME.

That's not relevant to the real world at all!

There are no kids born in deeply flawed and hypocritical societies, who grew up on stories of the glorious future their society would create, forced then to reconcile the hopeful dreams of a better world with the comprehensive list of horrific things done in the name of that future.

There are no children born confused and alone in their navigation of the maze that is past atrocities, ethnic conflicts, religious prejudice and dogma, or modern propaganda attempting to erase the histories of all of those things.

There are no disabled teens who spent their lives believing they didn't belong in the world, kept going only by the connections they forged with other outsiders and people who fought back against the kind of wretched bigotry that suffocates children to death, who found homes and families they could trust outside the pissant communities they were born into.

Apparently those people don't need a game! They don't need to explore those feelings!

Just throw some more nazis in, so we can pretend we care about social issues or understand the redeeming threads of a deeply flawed gameline, ostensibly so we market it to leftist youngsters, but while we also erase the entire point of a game WHICH IS ALL ABOUT BEING PUNKASS YOUNGSTERS DESPERATELY TRYING TO FIND THE REDEEMING THREADS OF A DEEPLY FLAWED AND PREJUDICED SOCIETY THAT CONSTRAINS THEM, FINDING A WAY TO REBEL AGAINST BOTH THE EVILS OF THE RACIST BASTARDS WHO RAISED THEM AND THE POMPOUS SHITHEADS WHO WANT TO DESTROY THE WORLD OUT OF GREED.

No! We want a squeaky clean, sterile white game that AmericanTM parents can be proud of their kids for playing! A marketable game, that advertisers will gladly pay Revenue to put their products in! Play the good guys, everyone! You're the good guys! Be a big werewolf UwU!

Don't worry about historical atrocities or the flaws of the society that raised you! That's Pentex propaganda!

Fighting bad guys means you can't do anything bad yourself! The Emperor told me so! Deus Gaia Vult!

A hollow, performative, offensive jizzstain that should've been scrapped in its crib. I have no idea how this edition got past a quality assurance team.

Hell I have no idea how it got past a legal team, given the number of real peoples' likenesses they used without permission.

Devoid of artistic integrity or merit.

#werewolf the apocalypse #W5 #wta #owod #world of darkness #I'm just so tired man #putting most of this under a TLDR so I don't flashbang people with tabletop rpg drama #I genuinely thought the new writers would be better at this stuff than the old White Wolf #Nope.#turns out they're just as bad #I shouldn't have expected anything more from them after the V5 Chechnya bullshit #but I guess I just had the dumb notion of hoping they'd gotten better #how the fuck do you do worse than a company that wrote a sourcebook about the Holocaust???!?

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pastanest · 1 year

Text

Brienne x she/her!reader

A/N: feminists stand UP! in this house we support women’s rights AND women’s wrongs!

warning: winter’s leaving and hot girl summer’s returning so it’s a lil steamy in the end for all my strong, independent, Brienne whores xoxo

To Be A Woman

It had almost been a cruel joke on Brienne her entire life. The fact that you, belonging to a family that was still noble but not as highly regarded as the Tarth’s, had always been more of a lady than she had. If you had been anyone else, Brienne would have felt a harbored, silently seething jealousy towards you. Had you not only shown Brienne kindness and respect, had you treated her as the lesser lady that she felt she was, had you ever made a comparison between the two of you or made a point of it to others; had you not been as perfect as you possibly could be, perhaps Brienne would be able to feel differently towards you.

Instead, she finds herself joining you to yet another dress fitting. It was not something Brienne enjoyed, nor was it something that she was ever involved in beyond giving her opinion on the dresses you tried, but somehow, you always found a way to convince her. To Brienne, the reason was obvious the moment you stepped out from behind the curtain for the sixth time, in a dress not so different from one you had tried three dresses prior, but it stole Brienne’s breath from her very lungs regardless. The stars in her eyes made you smile as you twirled on the raised podium, the seamstress clapping and cheering the same approvals she’d had for all of the previous dresses. The only opinion you care for, though, you always have to ask for.

“Lady Brienne, what do you think?”

It takes your dear friend a moment to respond, choosing her words carefully before she nods.

“It suits you very well, my Lady.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I do wish you wouldnt regard me with such formalities, especially when you are the Lady of Tarth!”

Brienne scoffs at this. “I could never wear such pretty garments, Lady (Y/N).”

You raise an eyebrow, gesturing to her choice of uniform. “And I could never wear such strong, solid silver - that is not what makes a woman, dear Brienne.”

Then, it was Brienne’s turn to roll her eyes, while you decided on the dresses you wished to purchase and requested they be delivered to your quarters when convenient. Taking Brienne’s arm, you stepped out onto the street and began to make observations about the market’s most recent additions in products. Strolling through the bustling crowds of the townsfolk, not one stopped to stare at the woman that towered over you at your side, not one whispered to another cruel gossip about the untraditional armored woman walking lady about the town. The warmness of your presence was a shield stronger than any Brienne could hope to hold in her own hand, transforming the viciousness of the public’s usual opinion into kind smiles and well wishes, passed to her as much as they were to you.

As unlikely as the friendship has always been between the two of you, according to Brienne, to you it has always been second nature. To Brienne, you were simply too kind, too empathetic and too beautiful to resist in any and every sense of such words. You always have and always will be something that Brienne wished to be, in some ways, something unattainable and most commonly undesirable in favor of her path of strength and righteousness, but there was something so enchanting about the the sweet scents that followed you everywhere you went, the flowing gowns that trailed around every corner you turned, the pretty potions that you added to your baths and used on your face before retiring each night. Something so beautiful and unknown to someone like Brienne, who had been all but forced to deem such things as never to be hers, by right.

If the most she could do was exist beside you, see and feel such beautiful things by being in your presence, that would be more than enough for her, she thought. The smile that you were the first to give her had been the most like a girl she had felt in all her years pretending to be one, she had often mused.

Evenings like this, spent in one tavern and then the next, following the music and you as you danced towards it, have always been Brienne’s favorites. The part of her that rolled her eyes and feigned disapproval at your antics had long since passed, replaced by an enamored smile as she takes the closest seat she can to the musician, her eyes never leaving you. Your hips sway with the fluidity of water or wine, your gown flowing with each motion, the smile on your face one that Brienne is certain comes from any of the heavens that may lie beyond this life, your eyes closed as you lose yourself to the plucking of strings. And though you know better than to drag Brienne to her feet and embarrass her by forcing her to dance, you throw yourself into her lap, wrapping your arms around her neck as you share a laugh that is so without worry, without further thought, Brienne wonders if she is in a dream. Not a drop of wine fuels your action, but an energy and force that she has never understood, and has no desire to. Though she wishes to decode every intricate detail of your personality, there are aspects of you that are simply beyond explanation, and she will love those all the same.

The moonlight casts a gentle glow above you as you stroll arm in arm back to Evenfall Hall, you having been an honored guest while your family conduct arrangements with Brienne’s father. Giggling and sneaking through an entrance to avoid being seen, you lean on each other as though nothing more than a pair of girls far younger than you are, far more rebellious than either of you have ever truly been, but the rush is just as exhilarating when you collapse on the bed, safely beyond the door to your quarters. In the few minutes it takes for the two of you to catch your breaths, you stare up at the canopy of the bed in a daze.

“It is a relief to know that we will never be more than girls, you and I.” You muse playfully, enjoying the continuation of youthful bliss that can only be experienced with her.

Brienne scoffs. “If you would regard me as such, then I suppose you are correct.”

A deep sigh passes your lips. “You must stop chiding yourself like that, Lady Brienne.”

She sits up, turning to stare down at you with a frown. “It is no chide, but a simple fact. Perhaps I was a girl for a few years after I was born, but I was not allowed to be for much longer.”

Sad eyes meet hers, staring up at her with such sincerity she very nearly has to break your gaze, but she wouldnt dare. “You were banished from what is nothing more than a man’s version of being a girl, when they know nothing of the sort.”

Brienne’s frown deepens, and you continue.

“Being a girl is not long hair, long gowns, dances or potions or baths, it is not something restricted to a certain body that must fit in a special box designed by men. I heard one of those Lannister pricks-“

“(Y/N).” Brienne raises an eyebrow in warning, her own respect for people outshining your general disapproval at those with snobbish natures, while you roll your eyes.

“I heard one of those ever so noble, ever so rich Lannister men, say that lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, and the same can be said for women. No man can understand what it is to be a woman, in the same way we can never understand what it is to be a man. I am sure being a man goes beyond drooling at everything with a hole, though they do little to prove it-“

Brienne can't withhold the gasp of a laugh she releases at that, always surprised by and appreciative of your crude humor.

With a bright smile on your face, you sit up with her. “The point I am trying to make is that being a woman is not something anyone else can touch, take away from you or feel. Just because I like to dance in a gown does not make me anymore of a woman than you. If you find your femininity in your armor, in the swing of your sword, in the strength you feel in your righteousness, then that is what makes you a woman, Lady Brienne. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

There are mere inches between your faces, your voice nothing more than a whisper by the time your explanation is finished, reflecting the gentleness of the tears shining in Brienne’s eyes.

“If you do not wish to be perceived as feminine in any sense, then that is perfectly within your right, as well. Nothing is inherently feminine within you unless you want it to be and decide that it is. So tell me, dear Brienne, how do you accept yourself?” You take ahold of her hand to encourage her, and her glazed eyes dart down to acknowledge the gesture, her cheeks flushing pink as she swallows nervously.

“I…If what you say is a true, which I believe it must be, then…I am a woman.” She says, sounding sure of that statement and confident in it for the first time in her life, her gaze firm as it returns to yours.

Grinning at her, you squeeze her hand. “Then we are nothing more than a pair of girls, are we not?”

Brienne chuckles bashfully. “I suppose this is an accurate statement now, my Lady.”

Releasing her hand, you approach your dresser and sit in front of the mirror, beginning to remove your jewelry and tidy it away habitually.

A question tugs at Brienne’s mind, but she temporarily loses all trace of any thought as she watches the way your fingers detangle your hair with expertly gentle, nimble movements. Utterly mesmerized, Brienne shakes her head and focusses her mind.

“If you have never felt the way I did when being referred to as a lady, why is it you disapprove of it when I regard you as such?” She questions, remembering all the times when you had been quick to correct her when referring to you as ‘my Lady’.

Looking over your shoulder, you smile at her. “If you wish to call me your Lady, you will need to make me yours, first.”

Brienne does not have the tools available to check, but she is absolutely certain that in that moment, her heart stops beating, her soul glimpses the world from a bird’s eye as she ascends to the heavens, and then she drops back into her own armor quite suddenly, her face substantially hotter than it had been when she had last felt it. The dumbstruck expression on her face makes you laugh into a wheezing frenzy, wiping tears from your eyes as you stand up and disappear behind a curtain to get changed. If Brienne’s temperature rises much more, she will be forced to consult the God of Light.

She fixes her gaze to the floor, desperately trying to think of anything other than the fact that you are undressing and stepping into a nightgown behind a curtain that is no more than a few feet behind her. The honor that pumps in her very veins will not be outrun by adrenaline, not this day. But as she feels the bed dip behind her, and those nimble fingers beginning to untie parts of her armor, she cannot remember how to swear anything to the old gods or the new, except that she is, undoubtedly, on the brink of fainting.

“Am I wrong to think that, based on the frequency at which you have referred to me as your Lady, that is what you wish me to be?” You tease, your lips so close to Brienne’s ear she can hear your breath in her hair, a trail of goosebumps erupting on her neck.

She gulps, taking a deep breath before shaking her head.

Without sparing another second, you slink your way around her until you are straddling her lap, Brienne’s hands acting on an instinct she did not know she had when they immediately lift to hold you there. She takes perhaps half a second to thank every god she knows for the fabric of the nightgown you are wearing, because had she felt your skin beneath her hands, Brienne is sure she would not have survived the contact. Her eyes meet yours, wide and stunned, frozen in place much like the rest of her, while yours are relaxed and - dare Brienne think it - sultry?

“Then, my dear Brienne, I must amend an earlier statement.” You begin, and she nods feverishly, urging you to continue because she has lost the ability to speak. “I said that being a woman is not something anyone else can touch, take away from you or feel, and while it is still true that nobody can take away what it means to be a woman…it is quite possible to touch, to feel, such a thing. In more ways than one, so I’ve heard.”

Brienne blinks rapidly, clearing her throat. “M-More ways than one, you say? Perhaps your take on a woman is not as accurate as you first thought, then.”

You nod along with her, a smirk rising at the corner of your lips, which look more inviting to Brienne with every second that passes. “Perhaps you are right, perhaps it is you that should correct me on what it means to take a woman.”

Brienne’s eyes, if possible, grow even wider. “That is not what I-“

But you cut her off, the tension building around you and between you becoming too much, forcing you together in an almightly crash of flushed lips and relieved sighs as you card one hand through Brienne’s hair, the other still unclasping parts of her armor with far more urgency. Her hands squeeze your waist through the soft cotton of your nightgown, feeling the rise and fall of your chest against hers, even through the silver plates that separate you. As each part of armor that covered her torso and arms clatters against the bed, your hands scramble to feel more of her, the strength of the muscles in her arms, the firmness of her chest and hips, while hers hook under your thighs and pull you impossibly closer, her heart skipping a beat when your nightgown rises just enough for her fingertips to graze skin, soft and supple and hot to the touch for less than a second, but time enough for a hunger like nothing Brienne has ever known to bloom within her, and she reaches an epiphany.

Perhaps, Brienne thinks, this is what it is to be a woman.

#brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne of tarth imagine #imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #game of thrones #got #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine

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joesalw · 4 months

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All of Taylor's albums were tailored to the most popular aesthetic at the time. She didn't make shit popular, she just adapted. Especially when she made the transition into pop music.

True. She's currently jumping fences with rep as well. Making it out to be a goth punk moment and using trendy words like 'female rage'. The album has the most romantic songs she's ever written. C'mon now. The whole record is electropop with some R&B elements thrown into the mix.

She portrays 'Lover' as her social justice warrior era. 'If I was a man, then I'd be the man'. Yeah, we've seen it Taylor. Miss 'me becoming a billionaire is good for the world because I'm a woman'. She makes herself out to be this 'feminist girl's girl' when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. She's not a feminist and she doesn't want to be the woman that's advocating for women's rights and leads the path for the future generation of women. She wants to be the man at the top. Her motto is literally 'gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, greenhouse gases'.

Another thing is her queer allyship. She's mentioned it when and only when it was profitable to her. During her tour she hadn't said a thing when the number of states signed anti-trans bills and the state of Tennessee where she says she lives *according to her own documentary* banned drag. I don't think she said anything about the anti-abortion legislation either. Her activist era started and ended in 2019.

Don't get me started on her position regarding the BLM movement. She only posted something because her own fans started calling her out and then declared that she's 'ferociously anti-racist'. She positioned herself as an advocate *by herself* and then immediately dipped when it stopped being as profitable. If you don't want to be dragged for your silence about social and political crises, don't proclaim yourself as an activist. Simple as that.

I've also seen the video on Youtube about TS being a narcissist (someone posted it on your blog earlier I think). And the guy in the video brought up her guitar teacher. So I looked him up and found an article where he talks about his experience with the Swifts which he got sued for later. According to the man, Taylor's mother was interested in him teaching her daughter how to play country music and was just a stage mom in general. And TS says that she'd been begging her parents to allow her learn how to play guitar and that she's self-taught. She wants her success story to be a rags to riches so bad I can't even.

She's a woman with an extremely fragile ego where millions of people could be praising her and a single negative comment would set her off. She can't handle any form of criticism, break ups or inconveniences like a grown woman simply because she doesn't have enough emotional intelligence to do so. Her being surrounded by yes men also doesn't help the situation. If i were her, I'd rather invest in a good therapist rather than 2 PJs. She drowns herself in work and relationships so she doesn't have time to go inwards and sit with her thoughts.

I kinda feel bad for her, honestly. She's been in the industry since she was 15 and her success was almost immediate. She doesn't know what the world's like because she's been sheltered her whole life and then had other people do things for her. I don't think she has many real friends as well. By real I mean people who aren't afraid to tell you the truth and are able to call you out in your face. Instead she has a bunch of people who appease her afraid of pissing her off and ending up on her bad side and as a result her vanity grows and she completely loses any sort of perspective whether in her friendships, romantic relationships or maybe even her own family.

I also wonder what she thinks about her fandom pirating her concert film instead of paying to rent it. I sort of hope that her fans are starting to wake up to her conning schemes. I mean, you've already made a shit ton of money from the theatre release, why charging 20$ more to RENT IT?Not even buy it. Or is it another narrative about how 'no one can own my work but me'?

This woman sells well but her cultural impact is almost nonexistent. She hadn't done any good for the world causes or inspired several generations of performers like Michael Jackson has with his philanthropic endeavors and incredible performing skills. The artists like Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars, Justin Timberlake (bleh) and The Weeknd were hugely influenced by MJ. These artist create their own unique legacy and impact on their communities. Especially the ladies. Gaga's been an avid LGBT+ advocate since the beginning of her career and created a foundation that focuses on issues like self-confidence, well-being, anti-bullying, mentoring and career development. She also participated in anti HIV and AIDS campaigns, spoke against immigration laws in the US, contributed to 2011's earthquake and tsunami relief campaign in Japan. Beyoncé's a huge advocate for the black community and black women especially which always finds its way in her work and visual art in particular. She's been platforming black culture and history for her whole career (2016 Superbowl and Coachella performance are the brightest examples of black american culture and releasing her Lion King album to showcase African artists' excellence). She also has a foundation where she provides black youth scholarships, clean water for communities abroad and housing to families in need in her home state.

What exactly makes Taylor Swift's cultural impact? Thousands of tons CO2 emissions? Music labels putting a clause in the contract so the artists can't re-record their material for 10 years now instead of 5? Making several versions of the same CD or vinyl so the sales are bigger? Mind you, that's all excessive plastic and paper. Some countries and US states are banning gas stoves. Her position regarding artists being paid during the early days of streaming (when the platforms were launching with a free period tial) was right but no one really benefited from it but her. She was shitting on Apple Music, then they offered her money, filmed an ad and released her 1989 Tour DVD exclusively on their platform. She shat on Spotify, then when LWYMMD came out, she was all over their biggest playlists all of a sudden and recorded Spotify Singles later on. Spotify's always promoted her every release like a motherfucker shoving her in every corner of the platform. Especially for the past 3 years. She doesn't have any memorable outfits or unique style to be called a fashion icon either. She's not a trailblazer she thinks she is. She is only popular because a lot of people *mostly ww* who peaked in high school see themselves in her. She's average in everything she does, her writing topes are also the same (only now she started using compound or uncommonly used words to mask it) but she's extremely commercially successful so that those people can see themselves in her. She doesn't have unique music style or chameleon-like discography like Gaga, Bey, MJ, Madonna, Shakira, Kelly Clarkson, Miley Cyrus or Nelly Furtado. She doesn't have a unique singing voice like Bjork, David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Janis Joplin, MJ or Bob Dylan. She's no instrument prodigy either. And swifties say that 'Michael couldn't play any instruments'. Well, he was an exceptional beatboxer. She can strum 4 guitar chords and play basic piano, that's it. She doesn't have an outstanding dancing and/or vocal skill.

What is she gonna be remembered for? Her numerous relationships with famous men? While that might be misogynistic or sexist to some degree, she's the one who makes her relationships the centre of her music and public persona and brings them up even 10 years after they ended. Her public feuds with men and women that she can't get over years after? This woman is certainly can hold a grudge and is extremely vindictive. The leader of a parasocial cult that blindly defends her bigotry? I believe so. I don't think I've ever seen a fandom as toxic and as hive-minded as swifties. And again, it's Taylor's own creation. She's the one that constantly says 'look closely for the easter eggs' in her content making her fans theorize on every aspect of her life, or 'if you're very loyal I might invite you to MY HOUSE and you can listen to the new album early, we'll take pics and I'll bake you some cookies'. Of course they'll follow your any order. I'm glad I escaped.

Oof, I'll stop here. That's a very long one already

sorry hehe

#anti taylor swift #anti swifties #swifties dni

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