#i need to go back to misandry

[sapphicrpc]

i used to bully people for defending men and now i’m sat here writing essays justifying seo moonjo’s actions and why he really is just a hopeless romantic and that’s his only crime... 

you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain ig

#i need to go back to misandry #ALL MEN ARE GARBAGE!!! #except seo moonjo #i'm acting het i don't like it what has this fictional character DONE TO ME #he's literally a MAN why am i hyping him up this much #A MAN ?!?!? #smfh #kaz rambles #strangers from hell

[thisismisogynoir]

I love it when women hate men. I love it when women are allowed to vent to each other about how horrible and creepy men are. I love it when women form friendships with and prioritize each other over relationships with men(whether they're attracted to them or not). I love it when women put men dni in their bios and on their nude photos and on posts on their blogs. I love it when women refuse to mollycoddle and accommodate entitled male feelings with "but this doesn't mean I hate all men, I know a few men who are great, I love my father/sons/brothers/uncles/male cousins/guy friends" I love it when women complain about men WITHOUT "not all men" being a disclaimer. I love it when women avoid socializing with/refuse to be around/befriend/get close to men because they know men can't be trusted. I love it when women make "kill all men" jokes. I love it when women offer absolutely no concern or care for men's feelings and if their misandry offends men whatsoever because why should we, men are the oppressor class who have raped and killed and abused us and kept us as subjugated as second-class citizens for millennia, they regularly mistreat us and the women in their own marginalized communities still every single day and make this world so much harder and more awful for us to be in, and if we choose to hate them and not spare them any sympathy then so be it, and I don't just mean "men as a class" either, you can be a woman who doesn't want to have anything to do with any man on an individual basis and completely cuts off men from her personal life too and ykw I will love and fucking support you in that because men deserve absolutely NOTHING from us. If they're so tough and strong then they can handle it just like they can handle being lonely. If you are a woman who hates men, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE A LESBIAN AND/OR A TRANS WOMAN, then just know that I love you. I love you, I support you, and you are safe here.

#was going to make a post about how much i hate that women aren't allowed to hate their oppressors but i decided to spin it into something #positive instead #this is supposed to be the feminist site that makes reddit mgtow piss their baby diapers so let's go back to despising men and not coddling #their feelings and let's dye our hair blue while we're at it #i am so tired of this new wave of guilt-tripping and gaslighting women who hate men and don't trust or want to be around them #i hate how we're made into villainesses or the problematic ones for not valuing them in our lives or for wanting to guard ourselves or be #safe from our oppressors #and i'm tired of people who don't know the first thing about feminism being like 'BUT THAT'S TERF RHETORIC WHAT ABOUT X MINORITY MEN' #guess what women can also be x minority that you're trying to protect the men of and we get to hate men too #trans women are included when i say women btw and trans men are included when i say men #if anyone has the right to hate men more than anybody else it's trans women esp trans lesbians because they put up with so much shit #from men that even cis women do not and they especially know how vile men are behind closed doors #so #terfs fuck off #radfems fuck off #and if anybody tries to make this post more appeasing to men or 'not all men's this post you are getting blocked and hit with a hammer #feminism #misogyny #sexism #patriarchy #tw men #tw rape #tw abuse #misandry #terfs dni #radfems dni #feminists need to go back to being scary and unpalatable for men none of this 'but some of them are good!' bullshit #men are entitled to nothing from us #and if you try to prove me wrong then you are just proving my point if you have nothing good to say then simply keep scrolling #ok? ok.

[genderkoolaid]

hey i was wondering something and i wanted to know your opinion on it

Why is it problematic to say i hate men but not white people or straight people

(i'm a trans south east asian man btw)

I'd say on, like, a casual exasperated level, its not problematic to say "I hate [x]." It gets problematic when your venting about a group becomes your sole lens of viewing + interacting with that group.

Like, its entirely alright to be frustrated with behaviors common to cishet white men and express that in a vent by saying you hate them. But... its like how people make the correct point that they shouldn't be expected or obligated to give all their energy to coddling people with power over them, but translate that into "i never have to care about a member of this group at all" which directly conflicts with just. being in a community? Like women should not be expected to be caretakers for men, but people in a community need to take care of each other. When the only way you engage with a group of people is by expressing hatred and asserting how much you aren't obligated to care about them, its easier than people think to find yourself dehumanizing them.

Which does not mean "you are just as bad as a racist/misogynist" or "you are oppressing them"; you are An Individual whose biases are not necessarily backed up by powerful systemic powers. But, for one, its very easy for those biases to be used by systemic forces: with men, misandry is very easily used to justify all kinds of violence towards marginalized men & people perceived as men. You also have situations where people will say the Holocaust "wasn't as bad" as, say, US slavery, because it was "white on white violence," or saying the Armenian genocide also wasn't that big of a deal because "it was done to Christians and Christians are always killing people" (two real things I have seen been said). And, again: if you are going to care about community and restorative/transformative justice and all that, you need to be able to give a shit about all kinds of people who you live with. You need to be able to see them as whole beings you are capable of connecting with on some level. You don't personally need to date or befriend men, but you do need to be able to give a shit about men in your community.

Its fine to feel annoyance and anger and use "hatred" to express that. But the problem occurs when people take "its okay to be angry with your oppressors and not spend all your energy coddling them" and make that the end-all be-all of their relationship with people of whatever group; revolutions can't accomplish compassionate goals when they are run on hatred. Very hooksian concept but "love" (as in "a combination of care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect and trust", not in a strictly emotional sense but as an action) is a skill that is as vital as understanding class dynamics and protest tactics. Maybe you don't need to love everyone, but try to have the capacity to love anyone; the ability to physically care for someone you don't emotionally like is, I think, a vital step towards truly challenging and bringing down the kyriarchy.

Basically its about recognizing when your venting stops being an outlet and starts being a way for unproductive feelings to shape how you view other people.

#hooksian in reference to bell hooks btw #m. #ask box

[melonteee]

About Sanji being feral with men/older men, I remember reading once in a fanfic how an OC or SI (I can't remember which ^^; ) suggested that the reason why Sanji is nice to women and rude to men is because of his family. That at a young age he formed the mindset that women tended to be good people while men tend to be bad people because when he was young only women (his mom and to an extent his sister) were the only ones to treat him with kindness while the men in his life (his brothers and father) treated him like shit.

That kind of makes sense and I can no longer unsee it.

I'm so sorry this got so long because I have so much to say about Sanji and his perception of gender so read under the cut LMAO

Anon the SECOND his WCI story was revealed, that was the literal first thing I noticed. As always, Oda has an incredible show don't tell ability - and while it is implied (and maybe Oda didn't have the intention), there's certainly an idea that Sanji puts women on a pedestal due to how men abused him.

But considering Reiju helped Sanji, and how there were maids around Sanji who were also kind to him, along with his own mother, I'd say it's extremely intentional. Reiju also isn't exactly the nicest person either, like she's presented as a total grey area. It's not that Reiju was kind to Sanji just because she was a 'nurturing' big sister, but because she was the only one who didn't have her emotions literally programmed out of her. Reiju still gave Sanji a tough time, and still didn't help him unless it was behind Judge's back, but she still showed him more kindness than Sanji's father or brothers EVER did.

While there's an obvious misogyny in Sanji, and it IS undeniable, it certainly slides much further up on the misandry scale. When he was first brought into the world, the only people nice to him were women. His first memories and first acts of care and love came from women. He was allowed to cry around his mother, he was allowed to let his guard down around Reiju, and he was allowed to be his 'emotional' self with the women that surrounded him. It is undeniable Sanji has elevated women up to a being higher than men, and much higher than his OWN existence. This has all mixed and formed inside him due to his time with the Vinsmokes AND his time with Zeff.

After all, combine Sanji's first and only real acts of affection coming from JUST women, with Zeff's ideology that women are NOT to be harmed, of course you're going to create a boy who idolises women as this holy deity.

Not to go a bit off track, but it's why this idea that Sanji HATES himself, and why he has ZERO self worth, is ALSO something people tie to his gender. Does Sanji take pride in being a 'manly man', or does he think that's what he needs to be for women? Does Sanji compensate his hate for his own self by being this extremely overdone, heteronormative gentleman? By projecting his love onto beings he believes he can never be nor measure up to?

When of course, these 'beings' are just women. Just people, like himself.

The discussions surrounding Sanji and gender, combined with his abusive male environment and this clear confusion/hatred for men, is WHY there are many who have picked up this idea Sanji perhaps does not want to BE a man. It can be called a stretch, or wishful thinking, but it's something people within the queer community have seen nonetheless.

After all, we have SEEN Sanji's happiness upon being perceived as a woman - TWICE.

Sanji quite literally has a deadname he refuses to be referred to as.

And now, with his current mutation happening, he is becoming afraid of - and displaced IN - his own body.

Sanji is such a weird and complicated character to fathom, honestly. It could VERY well be these were all things Oda just accidentally tripped and banged head first into, but WCI as a whole had a pretty big focus on not JUST familial roles, but expectations and roles of GENDER as well.

Katakuri's need to be stern and emotionless as an older brother, Pudding's abuse due to the fact she wasn't 'pretty' enough, Big Mum's daughters being married off unless they proved they can serve some OTHER purpose, Sanji's brothers forcefully cold and emotionless, Reiju needing to bottle her own emotions with fear of being bullied, SANJI'S bullying due to being an emotional boy, Judge HIMSELF being made fun of for his crying.

Combined all with Reiju telling Sanji "You're a boy, don't cry!"

WCI was fucking RIDDLED with gender discussion and gender expectation that comes with blood family, but this idea is pushed to the side due to the themes of familial abuse being the most prominent. Yet a BASE of familial abuse IS expectations of gender roles that comes WITH a nuclear family.

As much as people don't want to see it or CAN'T see it, Sanji's character and arc includes areas of toxic gender norms JUST as much as it covers blood family abuse. It's just something that's taken to an extreme in this hyper fiction setting, and thus, it can become invisible beneath the surface. But I see it! And obviously, you see it too anon!

Sorry for the rant I am just VERY passionate about Sanji's complicated relationship with gender LMAO

#ask #melonask #Sanji #SORRY AGAIN LMAO

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 2 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 4,625 words

Chapters: Chapter 1, current chapter, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 + 6 (in the works)

        (Y/N) adjusted the name tag on her shirt as she walked to the hospital's entrance, her other hand holding some books and a DS. 

        Rachael's appointment should be starting soon. I need to hurry so I don't be late. She thought as she sped up.

        A security guard was outside guarding the hospital doors but once noticing (Y/N), he stopped her.

        "You need to go to the psychiatric branch immediately." They spoke.

        "...Huh?" She muttered audibly. "Oh... No, sir. I work in the pediatric branch with Doctor Ryan, he's my superior. You're mistaking me for someone else."

        "No, miss. Andrew Graves from room 402 wants to see you now." The security guard reaffirmed. 

        "...H-he does? That's just... great!" she smiled nervously, a terrified expression on her face.

        HE KNOWS I KNOW ABOUT HIM! She screamed in her head.

        "Get going before he breaks any more staff equipment." The security guard pressed on.

        "Okay, okay!" (Y/N) sighed, rushing into the hospital and to the elevators.

        She pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come down, walking into it and pressing the fourth floor button. She waited impatiently for the doors to open and rushed out when they finally did, heading towards the staff room. She unlocked the staff door and filled her bag with medical supplies: a mediscope, a stethoscope, a bottle of water and a bag of pretzels.

        She clocked in and sped-walked to Andrew's door, room 402, and hesitated before knocking on the door.

        "Go away!" Andrew shouted.

        "Hey there! It's me! (Y/N)? From last night?" she called out, her nervousness evident in her voice.

        "You can come in." Andrew spoke almost too quickly.

        Damn it... She thought to herself, before taking a deep breath and entering the room.

        He never corrected me last night when I gave him pet names, so they worked with calming him down. She noted.

        "Hi, star! I heard you've been causing some trouble." (Y/N) smiled, her smile twitching slightly, her voiced sounding a little muffled to him.

        Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but then paused. Why did he need to see her so badly? 

        "M... My head." He muttered. "It hurts. I need you to look at it." 

        (Y/N) couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her throat as she walked over to him. Her nerves were still on fire, but not as much as they were earlier seeing how quiet and flustered he'd gotten.

        "Did you do anything strenuous?" she questioned.

        "Ashley and I started arguing, then she grabbed my hair and shook my head back and forth." Andrew explained.

        (Y/N) wanted so badly to coddle him. To hold him in her arms and dote over him. It’s a bad habit she really needs to break, but the weird part is that she only acted towards that to people she really really liked—romantically. Anyone else she’d feel extremely annoyed and angry (unless it was children, they’re her soft spot). 

        She wants to have him laying on her body with his head in her chest as she petted his hair, cooing soft sweet reassurances into his ears so that he’d feel better.

        What the hell is wrong with me?! she thought, her face and body heating up, a bright red forming.

        I’m only thinking this because he’s obviously being treated like shit by his sister. Poor Andrew can’t even stand up for himself against her (literally). She thought.

        “Oh, Andrew. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why anybody would do that to you.” She pouted, her body acting on its own as her hands went up and gently grabbing his face, caressing the sides delicately as she looked into his eyes.

        His eyes were wide and green, laced with surprise as his face was red, looking as if he was a Christmas decoration with the bright festive colors.

        “W-what are you doing?!” he exclaimed, grabbing her arms and pulling away from her, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

        “Oh! I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” she questioned worriedly.

        “N-no! You… you were really close..” Andrew claimed, covering his face with his hands.

        Aw! He’s so cute when he’s flustered! (Y/N) thought to herself, a smile breaking out onto her face.

        WHAT AM I THINKING? HE’S A WANTED MAN (by the cops and me, it seems)! HE’S MY PATIENT TOO! I SHOULDN’T BE DOING THIS WITH HIM! she screeched in here head.

        “I’m sorry! I got too carried away…” She chuckled nervously, her nails digging into her palms as punishment. "I usually work with children as you know, and they appreciate the action. I acted on impulse.

        “W-whatever…” Andrew muttered, his face still not completely cooled off.

        “Let’s try this again.” She smiled awkwardly.

      �� She tilted Andrews’s chin up (causing wave of red to hit his face just before the other one subsided) and reached into her medical bag, pulling out her mediscope.

        “Keep your eyes open.” She instructed, following the same procedures as she did yesterday. “Now open wide.” She directed, pointing the light into his mouth. “Stay still.” She spoke as she looked into his ears.

        She noticed blood in them and sighed.

        “Either your sister ruptured your eardrums with all her yelling, or she caused the internal bleeding in your head to get worse. You’re going to need surgery for that.” She explained. 

        “Aw… damn it…” Andrew muttered.

        No wonder his hearing was a little muffled.

        “I mean, it was about time for the surgeons to get your legs done! They only got your ankles bandaged up, but they haven’t had surgery on your legs yet.” (Y/N) explained. 

        “I really can’t afford it...” Andrew muttered softly to himself, but (Y/N) heard it.

        He can’t afford it? Makes sense since he said he doesn’t have anywhere to go, so I doubt he has a home. She thought to herself before a stupid idea flashed in her mind. What if I… have him stay with me after he’s well enough to leave? she quickly shook the idea out of her head. 

        No way! He’s a wanted man! But… I haven’t called the cops on him yet, so I’m already committing a crime. Who cares if I get more years to my sentence for housing this man under my roof, feeding, sheltering, and spending time (loving) with him? she thought. 

        “Don’t worry about it, I feel we’ll find a way!” (Y/N) beamed. “Now, here’s the deal. I’m going to get the doctors to get surgery done on you, then when your head is all better and dandy, I’ll show you the collection of books and video games I specifically picked out for you~” she spoke, dragging her tone out to make the deal appeal more tempting.

        Specially picked out? Andrew thought.

        His interest was piqued instantly.

        “Yeah, whatever…” Andrew huffed, crossing his arms and adverting his head to the side.

        “Great! You’ll behave and listen to what they say, right?” She questioned a little sternly, her hands on her hips.

        “…Yes…” Andrew hissed through his teeth reluctantly.

        “Alright. I’ll be right back.” She smiled, walking out of the room.

        A few minutes later she came in rolling a wheelchair and a security guard. 

        “Careful with him now.” She instructed to the guard. 

        The guard picked up Andrew and placed him on the wheelchair, dropping him a little carelessly and causing him to wince.

        “Oi! I said careful!” (Y/N) snapped, resisting the urge to hit the guard in the back of the head.

        “Sorry, ma’am…” the guard muttered. 

        The guard rolled Andrew out of the room and followed as (Y/N) walked around the hospital aimlessly, forgetting where the neurologic branch was.

        “Ma’am… are you lost?” the guard asked.

        “No!” she quickly declared before looking around. “I’m testing you to know if you’re paying attention.”

        “I’ve been here for five years.” He deadpanned.

        “…I have to keep your mind sharp.” She claimed weakly. “But lead the way please, since you’re so confident.” 

        She followed the guard and Andrew as they headed to the correct branch. She knocked on the staff’s door then unlocked it with her key.

        “Hello!” she smiled.

        “It’s lunch break for us. What?” one of the surgeons questioned rudely.

        “Be nice! There’s a patient.” A younger surgeon spoke, peeking from over the surgeon's shoulder. “How can we help?”

        “Andrew here has internal bleeding in his brain and we need surgery done pronto.” She ordered.

        “Lunch break~” the older surgeon sang, taking a bite out of his food.

        “Pink slip~” she sung back. “I’ll get you fired for rejecting care to a patient in need. He’s your top priority right now, so get him on that operating table.” She ordered. "Please."

        What’s with all the nurses and doctors here? Andrew thought to himself, not exactly believing the healthcare here is the safest.

        Well, that should be expected considering his old town's doctors had ads recommending euthanasia for suicidal people.

        “Fine.” They sighed.

        “I’ll be back in three hours okay? By then your surgery should be done. You listen to their instructions, okay?” she spoke, patting Andrew on the shoulder before leaving.

        I’m left with these guys? Andrew thought, watching (Y/N) leave him alone.

        While Andrew got prepped for his surgery, (Y/N) had other matters to attend to. She checked her watch.

        Rachael’s appointment is just about done and Joseph’s will be on in ten minutes. I can make it in time for Joesph. She thought, racing to the elevator and hopping in.

        She hit the second button and watched as the doors closed, waiting impatiently for them to open up. She ran out and to Doctor Ryan’s office, room 213. 

        She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds for the affirmative. 

        “Come in.” Doctor Ryan called out.

        (Y/N) opened the door and saw it was only Doctor Ryan.

        So I missed the lesson… she thought, letting out a groan.

        “I’m sorry, sir. I had to attend to patient 402.” She sighed.

        “I heard about it. Seems like you got a secret admirer.” Doctor Ryan teased as he cleaned the seats in the room with a Clorox wipe. 

        “Har har har…” She laughed sarcastically. “But I do apologize about it. I wasn’t expecting to go to him until after my shift.”

        “Yeah, I heard he has quite a temper with anyone but you.” Doctor smiled.

        “Don’t start it.” I sighed, ignoring the sudden increase of my heartbeat. “Anything planned for Joseph? Or is it a typical check-up?” 

        “After his check-up you’re going to give him a flu shot.” Doctor explained.

        “Oh… no thanks…” She smiled nervously. “I don’t do good with needles.”

        I almost puked when I had to give a shot to a test dummy back in my college test room… She thought, the memory making her queasy already.

        “You’ll do fine. Now go get him.” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        (Y/N) sighed and grabbed a clipboard and pen Doctor Ryan readied for her and walked out of the room, making her way to the waiting room. She opened the door and cleared her throat.

        “Joseph Stall?” she called out.

        A set of adults and their son stood up, walking towards her and into the hallway.

        “Hey there! Turn right and go to the scale.” She smiled politely as she closed the door being him.

        She followed them to the scale and readied her clipboard.

        “Alright, take off your shoes and step on the scale, please.” (Y/N) requested.

        Joesph complied and took off his blue crocs, standing on the scale. She wrote down his weight.

        52 pounds, in the average zone. 

        “Now step off the scale and stand up straight.” She instructed.

        Joesph fixed his posture and stood up straight in front of the wall’s ruler.

        3’9” feet, also average height for his age. She noted, writing it down. 

        “Alright. Let’s go to our room. Follow me, please.” (Y/N) spoke.

        She guided them to Doctor Ryan’s room, 214, and opened the door.

        “Hey! Come take a seat.” Doctor Ryan beamed.

        Joesph used a step stool to get up on the terribly cushioned bed and waited for the doctors instructions.

        “(Y/N), do your thing.” Doctor Ryan nodded.

        “Alrighty. Let’s start by checking your eyes.” She smiled, pulling out her mediscope.

        She got close and looked at his eyes, seeing no trouble whatsoever.

        “And your mouth. Say ‘aaaah’” She spoke, giving an example.

        “Aaaah.” Joesph voiced. 

        “And your ears.” She spoke, getting to his side and looking into them.

        Nothing. All dandy.

        “Looks good.” She smiled, putting her mediscope back into her bag.

        She grabbed a reflex hammer from Doctor Ryan’s hand and moved to Joesph’s side so she wasn’t in front of him. She gave him a gentle tap on his knee, causing his knee to kick slightly.

        “Good. Now your heart.” She gave the hammer back to the doctor and grabbed her stethoscope, bringing it to Joesph’s chest and listening to his heart.

        She stared at the clock as she waited 15 seconds and counted the beats, multiplying it by four.

        96 beats per minute. That’s in the normal range. 

        “Alright, now take a big deep breath in.” She instructed, bringing her stethoscope to his lung.

        She listened to the his inhaling and his lungs.

        “Now exhale.” She instructed, listening. “Inhale again… now exhale.” She spoke. “Alright. You’re perfectly fine. Is there any health concerns you’re worrying about?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at his parents.

        “Nope.” His mother spoke. 

        “And all we’re doing is the flu shot, correct?” she questioned.

        “Yep.” His mother agreed.

        “Great.” She smiled, resisting the urge to frown. 

        I hate hurting kids like this. She thought.

        She walked to the tray Doctor Ryan prepared for her, taking a small package and ripping out the alcohol wipe. 

        “Left or right arm?” she questioned.

        “Left.” Joesph spoke.

        “Okay…” She muttered, mentally preparing herself for the kid’s tears.

        She wiped his shoulder with the alcohol wipe and grabbed the needle, removing the safety cap and checking for any air bubbles.

        “Ready?” she questioned.

        “Yep.” The kid replied, looking at the needle.

        She stuck the needle into his shoulder and injected the vaccine by pressing down the thumb press, then pulled away. 

        “All done!” she beamed with a smile, exaggerating her voice to let the kid know he was okay.

        The kid stared blankly before nodding.

        Wow, kid took it better than I do. What a champ… She thought to herself. 

        “Spiderman or my little pony?” She questioned, grabbing a box of bandages.

        “My little pony.” The kid responded.

        “Great choice. One of my favorites.” (Y/N) smiled, opening the band-aid and lined the cotton with his small wound, gently pressing it down. “And here’s a sticker for being my star patient today!” she smiled, reaching into her bag and pulling out a pink star sticker.

        “Thank you.” The kid smiled, taking the sticker.

        “You’re free to go. Reception is on the left, they'll schedule your next appointment for you.” She directed. 

        The family walked out and (Y/N) sighed, taking the needle and reattaching the cap, placing it into the sharp objects box. 

        “See? Wasn’t so bad.” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        “I hate needles…” She sighed. 

        “Hey, do you call all your patients that? Star patient?” Doctor Ryan questioned.

        “Yeah? It makes them feel special and happy. It releases a rewarding stimulant into their brains, the pain killer.” She explained.

        “I bet patient 402 sure liked that…” Doctor Ryan snickered. 

        “Oh, we’re still on this topic, huh?” (Y/N) smiled, placing her hands on her hips.

        “I mean, you’re not changing the subject so…” Doctor Ryan laughed as she shook her head.

        “Any other patients you squeezed into today’s schedule? Or just walk-ins from a here?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Free to do anything until we get alerted.” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        “Ah, great.” She nodded, looking down at her watch.

        It’s only been thirty minutes since I last saw Andrew. And I really hate waiting around and doing nothing, I’ll go visit Hailey. She thought to herself.

        She walked out of the room and out of the walk-in clinic, heading to the room admissions. She made it to room 433 and gently knocked on the door.

        “Come in.” A weak voice exclaimed.

        “Hey there, hails! How are you?” (Y/N) questioned, opening the door and closing it behind them for privacy.

        “Hi, Ms. (Y/N).” Hailey smiled.

        Hailey was a small girl diagnosed with leukemia at seven. It’s been three years now since diagnosed and at the moment she’s in stage 3. (Y/N) finds it heartbreaking to watch the blonde girl’s appearance diminishing; her eyes sinking in, her hair growing wire-like and withered, her skin and cheekbones pale and sullen, and her arms and legs losing fat. Her appearance isn’t the only thing fading away, but her hope of surviving it too.

        “Would you like some water? It’s still cold.” She offered, already reaching into her bag.

        “Yes, please. I’m quite thirsty.” She smiled weakly.

        (Y/N) nodded and twisted open the bottle’s cap, bringing the drink to the girls lips. Hailey took small sips before raising her arm slightly, signaling no more. (Y/N) moved the bottle, twisting the cap back on weakly so Hailey could open it later.

        “Are you hungry too?” she questioned.

        “Not at the moment.” Hailey answered.

        “I’ll leave these here for later.” (Y/N) spoke, reaching into her bag and placing down a bag of pretzels on Hailey’s nightstand.

        “How do you feel?” (Y/N) questioned.

        Right now it wasn’t a normal survey (interrogation) she would give other patients, it was two friends catching up.

        “Better than I can be.” Hailey smiled.

        Even though Hailey was ten, she knew very well she was dying. It didn’t scare her as much as she thought it would. Her parents slowly stopped visiting less and less, too brokenhearted at their daughter’s rapid-approaching fate. The only visitors she got now was from her check-up nurses and (Y/N). 

        “Hey, I got you some new books. You liked that last one, yeah?” (Y/N) smiled, pulling out a book from her bag.

        “I enjoyed the ending. I liked Charlie’s bravery and courage.” Hailey commented.

        “I figured you would. She reminds me of you. Resilient and strong.” (Y/N) smiled, handing her a new book.

        “Aw… thanks.” Hailey blushed, the red in her face from the compliment looked as if it could be her normal skin tone, accepting the new book.

        “This book is about a library where all the different possibilities in your life that you could’ve had by making a choice, gets played out for you. I figured you’d like it since it’s fantasy.” She smiled.

        “Thank you.” Hailey smiled, looking fondly at the cover.

        “I’ll leave you to read the first few chapters. Want a sticker before I leave?” she questioned, already knowing the answer.

        “Yes, please.” Hailey nodded.

        (Y/N) reached into her bag and looked for a green star, finding one and handing it to Hailey to add to her growing collection that laid on her nightstand. 

        “Make sure to ring the button if you need anything. I’ll see you later, hails.” (Y/N) beamed, walking away from her.

        She opened Hailey’s door and walked out, closing it behind her. She looked at her watch, seeing it’s been an hour since she left Andrew.

        Two more. She thought to herself. Man, time seems slow today…

        (Y/N) sighed and stood there for a second, deciding what to do.

        I’ll go back to the walk-in clinic. She decided.

        She turned and walked away from Hailey’s room, she’ll return in a few hours to see how Hailey likes the book. She opened the two doors leading to the clinic, making her way to the back rooms and finding Doctor Ryan.

        “Oh, just when I was about to call you.” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        “Is there a problem?” she questioned.

        “You remember how to stitch, right?” he smiled.

        “Stitch wounds… yes…” She sighed, sucking in a breath to put her happy face on.

        “Come on, let’s get this done.” Doctor smiled, leading her to his office.

        (Y/N) walked in and took note of the situation, seeing a distressed boy a bloodied towel that was applying pressure to his forearm.

        “Hey, bud. I’m (Y/N). What’s your name?” she questioned, keeping the kid company as Doctor Ryan prepared a tray of tools for (Y/N) that she needed.

        “Cody.” The little blond boy rasped out, small tears in his eyes.

        “What happened to you?” she spoke calmly so the kid can copy her tone.

        “He had a fishin' accident with me. Got the hook hooked into ‘is skin and he ripped it out while preppin' for tomorrow.” The father sighed with his accent, covering his eyes with his cowboy hat to hide his shame.

        “No worries, accidents happen.” She smiled.

        “I really should’ve been watchin’ though.” The cowboy huffed.

        “C’mere dad, you can hold his hand.” (Y/N) encouraged.

        The cowboy sighed and stood up from his seat, walking over and holding his son’s left hand, his uninjured one.

        “Are you left-handed or right-handed?” she questioned, accepting the tray of supplies and placing it next to Cody.

        “Right.” The kid spoke.

        “Well, you might have to learn how to write with your left hand after this. But that’s okay, all the kids in school will think you’re so cool, along with the scar you’ll get too if you get one.” She smiled, gently removing the towel and placing it to the side.

        The kid has a nasty chunk of flesh ripped out of him from the hook. Either the dad or Cody panicked and ripped the hook out. Well, it's sure leave a scar.

        She looked at Cody’s elbow and felt for a vein. She found one and held her thumb on it, grabbing a syringe of lidocaine from the tray and popping the cap, checking for any air bubbles.

        “Look at dad.” (Y/N) instructed. 

        Once Cody looked away, (Y/N) removed her thumb from the vein and replaced it with the syringe’s needle instead, injecting the pain killer.

        Now we have to wait a few minutes, she thought.

        “Do you play any sports?” (Y/N) questioned, grabbing alcohol wipes to remove the bacteria from the fishing hook’s nasty ends.

        “I play football with my brothers.” Cody explained.

        “This’ll hurt real quick.” She warned. “And how many brothers do you have?” she questioned, wiping off the excess blood and grime, resisting the urge to cringe as Cody hissed and held tightly onto his father’s hand.

        “Three.” Cody answered.

        “Are you the oldest, youngest, or middle?” she questioned, wiping inside the wound a little to be extra certain it wouldn’t get infected.

        “Youngest.” Cody answered.

        “Do you go to school or are you home-schooled?” she questioned, grabbing her medical needle and thread and tying the thread inside of the needle’s hole.

        “I go to public school.” Cody responded.

        “Feel any pain in your arm? Or has it gone down?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at Cody’s face.

        “Gone down.” Cody answered.

        “Good. I’m going to start sewing up your wound, I want you to talk to me or your dad while doing it.” She explained. “You ready?”

        “Yeah.” Cody sighed.

        “Do you get good grades?” (Y/N) questioned, pinching the skin together and sewing up the skin and fat, deciding to go for buried sutures to get the job done.

        “Yeah.” Cody nodded.

        “Do you like school?” she questioned.

        “It’s okay.” Cody spoke, shrugging his head to the left since he couldn’t with his arms.

        “I didn’t like school much either.” (Y/N) admitted. “I didn’t like waking up early. I’m glad I work at night now.” 

        The cowboy redirected his attention from Cody and looked down at her and smiled.

        “Where I grew up, we had a farm and got up at 4 o’ clock to work on it. I was homeschooled in the south.” He explained.

        “You have more strength than me, getting up so early.” (Y/N) joked. “You too, Cody. I dislike needles. Whenever I have to get a shot, I cry like a baby.” 

        “Trust me, she does. I gave her one for her practice.” Doctor Ryan teased.

        “You’re in school?” the cowboy questioned.

        “Yup. That man is my superior teaching me the ropes.” (Y/N) explained, referring to Doctor Ryan who sat back and watched the procedure carefully to make sure she was doing it right.

        “I wanted to go to college but my family couldn’t afford it. Hopefully it’s a different story for Cody.” The cowboy smiled, ruffling his son’s hair. 

        “Especially with all the programs now for the youth, gives the younger generation a better chance for college.” (Y/N) pointed out. “Is there anything you want to be when you grow up? Like a professional football player or a doctor?” she questioned, shifting her tone so Cody knew she was talking to him since she couldn’t look away from her stitching work.

        “Construction worker!” Cody declared.

        “Ooo, are you going to build tall buildings?” (Y/N) questioned, entertaining the boy and keeping him busy. 

        “Yeah.” Cody replied.

        He didn’t seem like crying anymore, the painkillers help shoo off the pain, for now at least. She thought.

        "And... ta dah! You're all done, Cody!" (Y/N) beamed. 

        "Woah! It looks so cool!" Cody smiled.

        "Let's get some bandages on that, so it doesn't get infected. In two or three days, you can take the bandages off. In ten days, come back here and we'll check and see if the stitches can be removed.” (Y/N) explained. “Does that sound good?” she questioned, redirecting her attention to her superior.

        “Perfect, perfect! As per usual!” Doctor Ryan smiled.

        “Thanks!” (Y/N) smiled, flattered at the praise. “Now, what color star would you like?” 

        “Blue.” Cody smiled.

        “Here ya go!” she hummed, grabbing the stickers from her bag and pulling out a blue star, handing it to Cody.

        “See ya in ten days, lil lady.” The cowboy smiled, titling his hat before holding his son’s hand.

        “See ya! Reception is on the left. Make sure to be careful!” (Y/N) waved.

        “Ahem!” Doctor Ryan coughed into his hand over-exaggeratedly. 

        “Yes?” (Y/N) questioned, confused on if she did something wrong,

        “I don’t think patient 402 would be happy with all that flirting going on.” The doctor teased playfully. "You were awfully talkative with the dad."

        “Woah now. He has kids and is like 30, I’m too young to settle down like that. There was no flirting, only polite talk.” She explained.

        "Sure thing, lil lady." Doctor Ryan chuckled, earning an unamused glare.

        She ignored him, checking her watch, catching his attention.

        “Oh, your shift isn’t near over.” The doctor laughed.        

        “No, I wanted to see how long until I had to go see Andrew.” (Y/N) explained, waiting for Doctor Ryan’s teasing remarks.

        “I see. How scandalous.” He chuckled.

        “Hardy har har har.” (Y/N) laughed sarcastically. “I have an hour and thirty minutes left. But everything feels like it’s taking so long.” She sighed.

        “Here, why don’t you do a run around the hospital? It’s lunch time. You can bring the lunch trays to all the patients!” Doctor Ryan suggested.

        “That’s a good idea. Have someone radio in and call off all the lunch ladies to serve lunch, I’ll do it all myself.” She nodded, smiling.

        “I meant this branch. The whole hospital is a little excessive.” Doctor Ryan deadpanned.

        “No, no. I got this. Besides, I need my steps in.” She spoke. “See ya later!” she waved, taking off.

The second chapter for this is done! This series will also be posted on AO3 and Wattpad!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, current chapter, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 + 6 (in the works)

#stellar constellations #andy graves x reader #andrew graves x reader #andy graves #coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #x fem!reader #fem reader #x you #x female reader #x female y/n #yandere x yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x willing reader #yandere #female yandere

[ccatskies]

this is my take on the initial episodes of queen of tears: so, um. hyunwoo’s reaction to haein dying. a lot of people were immediately put off by it and dropped the drama, calling him an asshole. i wouldn’t say the reaction wasn’t a little uncomfortable to watch as a viewer, but that’s only the case if you’ve never put yourself in the shoes of someone suffering immensely from a dysfunctional relationship.

the lack of overt affection was destroying him because his wife is so closed off and would rather care for him in a way that is impossible to be acknowledged by him, she humiliated him in front of his employees and he had to respond w “yes, ma’am” despite not agreeing w her bc she’s his boss, she didn’t stand up for him vocally when her family was berating him to no end, plus the family made him do their household chores against his will. he had to walk on eggshells around them, especially his wife.

it was so bad that there were multiple scenes where his hands were clenched together, trembling. he went to therapy and got strong anxiety meds prescribed in return. this abysmal marriage was crippling him emotionally and mentally (it’s safe to say haein put him through emotional abuse, even if she didn’t intend to affect him that way)

his initial plan was to divorce haein because he couldn’t take it any longer, even if it meant his multimillionaire father-in-law was going to stab him in the back (figure of speech). in fact, he preferred being stabbed over having to face the vengeance of the hong family.

the “window fantasy” isn’t fictional. there are multiple women, unwillingly dependent on their narcissistic husbands (not only bc they can’t go anywhere since their working opportunities have been sabotaged but also bc a bad rep will follow them if they leave or don’t yield to their husbands; tldr: there are consequences to leaving), that have wanted to be widowed at some point bc they couldn’t bear the trauma of the marriage. growing up in a south asian society, i know a thing or two about being stuck in traumatic marriages and the only way being out is if your partner somehow dies.

no one would invalidate an abuse victim if they wanted their abuser to die. so, are these women any different just bc they agreed to the marriage when their partner swore to carry out their commitment? only to find out none of their needs are being met and they’re stuck? are they not being abused?

so, people, to an extent, DO justify it when women want their toxic husbands to die because of terrible life situations.

now, back to QoT. i saw someone on twitter say that if the roles were reversed i.e if haein was the one who was wishing for hyunwoo to die, they’d be okay with it bc “yess go get revenge on your toxic husband and free yourself girl” bc misogyny is a systematic thing. it’s not easy to escape abusive husbands in our society especially when they hold power over their partner.

so, for the opposite to happen i.e the husband wanting his wife to die just looks “bad.”

however, queen of tears is a show where it is blatantly obvious that the gender roles are reversed. something that even my younger brother pointed out seamlessly. the hong “queens” family think they’re progressive for making their sons-in-law do their chores for them (something they did not sign up for). this is how many daughters-in-law are treated in modern society. the only reason “misandry” feels more real in the show, in terms of the hong family, is bc the women of this family certainly hold more power over the sons-in-law because of CLASS. haein is a multimillionaire’s daughter while hyunwoo is a villager’s son. they could easily take revenge on his family in irreparable ways. class distinction exists, power exists, abuse exists.

with all that in mind, hyunwoo might as well have been going through the “widow fantasy” where if he left his wife willingly, he’d have to suffer and if he chose to stay, he’d still need to suffer. the only way out was haein not being in his life anymore without him having to do anything.

it sounds cruel but it’s obvious he was pushed to the edge. he wanted to escape the trauma and it should also be noted that by then, he was completely out of love with haein (he told his therapist that he despised his wife the most). how much can you sympathize w someone you can’t even look at without feeling small?

so, in that period, he must’ve went through an overwhelming amount of emotions while he was on survival mode, not allowing him to think straight, or even consider what he had w haein in the past bc much of that was long gone. furthermore, i don’t think he would’ve been that obsessed w the will revision if yanggi didn’t motivate him to think that way, with the intentions of getting compensation for their poor excuse of a marriage.

so yeah, i wouldn’t say he was being a good husband to her initially. but rather, he was being selfish… by looking out for himself for once. he’s always had to clean up the hong family’s mess, looking after their reputation, never getting peace of his own.

then again, it takes two to tango and the marriage failed bc of both hyunwoo and haein’s lack of efforts. but i would say it was more complicated for hyunwoo bc haein always kept him guessing (and she was indecisive as well; the wedding anniversary issue) and he’s grown up in a pretty communicative family, so not taking his partner’s words at face value isn’t something he’s used to. he felt the most unloved.

so, personally, it was hard for me to sympathize with haein until a few more episodes into the show (this is coming from someone who relates to haein a lot, kind of opened up room for a lot of self reflection). she was a bad wife to the point her partner wanted to die. can’t say if the feeling was mutual on her part. haein herself admitted that she was a terrible partner, understanding why he did what he did, despite it being heartbreaking.

another thing i’ve noticed people say is that hyunwoo was pretending to be the good guy and hiding behind his “kind” actions but you could tell his actions became more genuine and he started to catch feelings again, albeit he was in denial at the beginning. when the divorce agreement papers leaked, he told her the honest truth without coming up w excuses, acknowledging that this whole ordeal hurt haein more than it hurt him. he didn’t take advantage of her memory loss (the rain scene w the cat “aeong”) to cut himself some slack and to make sure haein wouldn’t immediately be plotting against him.

he wasn’t hiding behind his actions or claiming to be a good guy. he was owning up.

he started to care, felt guilty (hotel scene in germany) and realized why and how their relationship failed, worked towards making it better. i think he would’ve been honest and told haein abt the divorce himself anyway but learning about it from her mother kind of broke the trust haein had on him.

anyway, i never thought i’d be on tumblr defending a man who was happy at the news of his wife dying but here we are.

#pls i think its more nuanced than what ppl make it out to be #no u shouldn’t be happy that someone u loved once is dying #but if it’s someone who emotionally depleted you i’d lowkey understand #if the show dived more into the abusive patterns of the hong family and how he had to be on the receiving end the reactions would’ve been #very different #queen of tears #kim soo hyun #baek hyun woo #kim ji won #hong hae in

[argumate]

I was a fan of the once feminist blogger Sady Doyle back in the day, now still feminist but it's complicated blogger Jude Doyle, so I wrangle their words with only the kindest of wishes and I know they are perpetually Going Through It, but I still think they're being curiously oblivious in most of this post about erasure etc.

even just the narrative arc of "I was a feminist because traditional gender roles made me uncomfortable", like yes it's good to dig into the emotional underpinnings of your beliefs, and it can be an important part of figuring out what it is you "really" believe or what beliefs you end up settling on or converging to, but obviously something making you uncomfortable is often a terrible foundation on which to build a lifetime of political advocacy! and I don't even need to spell out the issues with that.

and yes lots of people are mad at them, of course, people are always mad at them and always will be even if the stated reasons may shift and vary, so this isn't exactly news, as distressing as it can be to witness, and of course you can't really base your politics on "people get mad at me on the internet", especially when your job is basically to make people mad on the internet, when it comes right down to it.

brief appreciation for "I obliquely subtweeted my mother," as a beautiful sequence of words.

they are of course obliged to state that "misandry" doesn't exist, but that stereotypes of men as predatory, hulking, and violent do exist, and thankfully must not lead to any kind of prejudice or negative outcomes that could be considered problematic; it's a strange assertion but a compulsory one.

they find that the writings of most cis male feminists are useless, but fail to identify why, and take them at face value instead of considering why there might be a supply of and a demand for such nonsense.

and of course, they still write in the same manner as they always have: of deriving general assertions from their specific experiences, which is arguably all that any of us can ever do and yet when expressed directly in thinkpiece form is still an intensely gendered, female-coded, way to write; when your topics are the socially constructed notions of "men" and "women" then you have to be aware of this!

[hamsterclaw]

Pow

Your job is to keep Gotham city safe, but you spend more of your time keeping Catboy aka Jeon Jungkook out of trouble.

Pairing: Jungkook x F! Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1.1k

Genre: Subversion of Batman roles, smut, crack and misandry

Warnings: Sex, pouty JK

For Memes @madbutgloriouspond who took this idea and ran with it and came up with all the best lines including ‘being taken seriously as a man.’ Special mention to Mango @blog-name-idk for encouraging the crack all the way.

Gotham is cast in perpetual twilight to you because of your burden of being her protector.

The villains who seek their own gains stop for no man, even if they look hella sexy in a catsuit.

Jeon Jungkook aka Catboy because Catman didn’t have quite the same naughty ring to it, crosses his arms over his chest and expects you not to be distracted as he talks to you.

You remind yourself to tell him he needs to talk less pouty if he wants anyone to actually listen, but for now you just enjoy the view.

‘They didn’t even stop when I stood in front of them,’ he complains.

You tear your gaze away from his sculpted ass as he slinks around the bat cave and try to concentrate on his words.

‘Did you tell them to stop?’ you ask, undoing your weapon belt and letting it fall to the floor for your trusty manservant Park Jimin to pick up later.

‘I told them!’ Jungkook whines, voice going pitchy like it does when he’s at his most agitated. ‘I threatened them with my claws!’

‘Oh Kookie,’ you sigh. ‘You need to work on your presence, baby girl.’

You unhook your cape and toss it aside carelessly.

‘Will you give me a back rub, kitty?’

‘Don’t call me kitty!’ whinges Jungkook.

‘Ok ok, don’t get testerical,’ you say hastily, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. God, he gets so tetchy sometimes.

Like it’s a problem being so pretty he gets constantly objectified.

Man problems mystify you.

You start peeling off your leather batsuit.

‘Maybe if you want to be taken seriously as a man you should stop stealing jewellery,’ you suggest.

Jungkook goes all red in the face with how worked up he is. You can tell by how he takes a deep breath before he starts speaking that he’s about to go on another one of his meninist tirades.

God, if he wasn’t so pretty you’d break up with him and date Poison Ivy. Now Kim Taehyung’s a man who leans into his menininity.

You need to head this off at the pass before he gets truly worked up and refuses to sleep with you.

‘JK,’ you say, voice low, velvety. ‘C’mere baby.’

He stops talking but doesn’t move, looking at you like he’s considering saying no.

‘You know I respect you as a man, don’t you?’

Jungkook stares at you, wide-eyed, and you know you nearly have him.

‘You’re the strongest man I know, much stronger than me.’

The corner of his pretty mouth curls up slightly.

‘Come and let me sit on your lap, baby,’ you coo.

When he reaches the rather conveniently located lounger you’re womanspreading across, he’s already hard.

You remind yourself to send Hobi a lil something to thank him for the incredible job he did designing Catboy’s fitted latex number.

You ask, ‘can I touch you, baby?’

Jungkook nods, pouts a little.

Men love it when you respect them.

You slip out of the batsuit, enjoying the way his eyes roam over your body wildly, like he can’t decide where he wants to look most.

‘Can you take your suit off for me, doll?’ you ask.

He unzips slowly, tugging the suit down to reveal sculpted shoulders, defined pecs with dusky nipples.

You kiss his chest, tongue flicking over his nipples. He lets out a low moan as you roll one nipple between your fingers whilst sucking the other. His cock twitches under its latex prison.

You help him out of the rest of his suit, until he’s bare, standing in front of you fully erect.

You wrap your hand around his cock and tug him gently down.

He groans as you sit in his lap.

You’re already wet, have been since he folded his arms earlier, creating a cleavage displayed to perfection by the low neckline of his suit.

Another Hobi genius design.

Jungkook moans prettily as you move up and down on his cock. His forehead is sweaty, his hair sticking to it in pretty curls.

He looks wrecked, and you’ve barely started fucking him.

‘I’ve barely touched you,’ you taunt, a little breathless yourself from how rigid and thick his cock feels inside you.

He says nothing, reduced to whimpering and moaning as he helps you move your hips.

You press your fingers against his parted lips, into the wet warmth of his mouth.

‘Suck, baby.’

‘Gonna cum,’ he mumbles around your fingers.

‘Already? You’re such a slut for me, we’ve barely started, baby boy,’ you pant.

Jungkook cries out as he comes, spurting hot streaks of white into your cunt. His pretty moans rise in pitch until he’s so loud you’re glad the batcave is soundproof.

He buries his face between your breasts as his cries subside.

‘Come on,’ you say, pinching his nipple. ‘One more for me, baby.’

Jungkook twitches helplessly inside you, still hard.

‘I can’t!’ he protests.

‘You can,’ you say, reaching between his spread legs to press a finger against his rim.

Jungkook cries out in pleasure as you nudge a knuckle against his rim.

You squeeze his cock, which is already hardening inside you, and Jungkook whines.

‘Gotta,’ he grunts.

He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead rolling on top of you so he can start hammering into you.

His stamina is ridiculous.

You’ve always appreciated how he keeps himself in good shape for you, his figure is as manly as the day you met him trying ineffectually to rob a bank using his manly wiles.

You’d paid the bank manager and the chief of police off to not pursue him.

Robbing banks is really a woman’s job. Men lack the finesse to do it properly.

Jungkook’s breathy moaning snaps you back into the present.

‘Are you close?’ you demand, fingers under his chin.

‘Yes,’ he cries out. ‘Fuck, yes.’

You hold out until you feel him pulsing inside you, his hands tight on your ass.

‘Good boy,’ you say, breathless, ‘that’s good, baby.’

Jungkook presses kisses to your neck as he helps you grind on him, seeking your own pleasure now.

You moan as he bucks his hips, and then you’re coming, wetness seeping from you to coat his cock.

He wraps his arms around you, and you bury your face in his soft hair.

‘Wanna snuggle,’ he says, muffled into your chest.

You sigh.

Men get so clingy after sex sometimes when all you want to do is tap that ass.

He pouts up at you, and your heart softens.

‘Ok, catboy, we can snuggle,’ you say, resigned.

Hopefully he doesn't want to stay the night too.

©hamsterclaw 2023

This is for Memes @madbutgloriouspond who encouraged this crackiness and came up with all the best lines including my favourite line about 'being taken seriously as a man'. Special mention to Mango @blog-name-idk equally for running and encouraging this chaos.

#jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts smut

[orkbutch]

sound like terf talking points ngl. just say you don’t think trans women are women and go :/

I'm assuming this ask is referring to this post, otherwise idk what it'd be about That post was made in response to me first noticing trans men talking about "transmisandry". An element of whats being called transmisandry is the exact experience I described in that post, and I was giving my opinion on that change in gender perception and how battling against that is pretty futile. As I said in the post, this wariness toward masculinity and cis men - I'm just going to call this 'Man Wariness' for short - is also something the vast majority of trans women have internalised. (I only say "vast majority" because I guess there could be The Exception? but really I just think All women have that wariness lmao.)

I became aware of this discussion because trans women that I follow on twitter have been pushing back on the misogyny and transmisogyny that's been expressed by the people championing the existence of transmisandry the hardest. I've been witnessing a lot of conversations trans women are having about the trans/misogyny they've experienced specifically from trans men. They (accurately imo) identify this as a threat to the integrity of feminism, particularly within transgender thought/politics, because misandry is not a real oppressive framework that exists. Pro-transmisandrists have been arguing that misandry is real and harms trans women as well, because The Man Wariness - non-men having learned to be guarded and fearful of masculinity & (what their brain associates subconsciously with) cis men - can also be directed at trans women, and results in transphobia toward those women.

The trans women disagreeing resent the framing of this as a 'misandry' issue because, of course, trans women are women. The people that hate trans women, even the ones that call them men to abuse them, don't actually see them as Men. In the eye of the transphobe, terf or GC, trans women are something else entirely, an inherently deviant third thing. Pushing back against "misandry", a supposed systemic oppressive hatred of manhood and men, does absolutely nothing to protect women from oppression. Trans women are oppressed, attacked, assaulted and abused mostly viciously and routinely by cis men. Labelling a description and discussion of Man Wariness as "TERF talking points" is just... deeply, deeply unhelpful imo. Man Wariness is just real. Thats just how a LOT of people operate in the world, trans women included. Obviously this learned wariness ends up impacting how many trans women are viewed and treated, and I understand being skeptical of me defending Man Wariness because of that. I was talking about it in the context of trans men/mascs' experiences specifically. Honestly... I don't really have helpful, thorough thoughts on how Man Wariness impacts trans women/fems and how that should be tackled. Its a bit of a wicked problem, I'm not trans fem and I haven't seen much discussion about this specifically. I assume because its a touchy subject thats kind of avoided. On the one hand, I believe deeply that trans women shouldn't need to perform/achieve a certain level of femininity in order to be safe, happy and acknowledged by society as women. On the other hand, Man Wariness is an uncontrollable response that is very deeply internalised, often directly connected to traumatic experiences, and I don't think its something that can be explored and addressed unless we can talk about it openly and frankly. Your response to this is very counter-productive imo. It just shuts down any possibility of a nuanced, open discussion. Maybe it'd be helpful if I was a terf, but I'm not lol. Which is obvious if you've known me or followed my work for any significant amount of time. Its the kind of response that shames someone for having Man Wariness, and feeling shame about an uncontrollable emotional response is toxic. Thats going to make that person feel they're irredeemably transphobic in some deeply embedded way that makes them reluctant to interact with trans women. And if theres anything that I think would break down someone's Man Wariness reaction to trans women, it would be having more familiarity with trans women because they'd pretty quickly internalise that trans women are not a threat and are women. OR of course that shame makes them feel rejected and alienated from trans friendly sphears, and they then turn toward TERF & GC sphears where they can be reassured their Man Wariness is fine, and are then vulnerable to being radicalised. But you know in my opinion no matter where that discussion went, no matter how immovable Man Wariness could be proven to be, that will NEVER invalidate that trans people have a right to safety, health, happiness and acceptance within society as the gender we know we are. That's actually just fact. These discussions are simply figuring out How that should come to be, and what our vision of a better, trans accepting society might look like.

#tw: transphobia #oops i wrote a lot of stuff at 3am again

[omkookie]

Based on THIS Rio fic 🩷

Whew, this ended up becoming way longer than I intended it to be...😭

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Yandere!Rio’s Misandry and manipulation, kidnapping + drugging. 15+ Not proofread.

“Okay, look. Listen to me.” He tells her while taking her cheeks into his large hands, and holding her face. “There is someone dangerous outside, and we need to be quiet.” His explanation confuses her, and she whispers in question, “Who is it?”

Satisfied with her calm response, he gently lets her face go. Then, he looks back at the door. “I’m not too sure.” He answers. She quirk a brow up at him, Wondering to herself if Rio was now a crazed lunatic or being genuine. 

Could he be telling the truth? Would there be any reason for him to tell her the truth? 

She asks herself what benefit there may be for him. There is honestly no benefit for him to be honest with her, He’s probably lying to keep her quiet. Maybe, he figured that if he lured her into thinking that there was someone dangerous outside she wouldn’t scream for help. 

She's never seen him like this, and she was afraid. For the first time in her life, she was afraid of HIM.  She was tied up. Her arms and legs were bound by thick ropes that were meant to prevent her from escaping. “Anyway, it’s alright, MC. Just be quiet.” He strokes her cheek with his gloved hand as if to comfort her, “I’ll take care of you now, and I’ll make sure that you never feel unsafe again!” His words scare her, and she tries to resist the urge to scream when he kisses her cheek. 

“Rio, please…” Her skin crawls when he kisses her. Despite that, he doesn’t look too bothered as he asks her, “Please what?”

“Please let me go!” She begs him.

He stares at her blankly, his poker face remaining completely neutral even when he sees the tears in her frightened eyes glistening. “Please don’t look so afraid.” He tries to calm her down, “I’ll untie you in a minute.” 

“Rio! Please just untie me already.” She musters a weak glare at him, trying to blink back her tears. “Why are you even doing this?”,  “Why?” He echoes, looking utterly confused by her question. “Because I love you.” He states simply. “You don’t love me! If you did, then you wouldn’t grope me while I sleep. You wouldn’t kidnap me either!” She retorts. 

Rio visibly grimaces, his hands tightening into fists for a moment as he considers her words. “Everything I’ve ever done was out of love.” He answers sharply before gagging her by tying a cloth around her head. “You tried reporting me to the police… But thankfully, they thought you were drunk because of how much you were slurring on your words.” He stands, and brushes off the dust left on his clothes by the crushed up pills he earlier drugged her with. As he gazes down at her he tells her, “I went through a lot of trouble to bring us here.” 

As tears run down her face, she closes her eyes shut, Hoping that this is all a nightmare she’ll wake up from.

…

A Camera?

Oh, how unfortunate! Did she not feel safe in the palace? Of course she didn't. She was surrounded by men. Men were disgusting, vile creatures. He knew just how terrible they can be, and just how much they must have scared her… Especially those Rhodolite princes. Rio's prejudice against his own kind astounds her, as well as his blatant misandry. How can he continue to rant and say such vile things about men? Seeing how deep his hatred ran made her uneasy…

And hearing Rio bash her friends, made her feel even worse. His manipulative tendencies were award winning… and even though she knows she shouldn’t listen to him, his words were slowly getting into her head. 

She snaps out of her thoughts when she hears Rio's voice, “We’ve been missing for so long that there are posters, as well as leaflets with our faces on them.” He says as he picks up the winter dress he bought her, and sets it down next to her before he brings his fingers behind her back to strip her. “At least, The police don’t think that I've kidnapped you or anything… I’m good friends with their chief. They surely think that something bad must have happened to us both.” The smile he flashes is so dazzling, so sickening. The fact that he was smiling innocently after kidnapping her and keeping her as a prisoner here was insane.

She doesn't know where she is either... She’s even lost track of time. 

All she knows is that there’s snow? So she’s no longer in rhodolite. What she doesn’t know however, Is that Rio has brought her to a far away country that shares borders with Achroite.

Rio strips her with a practiced hand, easily sliding her dress off of her before redressing her. She doesn’t fight against him, she knows better than to do so after countless tries, and he presses a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’ll prepare dinner!” He says cheerily as he picks up her discarded clothing and heads towards the kitchen. 

Finally untied for the first time since being here, she gets up and walks over to the windows. She peers through the safety bars of the windows and feels a chill run down her spine as she observes the cold white snow. 

There was nothing but snow.

🩷 An: I think yandere Rio is like that one guy that everyone loves and respects, and so he would never be a suspect for anything bad.

Drugging the MC after she confronts him about touching him her like a creep is what I imagine he would do, because he doesn't want to 'hurt' her too much or do anything too forceful. The drugs would start taking place about half an hour after she sets out to go to the police in a carriage. Rio of course follows her and makes some excuses about her being drunk or something to the police officers since he's good friends with their boss. The police dismiss MC since they think she's spouting gibberish because of how she's slurring on her words. Oh, and they know she's good friends with Rio so she's safe with him. 💀

Poor MC y'all ✋😭

#ikemen prince #ikepri #rio ortiz #ikemen prince x reader #asks #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikeprince rio #ikepri rio #yandere fanfiction #yandere ikemen prince #yandere x reader #yandere #ikepri fanfic #cw;yandere❤️

[theycallmeratt]

Dance

Rejoining high society in Baldur's Gate had not gone smoothly, but in the slick way that only patriars could make something go "not smoothly". Like slipping down spiked ice. The process went quickly and slowly scraped away all of Wyll's resolve.

While Wyll was still a human, regular citizens seemed to regard him with the same discomfort as a tiefling—hell-touched, but maybe not his fault. Likely not his fault. He was, after all, the Blade of the Frontiers. And Karlach had taken every opportunity to remind everyone that he saved her. Perhaps, like a tiefling, he was simply paying for an ancestor's mistake.

But here, in high society, where everything was controlled and arranged, "bad blood" was a flaw worth judging. Most of the patriars had never actually met a tiefling, despite hundreds living in their city. Wyll suspected that his peers' frosty attitudes were less about the fact that he made a deal with a devil and more that he’d been caught.

Read more on AO3, or below the cut.

Nevertheless, whenever he returned from helping Karlach in Avernus, he played his part as a dutiful son: attending soirees, debutante balls, war games and gallery openings. He learned to coordinate his hair ornaments so his horns might also look like ornaments, to temper his smile so only his most human teeth showed, to keep his eyelids heavy so in dim light the red might be mistaken for brown. Harder to learn was to watch the dances and not hope to be invited, to accept that people assumed the thoughts he voiced were fiend-tainted and to settle for spending most events seated at his table, nursing a fine wine that tasted exactly as sour and dull as any wine he could get in the Lower City.

Hardest was to do it alone.

"A dance?" asked a voice. Wyll started at the proffered hand. The invitation might mean something… had Wyll not watched the asker and friends giggling over dares, then point to him and elbow each other as they drew straws.

"No thank you," he said.

"But—"

"He said no. You will leave," a low voice growled.

Wyll found himself looking up at Minthara and Astarion. The two least likely people he expected to see here. Coming to his defense. Astarion thought he was a pathetic fool and Minthara hated him even more than her standard Drow misandry. 

"How did you get in here?" Wyll asked.

"We were invited. At least, we should have been," Astarion said, hooking his arm through Minthara's. She immediately unhooked and pushed him a half step away.

"I am a hero of the city," Minthara said. "I am owed a certain amount of respect. If not given it, I will take it."

"You might learn something from her, darling," Astarion said.

"About breaking into parties?"

"About demanding what you are due. You saved this wretched place twice, after all."

"I didn't do it for respect."

"Ugh, I forgot how you you are."

"This conversation is going nowhere," Minthara said. Without looking, she grabbed a passing courtier, looked him over, shoved him back, grabbed another one and said, "Acceptable. Congratulations, boy. You will dance with one of the slayers of the Absolute!"

"Er—" said the courtier.

"He's an amazing dancer," Astarion drawled. "And you know what they say about amazing dancers."

"I don't need—" Wyll started, but Minthara gave him a look that suggested she would blow a blood vessel if a male said no to her.

"Sorry," Wyll whispered to the courtier, joining him in a circle dance. He held his hand up and straight out, ghosting over his partners' palms as they switched and circled, so close he could feel the heat coming off each of them. None of his partners made an attempt to speak to him, although they had no problem laughing and cajoling each other. After far too much time, the loneliest circle dance in the world ended.

Astarion caught him coming off the floor and dragged him back on, his hand cool on Wyll's. "Tell me, do you waltz?"

"Not with my friends!" The waltz was a scandalous dance, newly introduced with far too much contact. Wyll had practiced it alone in his rooms, imagining a kind partner, until he was so flushed he had to take a cold shower.

"Then allow me to expand your horizons. I'll lead," Astarion said, placing his hand politely high on Wyll's waist. "You really should come to the Lower City more. Everyone is asking about you. It's quite annoying. And you never wrote me back about slaying a spotted frilled cockatrice."

"I did! I told you not to try. A cockatrice is dangerous enough. Spotted and frilled? You're going to get yourself killed. Again."

"I suppose you'll just have to help me, then."

Wyll sighed. "I suppose I will."

"It'll be good for you! Look at you, when was the last time you saw some blood?"

"I've been in the blood wars!"

"Not fiend blood. Proper blood, blood you can really sink your teeth into." Wyll groaned. Why did Astarion insist on hinting at the vampire thing in public? "When was the last time you had a good fight?"

Too long. Everything itched. His collar was too tight. His everything filled with a yearning to escape. Magic tickled under his skin. He wanted to blast something, to hold someone. Not Astarion, who would make fun of him, or Minthara, who would stab him. Someone—

Minthara appeared suddenly. "Enough, Astarion. I have found him a new partner. A first son of a dignitary."

She shoved the poor man towards Wyll.

"I'm sorry about my friend," Wyll said.

"I'm sorry she hasn't brought you a daughter," he retorted. Wyll cringed. Minthara was… better, but still not as good as she could be. "Is she using me to insult you?"

"No. That's what third sons are for."

The son-of-a-dignitary laughed, a real open laugh, not the polite titters people had been using to appease the Duke. Wyll relaxed a little. 

"Your hands are… human," said the son-of-a-dignitary. "Linnacker said as much, of course, but with all the rumors going around…"

"Tis a shame when loose tongues flap about, embarrassing themselves," Wyll said, shocked to hear an Astarion sentiment march out of his polite mouth.

"Indeed! Especially after all you've done for the city. Your friend told me of how you single handedly outwitted a devil's contract, using a fiend to gain power, then saving the city twice! And to that, I say good show."

Wyll glanced to Minthara. She raised an eyebrow, clearly not in approval that he wasn't focused on her offering.

"Thank you," he said, and the dance turned into a fine conversation, the first one he'd had in months. The dance even ended with the son-of-a-dignitary waving over his sister, who was a marvelous dancer even though she was only fourteen. They led a line dance through the center of the ballroom. Minthara looked appalled. After, he was approached by another, and another. Some clearly saw him as a curiosity, but one introduced himself as a third-son and another made a brash joke about loose tongues, a clear invitation that Wyll gracefully turned down. By the end of the session he'd collected several calling cards and been invited to a card night at an Upper City lounge.

The life that he should've had, falling neatly into his lap, with only a few helping jabs by two white-haired multi-centurions. He raised a glass to Astarion as he was pulled past by a new friend and into a circle of other guests. 

"—just anyone in," said a pinch-faced woman. "And now listen to what they're saying. Vampires, running wild in the sewers. Tieflings taking over the Lower City! One controls the entire wizard's tower. How can we trust them? The first time a fiend so much as smiles at them, they'll run us through with those horns."

Wyll, who could only wear shirts with very large collars, went still. So did his companion. Astarion, like a shark to blood—no, no, like a vampire to blood, sidled up to the conversation, grinning maniacally.

"The city's gone to shit," said a hatchet-faced man. 

"Certainly the sewers were already there," Astarion said.

"Worse now, with that spawn filth crawling out and demanding we listen to them. I swear, the petitioners line at the courthouse smelt purely of feces. No one cares about your solar allergy and liquid diet. Szarr is dead. What more do they want?"

"Food," Minthara said. "There is a basic hierarchy of needs. Spawn are not immune to it. You might utilize it."

"Fine. They can bother the living after they've proven themselves useful and handled the rats."

Her arm jerked out to the side, luckily, because she caught Astarion right as he took a step forward.

Quickly, Wyll said, "They're victims. They and the tieflings. Don't you have any compassion?"

The pinched woman said, "It's not the burdens we bear, but how loudly we choose to bear them."

"I remember earlier this year, when merchant-master Grinhold came before the council asking for a grant because the almond harvest was poor," Wyll said. Her cousin, if he wasn't mistaken.

"He was advised last year to diversify," Wyll's companion said. "Druid's have been warning of a drought for months."

"That has nothing to do with this topic," snapped the woman.

"I thought we were speaking of burdens we bear and how we ought to be quiet about it," Wyll said. Gods, Astarion had clearly possessed his tongue.

"Some of us have been mighty quiet about it," said the sharp man, giving Wyll a look.

This was everything Wyll had hated about living in the city. Why had he poked these vultures?

"If you're speaking of my—our heroics against the Absolute—"

"Oh, please," snapped the pinched woman. "I've seen a brain before. It's not intimidating, not even giant. And a handful of backwater cultist? Any idiot taken in by that couldn't be a threat."

Wyll was so aghast at her flippancy his words stuck in his throat.

"The only reason the damage was so bad was that no one did anything until it actually summoned mind flayers," scoffed the sharp man. He gave Will a look that made it clear exactly who he was speaking about. 

"And what did you do?" snapped Minthara.

"I was vacationing by the seaside, if you must know. If I had been here—"

"I was vacationing by the seaside as well," Wyll said. "I came here."

The atmosphere felt heavy. Dangerous. They were speaking about honor, now, and history, and other foolish abstracts patriars loved to duel over. Loved to start wars over.

"Do not hold yourself in such high esteem," sneered the pinched woman. "You may be the son of a Duke, but my cousin—Lamora Whimpledimple—has told me about you."

"Oh? Interesting. She came to dinner last week." Wyll smiled warmly. He really did like Lamora. A funny woman who smoked like a damp fire and cackled like a hot one. "Lamora always has the most interesting stories about the most interesting people. Interesting, too, how she never mentioned you."

Astarion's eyes went wide, mouth twisting into a nasty grin. Minthara gave a single curt nod. The music swelled.

"You dare—" choked the pinched woman, before her companion pulled her back.

"Another dance?" Minthara asked Wyll, twisting her wrist. Tucked against her leg she held an open blade, a sickly green sheen on the metal.

"A dance?" he said, giving the smallest shake of his hand in regards to the blade.

With a flick of her wrist it disappeared under the cuff on her arm. "A dance," she repeated, holding out a hand.

Finally, an escape.

"Minthara, you do not need to dance with me," he said as they stepped away.

"I know. That is why I am not."

Then he was back on the floor, away from the conversation, sinking into the music. This dance was dizzying, his partners' palms pressing against his, now too much, too warm and too loud. Everyone wanted to touch him. His palms were wet with sweat, and he tainted the entire floor until he escaped to a balcony, swallowing hard, his collar threatening to choke him.

"I didn't know you had any skill with courtly intrigue," Astarion said, appearing next to him. "You always seemed so… pleasant. I must say, watching you cut with that sharp wit was a delight."

"I am good at many kinds of dances. I hate it," Wyll said. "The words are said and I cannot take them back. Everyone will remember this."

"Remember not to insult you."

"Remember that I would stoop to petty insults. I'm not that kind of person!"

For a moment, everything went quiet, then Astarion's cool, light hand alighted on his shoulder. "Defending yourself isn't being cruel."

"I didn't defend myself. I attacked both of them!"

"Some people will never stop until you show them you are not afraid to hurt them. Cheer up, Wyll. It could have been worse."

"How? Lamora Whimpledimple will hear of this."

"Yes, the woman hiring me to handle her little cockatrice problem. She will hear that you had a verbal spar with her cousin that she doesn't like and think, 'That lovely man who killed that spotted frilled cockatrice? He would never!' and continue hating her cousin. No, worse would be Lamora Whimpledimple getting news that her cousin died in a tragic accident, twitching ungainly on the dancefloor as Drow poison taught some respect."

"Good point. Oh, no, where is Minthara?"

"Stabbing the napkin stacks. She has a theory that she can get her blade all the way to the bottom in one go. Some seamsmith is about to make bank."

Well, it wasn't even midnight. Wyll was in his fanciest dress, he'd made his way around the dance floor half a dozen times, and finally given Lamora Whimpledimple's nasty cousin a piece of his mind. There was only one thing that could make this night better.

Wyll bowed when he approached Minthara and said, "Care to join us?"

"For what?"

"I fancy a final waltz. With a cockatrice."

"Good. No party was ever made worse by introducing blood."

Astarion grinned, flashing fang with abandon as he followed the two of them into the streets and out of town. Under the moonlight, to an orchestra of crickets, ducking under clawed wings, pivoting around the talons of a beast and weaving between two partners, Wyll got one final dance.

And Lamora Whimpledimple, when she came for dinner at the end of that week, didn't mention her cousin at all.

#bg3 wyll #bg3 minthara #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfic #wyll week 2024 #wyllweek2024 #wyll ravengard

[balkanradfem]

(I just realised how long this is after typing it out. my bad, i have a habit of yapping too much 😭. Feel free to ignore this if you want. I love your posts btw i learn a lot thanks to you)

radfems seem to be more successful in korea compared to other regions. they are good at organising and have done public protests where they absolutely don’t hold back, Here’s some footage from a korean feminist protest: https://youtu.be/O4vWycy0sDI?si=2KmBUQ7Jpp9prt_q

The way they don’t care about what people think and just start all out screaming at men is refreshing. They have many radfem forums and groups and the discussions in these websites is so much more practical than what I’ve seen here.

They are very focused on self improvement and achieving economic, political and social success compared to radblr which is more communist and promotes living in a little wooden cabin in the woods with some other women to be more eco friendly. Nothing against communism i just think while we’re already living in a capitalist society promoting communism in female spaces will just lead to women becoming poorer and oppressed further by rich men. And nothing wrong with being eco friendly either but I don’t think women living in a hut will do anything when men still at large continue to destroy the world. 

the main website korean women use to organise is called womad. It’s so much better than any feminist forum I’ve ever seen. It’s anonymous and usernames are automatically generated and change every hour or so so that no one can be recognized anywhere. The police have been trying to crackdown on them because of extreme misandry for a long time but all attempts have failed. 

From reading their posts it seems almost all of them have a good understanding of politics and economics. Their discussions are productive and they don’t have any infighting like radblr and they don’t let any other social issue distract them from the real enemy which is men. What do you think could be the reason behind this? Are korean women just intellectually superior? I personally feel like korean women have the highest iq of all women. I look up to them a lot and womad has taught me a lot.

They even have a women’s party in korea and they won around 200,000 votes which isn’t a lot but it’s still a huge achievement. Check out womensparty.kr 

I wish indian women would catch up. I’m sick of indian moids taking up every inch of space in this country. Every street in india is filled with moids, it’s so dystopian there are no women in sight. One would think only men live here. This is also the reason there’s so much fucking trash in the streets. These overgrown manchildren who have their mommys clean up after them go out and throw trash wherever they see fit and do not bother cleaning because that’s a woman’s job. Women can’t go out to exercise because every public space is occupied by men. I’m so so sick of them. 

Power to the korean women! I'm glad you're finding guidance and inspiration in the feminism they lead and that they're so successful, I admire it as well!

I'm standing by indian women and hope they manage to gain freedom! And until they do, we need to prop them up and also be on their side. Only males are our enemies :)

#korean feminism #indian feminism #passionate about feminism #anon you've learned so much #go and steer the women in the right direction :)

[genderisareligion7]

Remade my old url cause my sideblog has needed its own real main for a long time and I still need a place for my misandry memes that isn't the essay blog and I just can't let go of the damn url cause it still makes genderists uncomfortable and I'm fascinated lol anyway reblog this and help me find the mutuals I had with this url before thanks 🖤 Also I can finally follow y'all back and you'll know it's me

[usetheeauthor]

I’ll Make You Pay (Angst/Smut)

Inexperienced!Dr. Julian Albert x Dark!Fem!Reader

Dark/Sex Pollen Fic (18+ MDNI)

Summary: Julian, lonely and looking for some company and attention, stumbles upon your profile on a popular sugar daddy site. You decide to go for it needing the money for drugs. What happens when you take a drug that makes you extremely needy with Dr. Albert, whom, by the way, has no money to pay to you?

Word Count: 5.2k+

A/N: Ya’ll see that gif thooo!! Kissing and neck cuffing. I love me some daddy Felton! Wrote this partly for myself because there aren’t many fics about Julian Albert and it’s so criminal.

TW/Warnings: opioid abuse, car sex, semi-public sex, touch starved!julian/touch-sensitive!reader, reader is a villain, slight OOC!Julian, fuck or die, unhappy ending, graphic language, DUB CON (via sex pollen), attempted sexual assault, nonconsensual drugging, mentions of sexual abuse, depression, self harm, suicide, and grooming, misandry and mistrust of men, age gap (Albert in 30s and Reader in 20s), breath play, hinted sapiosexuality, blindfolding with tie, sensory deprivation, small mention of British accent kink, light mommy kink, daddy kink, doctor kink, small orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, dacryphilia, use of handcuffs, hair pulling, scratching, biting, lot of saliva, one moment of light choking, p in v (unprotected), oral (m receiving), small dom/sub dynamics, reader sluts out Julian 🔥😩

You were once a good girl. Polite, well mannered, always smiling. Then, all that changed when you met your first boyfriend. You were 15 and He was 25. To you, it didn’t seem wrong. It was only love to you. In his eyes, however, he saw someone he could mold. Down the line you found yourself selling your body for him but whenever he’d reward you with drugs all the pain went away. Now all you cared for was chasing down that high again and again. The kind of high that nobody else could give you through sex or any kind of intimacy. To you, drugs made life worth living.

When you were finally free from your boyfriend’s clutches, you thought you could change again. Leading a life of sobriety, you even went back to school to complete your GED.

It was all pointless. You ended up right back where you were even without him in your life. Suddenly, you went back to chasing that high. It was a cruel sick joke that life spun on you. Countless times you’ve thought of ending it all and you’ve attempted to no avail. At one point, even found yourself in a hospital after downing a bottle of pills. A person who’d found you unresponsive in your car saved you from dying. You didn’t even get a name or seen a face. Call it divine intervention if you will.

Even experiencing near death wasn’t enough to stop you. You took Vicodin as if it were just one of your daily vitamins.

Your lifestyle was expensive, though. These drugs were eating away at your savings. Of course, this meant that you had to look for ways to fund your lifestyle but your sensitivity to touch wouldn’t allow you to go back to that life where you’d prostitute your body for money and drugs.

You put up a profile on this site for sugar daddies and babies to meet. You looked for ones in particular that didn’t want any sexual favors. You were fine with giving pictures, attention, praise but nothing as far as that. But men in this world always preferred sex. That’s all they ever fucking wanted. It made you angry. They all wanted to use you and your body then toss you to the side. Where the hell were the men that just wanted a friend to give money to?!

Then, you’re eyes landed on his profile. The perfect sucker: nerdy, slightly reserved, shy. He was just your type. He didn’t ask for sex all he wanted was an ear to be lended to him. Swiping right, you anticipated his response when the text ‘it’s a match’ pops up on your screen.

You’re giddy to know that you’ve gotten the match although a part of you thinks it was just some loser catfishing you.That was until you recieved a message from him. Your interest is peaked.

*Text Messages*

Hello! I’m absolutely elated that we’ve matched.

-Julian

Hi 👋 Yeah I’m happy, too. Especially since you’re so cute.

-Y/N

😅 I appreciate the compliment.

-Julian

So, is this your first time?

-Y/N

Yes, I don’t usually do this kind of thing. But I could use someone to talk to after a tragedy in my family. People would say a therapist is the way to go but if I’m going to pay for someone to listen to my problems, I might as well give it to someone I find pretty. In a way, I’m using my money to support someone who actually needs it.

-Julian

You rolled your eyes and gagged a little at that. He’s definitely not a smooth talker but this just confirms that he does not have much experience with girls. No way would he try to make a move on you.

I’m sorry about the tragedy you experienced. I lost someone in my family as a kid. My dad. I don’t remember him much though. Anyway, everyone copes their own way. Nothing’s wrong with how you chose to cope.

-Y/N

You wanted to come in for the close, guaranteed that in no way that you would be doing anything sexually with this man.

So what are you looking for? I know you’ve got it on your profile but I’d like to know the specifics

-Y/N

Just a mate to share my thoughts or ramblings with. That’s all really. No sex. I’m not very good at that stuff, anyway haha

-Julian

You stare at the message, a smile slowly creeping onto your face. He was just the guy you’ve been looking for in the past months.

I can be that for you.

Y/N

So that day, Julian planned for you both to meet the following day. When you met him in person, he was even better looking. Soft blue eyes, slick blonde, and beard that frame his face in way that somehow added to his soft features. When he smiled, you could tell it was genuine. It was bright and wide. You couldn’t believe how warm and safe you felt whenever he’s flash that 100 watt smile.

Twice a month, on either Fridays or Wednesdays, you’d visit his city and he’d invite you to his home. He’d rant about things you obviously didn’t care about. Historical facts, stories about his archeologist adventures, and even his time in CSI. Most days, though, you would talk through video chat or messaging but you would treasure the times when you got to see his face physically.

You hadn’t noticed it but over the 6 months your heart began to flutter whenever he’d get so excited to tell you something. He’s so happy when he speaks with you. So pure. All because he just wants to be himself without any judgment of his social skills.

Why did part of you wish to have the courage to touch him someday?

But there were times where he could be quite arrogant. He had a right to be, you guessed. He is incredibly smart, after all. He even made a name for himself without the help of his family’s wealth.

It was one evening, you were both sat on his couch when things began to take a turn in a way you would have never expected.

“I once despised meta-humans. They get powers and suddenly it’s list of big bads wanting to control the world. During the meta-human outbreak, i used to question, ‘Why? Why couldn’t it have been me to get remarkable abilities?” Julian takes a sip of his hard liquor. “If I were given powers, I’d save the world. I understand that power can get to some heads. But I know I’d be so much more different. I would stop bad things from happening.”

“When I was a little girl,” You began. “I wanted to be a hero. Then, life showed me otherwise. Sometimes…the world doesn’t understand the villains.” You clutched your knees to your chest, looking up at him defiantly.

“You don’t mean that. Sure, you’re angry at the world but that doesn’t mean you’d want to watch it burn.”

“But what if I did? This world’s the reason why my dad’s dead, why my boyfriend used me, why I’m a fucking addict.”

“I thought I recognized you from somewhere,” He sits up straighter, turning his body to face you front on. “You overdosed in your car one night. You were unresponsive. I took you to the hospital immediately, hoping you’d pull through. I’m sorry I hadn’t stayed with you that night. I just didn’t want to crowd you for your recovery.”

Your eyes remained wide, you were speechless. He was the reason you were alive. He thinks that you should thank him or something!

“I never asked to be saved.” You say through gritted teeth.

“Life is tough. I get it.”

“The hell you do,” You rejected. “Rich boy from England but somehow you understand what the fuck I’ve been through.”

“I lost my sister to illness. Maybe I don’t know all that you’ve went through but I’ve lost someone I’ve loved, too,” He says and you can tell he meant what he said.

“I’d do anything to see her again. I’ve had chances where I could’ve brought her back once again. Those chances meant dire consequences for everyone else. I had to learn to let go for the protection of our world. Sometimes love requires great sacrifices, great hurt, great trauma but that shouldn’t stop you from believing—” He places a hand on your knee in a moment of sincerity.

You quickly jump away and he immediately retreats his hand. “I do apologize.” He rushes to say.

“I have to go.” You gathered your things in a haste.

“I really didn’t mean to, Y/N,” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I respect your boundaries.”

“You don’t have to pay me for the night. I haven’t stayed the whole night so you’re off the hook. Goodnight.” You awkwardly bowed down, before walking out.

You made up your mind to relieve some stress driving to your dealer’s trap house with what little money you had, you brought a new drug he advertised to you.

“This right here will get you right. You snort it up and you’ll feel that high your looking for. Even the supers look for this. It’s called Supernova Spice.” Mickey says.

“I’m sold.” You say, examining the crystal blue powder in the little baggie.

“Yeah, just take it here. I don’t want you driving with that shit in your system. It’s your first time and I want you to be safe.”

You rolled your eyes. “I guess but you’ll have to line it up from me.” You smile and extended the ziplock bag to him.

He takes the power dumping it onto the table and making one big line for you and holds out the straw. You take the straw and just as you were about inhale it you look at him.

“You don’t wanna share the line, Mick?”

“Nah, I already had a line.”

You shrugged, snorting the substance. Soon as you did, Mickey began to caress your back. You froze, turning your gaze to him.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“You feeling anything yet.” His hand travels down your butt.

“Mick, y-you know that’s not okay. I know we’re friends but I’m not comfortable with those kind of touches.”

“You’ll love it.” He scoots over and tried to place a kiss on your neck. You push him away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“You’re gonna die if you don’t fuck me, bitch. Might as well give me some—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He doesn’t answer, jumping on top of you as you kicked and screamed. Then, you heard someone burst through the front door. Julian had found you, taking the disgusting assaulter and throwing him to the ground.

Mickey scrambles on the ground, trying to get up but ends up curling in a ball and groaning in pain. Julian ignores him, focusing his attention on comforting you.

“Are you okay?” He says, eyes as wide as saucers. He was really concerned for you.

“Yes.” You stand on your feet from the couch.

“Come with me. We’re getting you out of here.” He says.

You nod, following after him. The dealer calls out to you and you both turn to look at the pitiful man. “What about me? I’m gonna die. I took the Supernova Spice.”

“Supernova Spice?! The police will be on their way here anyway. They’ll get you the help you need. Y/N, we’re going.” Julian’s delivery is stern and you almost feel like you’ve seen some kind of dominant nature. So this was how he was like when in action. You shouldn’t have found that to be so enticing.

You get into his car and he immediately drives off, not saying a word to you, jaw clenched.

“How’d you know where to find me?” You say breaking the silence.

He doesn’t speak at first, keeping his eyes on the road. He’s angry.

“I said, ‘How’d you find me?’”

“I followed you. I figured you’d be making a trip to the dealers.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“The man that just saved your life. Twice might I add,” He scoffs, glancing at you incredulously before donning a serious tone. “We need to get you to my lab. If what he gave you is actually Supernova Spice then you can be in serious trouble.”

“I’m not going anywhere further with you. Not until you pay me.”

“Pay you?! You were literally willing to spend all you had. I won’t allow you to continue this cycle of abuse on yourself.”

“You’re gonna fucking pay. You’ll pay for not letting me die and you’ll pay for wasting my time.”

“No.”

“Stop the car.” You demanded.

“I’m getting you to a lab.”

“I said, ‘Stop’.” You held your hands out in front of you.The car abruptly stops.

You look over to Julian who’s looking back at you, stunned. “H-how’d you do that?”

“Do what?” You asked, quietly.

“You said stop and the car won’t budge now.”

You look down your hands. You notice at the corner of you eyes, Julian went to reach for the walkie in his car only for the walkie to be practically dead.

“Y-you’re meta-human. How?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t care. Take me to back to Mickey’s place. I’m gonna kick his ass then take all his shit.”

“Y/N, you won’t do that.”

“I fucking will. I can do what I want now that I have powers. I will get my revenge. Just as I did with Dan.”

“Who’s Dan?”

“My first boyfriend. I’m sure I killed him. I never remembered how. Just blacked out then woke up and he was right in front of me, dead. No blood. No weapon. Doctors said he had a heart attack. But I dreamt that I was the one who stopped his heart. Now I know how. I didn’t recognize my power. My strength. Now I can hurt those who’ve hurt me. Starting with Mickey.”

“Power doesn’t equate strength.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenge him, stretching out your hand and commanding your power. The car begins to rock back and forth violently.

“Just stop it!” He calls out.

You stop all movements, looking at him with a huge smirk on your face. “That takes strength to me. Drive.”

“I’m not taking you anywhere. I won’t participate in any form of criminal activity you wish to partake in. My friends know I should be heading over to the lab. They’ll come looking for me if they realize I’m missing. You’ll end up in prison.”

You swore your remembered he had some kind of affiliation with The Flash. He did work for the law enforcement so it wasn’t farfetched.

“I don’t think so,” You outstretched your hand to him and he flies out the driver’s seat onto the hard pavement of the empty street. He’s knocked out cold. “Goodbye, doctor.”

You hopped into the driver’s seat. Just you were about to speed off, you felt an overwhelming sensation coming over you. You were overheated, an aching throb between your legs. You groaned, knowing that the only person who could help you was this dork.

Finding a pair of handcuffs from his glove compartment, you latched them onto his wrists. Dragging him and hiking him up into the passenger’s seat. You entered the driver’s side, looking for a way to bring him back into consciousness but he’s already stirring awake.

He looks down at his wrists, eyes shifting to you. He seethes.

“What’s wrong with me?” You pant, the feeling was becoming unbearable. You squeeze your thighs together.

Julian notes your discomfort. Instead of assisting, he makes a tactless remark. “Like I’d help you. I’ve rescued a murderer. Twice. Christ, I’m shite at everything.” He dry laughs.

You feel yourself begin to feel faint, hyperventilating for air. He grows concerned for you understanding your symptoms had reached extreme levels of danger. Despite what Julian knows about you now, he couldn’t see himself letting you suffer.

“What’s happening to me?” You asked again, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please.” You added.

He sighs. “You’ve ingested a highly potent dose of a drug known as Supernova Spice or …sex pollen. It raises your hormone levels at an alarming rate.”

“How can I stop this? It hurts so badly. I need…I need something.”

“If you let me, I can give you the directions to my lab. I can help you.”

“No, I won’t let you trick me. I’ll look for my own help. Give me your money,” You stretch your hand in his direction ready to attack again if he didn’t comply. “Now.”

“Obviously, I can’t reach it for it. It’s in my right pocket but you’ve cuffed me.”

You groan, understanding that this meant you’d have to touch him. You shivered at the thought. It’d been so long since you’d touched any man. 3 years exactly. You’d known Julian for 6 months but the thought of you touching him spooked you. You had to push that fear aside in a desperate attempt to leave before his reinforcements arrived.

Leaning over the console, you reach over to his right pocket. You were leaning over his lap. You can smell the scent of his cologne wafting passed your nostrils. The indirect touch of your fingertips scanning his clothed thigh for his pocket causing your stomach to tingle with want.

It’s dark. The only lighting being the streetlight you were parked under. You looked up at him. His eyes are dark and intense. The throbbing between your legs increases and your heart races. Instead of its mission to find the money, your hand grips his inner thigh hard. Right near the area you craved to have inside you.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, looking down at you confused. You ignored him crawling over and straddling him in his seat. At this point, Dr. Albert knew the drug had taken over your actions and soon you’d be in your final stages of the effects. Saving you this time would mean considering alternative options. A particular option he’d suggest, would worry him in how you’d take it. But Julian didn’t need to suggest anything because it seemed like you’ve already considered it.

You take his cuffed wrists, looping them around your body so that you were trapped in his embrace. You shivered once again at the touch of a man. A man whom you���ve desired for a while now too afraid to admit.

Now Julian is breathing hard, understanding where this would be going. He feels your lips ghosting over the sensitive flesh of his neck so exposed and vulnerable for you to bite. So you do. This earns a surprised moan from him. You smile against his neck. So, he liked pain.

Soon you were peppering soft kisses all over his neck. Your fingers entwined in his now messy hair. You didn’t recognize yourself. You’d gone feral, kissing, sucking, and biting at the flesh while grinding yourself on his lean thigh. Even with the barriers of your cotton underwear and his suit pants, he can feel your sopping wet core leaking through his khakis.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered in his ear between kisses. “I don’t know what’s come over me. My intention isn’t to force anything on you. But I just need you.” The last part came out as a whine.

Julian makes an attempt to speak but your lips soon cover his. You’re the opposite of your former self. A once touch sensitive girl, now all you craved was his touch.

You began to suck on his tongue, shifting your position so that now you could grind directly on his hard erection. He tastes like coffee. The kiss as addicting as the caffeine. Even closely addicting as drugs.

You’re deepening the kiss, desperate for more. Moaning and groaning, your sounds egged him on and he’d slowly lose his restraint.

The sounds of lip smacking and wet tongues wrestling fill the empty space of the car atmosphere. Putting his cuffed hands up and over again so that they were placed between your bodies, you brought them around your neck. You bite your lip at the feeling of his large, veiny hands squeezing around your delicate throat. If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d uncuff him and let him freely put his hands all over you. For now, though, you were glad relishing in this feeling. Was this what you were missing?

You suck his tongue back into your mouth, him groaning at the action. Julian didn’t know much of sex. He kept to himself, most of the time, and he’d been okay with it. Then, he met you and suddenly he began to question things but he knew it’d never happen between you. Now he’s eating his words. You were hungry for him and him only. He’s never had a woman aggressively begging to be fucked by him. But then again, she under the influence of the sex pollen something he had to remind himself of in order to pull away.

He almost felt bad when he saw the disappointed look on your face. “I know a way you can save yourself without us having to do anything. You can…masturbate. It won’t be much but it can help calm your stress levels before—”

“No,” You’re solemn with your words, whispering softly against his lips. “Please let me fuck you, Dr. Albert. If I don’t get to have you tonight…I’m not sure what I’d do.”

You had a ‘doctor’ kink. Interesting. Julian quickly shakes off this horny thought. “You don’t want me, Y/N. It’s only the drug. We can still get you some help.

“No help. Just you.” You popped the buttons of his shirt and they scatter all over the car. You also tear at the flimsy white undershirt. Then, you unlooped the tie around his neck. You needed to feel his naked chest on you. Placing wet kisses on him, his chest hair and the happy trial were doing wonders for you. It felt as if you need to feel every inch of him as possible to cure you of your pain.

You were scared at how vulnerable you allowed yourself to be. You’ve never recalled a moment where you were this affectionate with a partner. “I need your cock so bad.” You whine some more.

“Use me,” Julian says, giving in. He’s shocked by his own words. It was as if he’d received contact effects of the sex pollen. Just as horny and desperate for you as you are for. “Use me however you wish. I can’t say I’ll be any good but I can assist—”His words are cut when you began to blow on neck. He shivers.

Using his tie, you put it over his eyes. He’s frustrated at the idea that he’s not allowed to look or touch you but it quickly dissipates when he feels you sliding down his body. The clanking of his belt buckle and your heavy breaths fill the air.

You were on your knees in front of him, impatiently trying to free his large member from its restraints. When he’s freed, his cock slaps against his soft belly with a thud.

He was painfully hard and twitching in sight. The pink swelled tip of his dick leaking precum. You licked your lips at its beauty. You lick shyly at the tip earning a hiss from his lips.

A dangerous twinkle in your eye appears when you savor his taste. You were uncontrollable, wrapping your warm mouth around him; bobbing and sucking as if he were the world’s tastiest lollipop.

His moans are loud. He’s worried that should a cop pass by this road, they would for sure know what was going on. He can’t stop himself from raising his volume no matter how hard he’d bite his lip. The blindfolding only enhanced his pleasure. Not to mention he’s never had a girl go down on him. He’s always been the one to give never expecting in return.

All the built time of no sex would soon flood him. He was going to cum soon. You were relentless, sucking hard then softly. Then you’d swirl your tongue around the tip and occasionally scrape your teeth light on the base.

You gagged around him, playing with yourself with the matching the rhythm of his groans and your bobbing. Your moans sending vibrations to his dick. He throbbing against your tongue.

“Holy fuck! Mummy, I’m gonna cum.”

‘Mummy’. You loved the sound of that. His accent only adding more to your horniness. You wanted to ruin him for anyone else.

You couldn’t let him cum, though. That needed to be inside you. There will be plenty of times where you’ll allow him to cum in your mouth but something told you that he needed to cum deep within you.

You pulled away and he groans. You blow air on his chest letting him feel your breath tickling his skin. It was such a tease. You spit on his cock, jerking him in your hands before pulling down your panties and straddling him. Hiking up your skirt, you sink yourself on his hard length and the two of you let out a satisfying groan.

You began to bounce on his cock in a feverish frenzy. But in a desperate need to be close as possible, you resorted to grinding on Julian’s thick, curved cock instead. He thrusts up into you. All could do was feel the pressure of your walls constricting him deep inside you. You were so wet that you were positive you’ve stained his seats. The gushing wet noises emitting from your bodies causing more of your juices to flow.

“Fuck, you’re so bloody tight.” Julian says. His vocals are strained.

You uncuff and remove his blindfold in a hurry, still rocking into him. Instead of pushing you off, he wraps an arm around your waist, the other gripping your ass to guide you. You pull off your shirt and bra allowing your breasts to press against his chest. Your hardened peaks grazing against the hairy chest adding on to the pleasure.

The two of you are grinding hard to meet each other’s thrusts. You can feel the tip of his cock nudging against the soft spot inside you. You sink your teeth into his shoulders, one of your hands wrinkling his buttonless shirt in a fist, while the other scratched down his back.

“Fuck, you’ve got a big cock. You’re making me feel so good and full, daddy. Making me drip all over you.”

“I’ll cum if you keep talking like that.” He whines only to end up spilling inside you without warning.

You feel his hot spurts of cum, coating your walls. He’s whimpering as he clutches you close to him, orgasm so intense that tears pricked the corners of his eyes. It was so sudden, so unexpected. He’s embarrassed at the idea that he came so fast, looking up at you in shame. What he hadn’t known was…you actually found it hot.

“I’m sorry. I think I might’ve…,” He trails off, not wanting to meet your eyes. “It’s been a long time.”

You grind down on him again, your mouth returns onto his again as you do so. His soft length stirs awaken inside you again. Your hands tug at his hair. You’re kissing him so hard it felt as if his soul was being sucked from his body.

He’s sensitive from his release. A mix of pain and pleasure as you continue to rock onto his hard cock. You pull away from the kiss, breathing in each other’s air.

“It hurts.” He whimpers against your lips.

“You want me to stop, doctor?” Your hips moving in deep, shallow circles. Sloshing and squelching from your mixed juices louder than your moans. It was disgustingly hot.

“No.” His nails dig into the soft flesh on your ass.

Grinding so close against him, your clit rubs deliciously against his belly. You groan, sinking your nails into his sides to rut against him with added support.

You felt your orgasm slowly approaching. The aching you felt a while ago long replaced with a feeling of euphoria. You’re chasing your high, staring intensely into his eyes.

“I’m coming again.” He mewl, teary-eyed.

He hits hard against that button inside you and you see white, biting hard into his neck as you came. You were violently shaking, moan in repeated succession. A large puddle of wetness under you and all over him. You’ve squirted for the first time. Ever.

“Oh fuck!” He came deep inside you once again. The sticky white fluid dosing the fire that burned within you.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, still trembling as you rest your chin on his shoulder. You were breathing hard, reeling and processing everything.

He rubs at your back. You knew it was sweaty—you were both really sweaty—but he still managed to comfort you and you no longer felt the need to twitch in his touch even with the effects of the drug wearing off.

“This shouldn’t have happened.” He says softly through his light panting.

“I know,” You nuzzled in his neck. “You’ll turn me in. Won’t you?”

“I don’t think you killed your boyfriend.”

“But I did. I killed them all. All the men who’ve paid for my body, my boyfriend, and soon…Mickey.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

You pull off him already mourning the loss of him inside you. You’re back in the driver’s seat. You get dressed, sliding your underwear back on your body before his cum could leak down your legs. “Then, you’ll have to turn me in.”

“I can’t.” He says, avoiding your stare again and adjusting his pants and what’s left of his shirt.

“Why not?”

“Because I care for you, okay. I know we’ve only officially known each other for half a year but I just want to make sure you’re okay. I don’t think you’re evil. I think you’ve wanted to be rescued all along.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress.”

“You’re not. But everyone needs help. Even heroes. You were there for me. You listened to me when I felt as if I couldn’t live a life where I felt ignored.”

“Only because I was getting paid.”

“You didn’t care to take the money only during the times when you badly craved those drugs. I see that you wish to be good. That with the right connection, you could get better. You and I, need each other more than we’ve ever realized.”

“When you say that…it makes me believe you. Yet, I still have my doubts.”

“It’s okay, too, have issues trusting others,” His hand goes up in an attempt to touch your cheek, stopping himself when he remembered your preference for touch. You permit him, taking his hand and placing it on your cheek. “Put your trust in me. I can help you.”

You kissed his palm. “I…I can’t. I’m sorry.” You ran out of the car into the dark of the night, refusing to look back or you’d never leave his arms.

He’s stunned at your decision, unable to move. A whip of wind swarms around him. The Flash arriving. He’d just missed you. However, Julian missed you now and always.

#tom felton #tom felton x reader #the flash #the flash cw #the flash cast #julian albert #julian albert x reader #julian albert x reader smut #julian albert x reader angst #the flash x reader #the flash x you #barry allen x reader #the flash cw fanfiction #the flash fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter au #harry potter smut #draco malfoy x reader smut #harry potter x reader #dark!reader #dark fic #dr julian albert #draco malfoy #julian albert/alchemy #smutty fic #sex pollen #fanfiction

[booksandpaperss]

some ramble-y thoughts on men's social isolation and women's safety bc this has been on my mind for a bit

I do think it's really sad how men end up feeling so isolated bc of various social expectations as well as people being cruel, but as a fem presenting person I have to say that you can't just expect women and anyone who is fem presenting to just "start being nicer". ive seen a few posts on Tumblr essentially stating that but I have to reiterate it is about safety. I literally cannot afford to stop looking at men with caution and assumed violence until I get to know them really well bc if I stop that could genuinely cost me me life. its true that most men I see probably are not predators and im sure it hurts to be perceived that way, but I have no way of being able to tell who is and isn't going to harm me. I have to assume the worst because it is the only way I can stay safe.

it sucks, it really does, for all parties involved. I have so much sympathy for the men who are genuinely kind and would never hurt me that feel isolated, it isn't fair, and I myself certainly don't enjoy the *necessary* fear that the random guy im passing on the street could see me and decide to hurt me, but this is the reality of the world. there is no easy solution, but what certainly isn't a solution is expecting women to start being kinder to men they dont know because once again: that could genuinely cost someone their life.

The best solution right now I think is to continue to try to deconstruct misogyny and gender roles, and that takes time, patience, and understanding.

I have also seen the notion on here that men feeling isolated socially is misandry, but the reality is that misandry is simply not real on a systemic scale. men feeling isolated is a direct result of the patriarchy and a side affect of misogyny. a lot of things on this website that are perceived as misandry are either not real problems or they are but they're just the impacts of misogyny and the gender roles that come with it.

But it is very surreal to be walking alone at night, clutching my pepper spray and glaring whenever a man I don't know is near me, making sure to stay next to the street and make it obvious I know exactly where I'm going and still feeling the fear that it might not be enough and something horrible could happen to me anyway, only come back to Tumblr and see people saying misandry is just as prevalent as misogyny and women need to start considering how it feels for men to be looked at like they're predators. Touch grass seems like an applicable statement here.

oh and obligatory piss on the poor tumblr disclaimer: I know I am using binary terms so before any of you get on your high horse about it, I myself am non binary. I am not actually a woman, but I certainly look like one and therefore deal with misogyny. I fully understand that trans men and genderqueers of all kinds as well as even feminine cis men also fear for their life on the street so dont even think abt getting on my ass about that. oh and if any of you try to call this a terf post consider yourself blocked with a recommendation to get a refresh on what terf actually means instead of just throwing around the term when you see any post trying to talk about misogyny :D

final disclaimer bc I wanna cover all my bases due to Tumblr reading comprehension: im aware topics like this are very nuanced with lots of layers, please dont act like im obligated to cover all that in a random Tumblr post of all things, I cannot possibly cover everything nor am I obligated to. I simply wanted to remind ppl that actual lives are at risk and fem presenting people constantly and regularly fear for their life bc I feel like that gets left out a lot in conversations like this on here. <3

#elli's random thoughts #women's safety #mens mental health #feminism #no idea what else to tag this so im just gonna throw it into the void #plus I do not want this to end up getting around to actual terf blogs ugh

[doberbutts]

Honestly it's so baffling to me when people on this website claim that Misandry isn't real or men are all privileged oppressors and etc.

Like... I've been on this website for MANY years and I see, on a daily basis:

Jokes about how all men are awful at sex, don't know where the clitoris is, don't know where women urinate from, etc.

Jokes about men having small penises, being gross smelly neckbeards, and other types of body shaming

Posts about how men are all evil, violent rapists or that they will assault or rape someone with no hesitation if given the chance

Posts about how men are pedophiles, groomers, etc. for being interested in children's media or cartoons

Posts making fun of men for having "childish" hobbies like building legos, playing video games, etc.

Posts listing off dangerous, creepy things men do and the entire list is just different symptoms/signs of mental illnesses or learning disabilities

Literal posts about how men should all be eliminated/killed

I could go on and on. I almost lost one of my male friends to suicide because he had severe depression and started hating himself because EVERYONE was constantly reblogging posts about how awful/dangerous/evil men were.

Men DO face problems due to their gender, especially POC, trans, MLM, etc. men. They have basically zero resources if they're victims of abuse/assault/rape and in some places aren't even legally recognized as rape victims, are seen as disposable and not in need of protection and forced to do dangerous jobs, not to mention police violence against male minorities.

It's just so upsetting. I just wish people would be nice to each other and I don't understand why people act this way. It's not a black-and-white issue of "This group is full of dangerous monsters who need to be eliminated, and this group is full of innocent poor abuse victims and there is no nuance at all".

I'm sorry for ranting in your inbox about this, it just upsets me so much.

And, the problem is, some of these things are well earned by men who refuse to do better.

An ex of mine admitted sometimes he had a hard time finding the clit on past encounters with others and funny enough when I was like "bro how it's RIGHT THERE" he was like "stfu yours is HUGE it's unmissable ok of course I could find yours it's the first thing I saw when you took off your clothes they're not usually that big" which is how I got the first hint that I'm intersex. And in fairness some people are just very small- a trans guy I know has occasionally struggled when in an encounter with someone pre-T or no-T and it's effectively microscopic because that's just how that person's body works.

But I've also known cis men who genuinely think girls pee out of their vaginas [again, in fairness, lack of sex ed due to conservative christian upbringing + cis men do in fact pee out of their sexual organ so it's not that big of a logical leap to make], who don't understand literally anything about menses [again, all emissions from a penis are more or less controllable + the concept of uncontrollable bleeding from a penis for a week straight would have most guys in the ER + lack of sex ed], "what size pussy you wear" type dudes [which, again, for all penis-equivilant things, knowing the size does matter]... as well as women who are unsatisfied by their partners' performances and yet refuse to tell them.

I'm not on tiktok but one crossed my dash of a black guy saying he had no idea that when girls put their hands on his abdomen while he's having sex with them, it's because he's hurting them and they're trying to push him away, because of the angle there's just no leverage to actually push. He thought it was encouragement to go harder. His current partner explained it and he immediately felt so terrible thinking back on all the times he's unknowingly hurt someone for his pleasure. Communication is a two-way street, how was this man supposed to improve if his partners are not communicating "when I do this I want you to stop because you're hurting me"?

Yes, some men are just allergic to giving their partners pleasure, and are inherently selfish in bed. But, also, I myself have hard lines I draw and I'm not willing to cross them even if my partner really wants me to. And some of these lines *are* acts that are very common to find in most bedrooms. Again, communication- is he actually allergic to eating pussy because he thinks vaginas are inherently disgusting outside of when his dick's inside one and he doesn't think girls can orgasm, or is he just incredibly turned off by that act but is more than willing to experiment in other ways to bring his partner pleasure? One of these guys is a pissbaby and the other is just a dude with a boundary.

Big sigh.

Now that I am around men, cis men, more often, I find that like in everything there's nuance and perspective.