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#feminism headers
spurgie-cousin · 5 months
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goddammit another one of my posts got into the t*rf sphere so here's just some damage control before they start following me again: I LOVVVEEE TRANS WOMEN TRANS WOMEN FOREVER!!!! TRANS! WOMEN! RULE!!!! FUCK OFF
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made myself a new header image!! :)
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radfemboards · 6 months
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Orange Radfem Header for anon - her ask linked here. The second and third options should be what works as a mobile header. Let me know if none of them work or if you want something tweaked.
Orange flower PNGs https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393335100571648?source=share
2. Word "Women" from larger graphic that reads "Women Don't Need Makeup - Makeup Needs Women" https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393328576331776?source=share
3. Orange color gradient https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393323926978560?source=share
4. "Women Need Female Only Spaces" with orange lampreys - https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393306568884224?source=share
5. Pussies drawn in fruits - https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393293758414848?source=share
6. Woman appearing in the pith of an orange - https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393287933640704?source=share
7. There Will Be No Womens Liberation Without Revolution, There Will Be No Revolution Without Womens Liberation graphic - https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393283109076992?source=share
8. Exclusive Same Sex Attraction is Not Wrong or Bigoted graphic - https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393278447173632?source=share
9. Butterfly PNGs - https://www.tumblr.com/radfemboards/731393272048746496?source=share
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are you gonna hurt me now? or are you gonna hurt me later?
-Lana Del Rey, 'Flipside'
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unyanizedcatboys · 1 year
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I hate to say this but maitakecat is trandphobic and complains about "tras" on their blog
Didn’t even know who that was for a sec but i deleted the rb and blocked em yeah thanks mate
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knucklestheenchilada · 7 months
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Heyyyyy could any radfems/terfs that see this post pretty please interact with me! It's not just so I can block you, I promise 👉👈
I even have a cute lil ask box you can play with ✨Pleeeease come and tell me why my family deserves to be seen as less than human!!! 😊
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ipegchangbin · 1 year
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— smudgeproof
sub!model!felix x dom!makeup artist!reader
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There’s a new lipstick that claims to be make-out-proof. You, with your makeup expertise, naturally decide to test it on your model boyfriend, Felix: except he’s the one that gets to wear it. 
🏷 gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics), smut, fluff, some humor, established relationship, porn with barely any plot. 
🏷 petnames “mommy” and “baby girl,” unprotected sex, feminization kink, slight oral and hand fixation, marking, butt plug (felix using), thigh riding, fingering (felix receiving), overstimulation, male squirting, lots of teasing, voyeurism mention, no specifics about y/n’s physique. 
w/c: 8.8k
a/n: happy (hopefully not late) valentine’s day! to celebrate, i finally present to you the long overdue felix-gets-fucked fic! based on my thought piece, this concept has been on my mind ever since. i kept rewriting this fic but i drew the header art so fast LMAO icb i finished it!! otherwise, enjoy!
18+ only. minors do not interact.
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On slow days, you would often find yourself bored in the makeup store. Your boyfriend, Lee Felix, would probably be just as bored, sitting in the chair of his set. Your notifications were as empty as the barren shop.
After two aimless scrolls down your Instagram feed, you realized that you hadn’t posted anything recently and hadn’t texted Felix that day.
The afternoon sun brought in waves of humid air throughout the city, setting everyone back from a trip around the shops. You peered over at the conversation with your boyfriend as you thought about ways to kill time.
It wasn’t uncommon to go for a while without contacting each other. It had been years since you two became official, after all, and comfortable silence had become a given that you both simply indulged in. That didn’t take your mind off of the boredom, though, and your fingers itched to do something. They found Felix’s contact on your phone, bedazzled with an embarrassing nickname and profile picture. 
It stung to think that if you weren’t looking at his endearing profile, you would instead settle for some sort of creeping guilt of not posting anything on your social media page after a while. Either way, you shot him a message.
you: lix, wya? you: im bored as hell
Considering Felix’s work as a professional model, he would probably reply in less than ten minutes. You thought to turn your phone off and play with the freshly-cleaned makeup brushes on the makeup store’s vanity counter while waiting.
But this is Lee Felix, the sunshine of your days, and you didn’t have to wait any longer than two seconds.
lixie: Am at the shoot I told u about lixie: Bored too tbh LOL
Even if he typed in a silly way, you couldn’t help but love him.
He’d always been your go-to person to unwind and be yourself around. Starting as best friends gave you both a jumpstart to be comfortable around the other. People would say it worked a little too well especially since you two had become the most seriously unserious couple in the creative industry.
That fact made him understand you more than anyone else: you were both creatives. Your heart belonged to the artistic liberties of makeup and beauty, while his heart belonged to the ethereal realm of modeling and fashion. Your two hearts found each other, which was almost perfect for the adjacent businesses. He collaborated with you on makeup challenges. You came to his sets as his “preferred makeup artist.” He understood you whenever you ranted about stupid trends and declining engagement in your channels.
With that, could tell him about your uneventful day and equally uneventful social media pages, but you refrained from complaining more than dropping a passing mention.
you: idrk what to do there are no customers you: and i havent posted anything new you: but its not like theres much to do lixie: Well you’re the genius one here! lixie: Got art block or something?
The prompt response caught you off guard. Almost as if you have forgotten, this was Felix, and he always sensed whenever something was wrong.
As if he had some sort of radar or emotion detector, he always just knew how you were. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had always been in the proximity of your face, observing your concentration as you put eyeliner on him before shooting. Maybe that connection stuck with him after years of being together, and it had remained strong to the point that he could feel it from miles away, staring emptily into the face of some other random MUA. 
Alas, you found yourself overthinking again. You would rather overthink about your relationship than your semi-abandoned creative efforts, though.
you: well i guess you can call it that. im just conscious since i havent really posted you: idk what to do next. ive done everything lixie: How about, “Boyfriend does my makeup drunk edition”? :D you: boring ! lixie: “Makeup tut but bf does my voiceover”? :D you: just because it got views doesnt mean its worth doing a fifth time >:(( lixie: I’m kidding LOL 
The scowl on your face reflected on the mirror sitting in front of you. You knew that if only Felix saw it right now, he would have lost his mind trying to turn it upside down.
You were right though. You two did everything.
My boyfriend does my makeup? Done, and he did an okay job at it. “The boy beat” makeup tutorial featuring Felix? Damn right he did. Boyfriend does my voiceover? It was so good that you guys did it four times and everyone fell in love with the deep timbre of his voice contrasted with his surprising amount of knowledge. Even if it was easy to collaborate with him, it was hard to create something new and unique. On the contrary, your audience fell in love with you two. It’s nice to watch a model and a stylist practice their art together.
Lost for ideas, you decided just to tease him instead.
lixie: So? No ideas in that pretty head? you: i got one thing in mind lixie: And what might that be? you: having you here you: in my arms you: to kiss up and call pretty :>
It was a thing that you usually did since you loved how he always reacted so pricelessly. He didn’t disappoint with his response, the notifications popping up not even half a minute after your last message.
lixie: HNDNSABNNDJS lixie: Don’t tease me unprompted!! lixie: ;__;
You’re so grateful that he’s always up to play with you.
You thought deeply — too deeply for a situation like this — and scanned the store shelves and storage room for ideas.
You wondered what he would be up to right now.
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Felix was stunned.
Done-up in the most expensive face and hairstyle he’s rocked to date, adorned with an unbuttoned suit jacket that one could only dream to wear, he was supposed to look like the stunner. His pecs were only barely hidden and the midsection of his upper body was almost entirely exposed.
Instead, he was the speechless one. He wasn’t shocked by the cold air seeping through his revealing outfit, but his hair raised at your messages.
Your teasing usually should not affect him this much, but today, it was something different. The whole day, all he could think about was you. His mind went to your first meeting. Earlier, he got deja vu as one of the stylists applied lipstick on him. It felt familiar, the feeling of a senior stylist’s hand resting on his face as a brush glided along the perimeter of his mouth. All it lacked was the stunning view of your face in particular. It reminded him of the first time you ever laid eyes on him, and it was to check on his eyeshadow. You stared at each other for too long, exchanged numbers after the shoot, and the rest was history.
He was pissed, to say the least, that you weren’t the assigned stylist for the shoot this time. Nothing could ever compare to the focused look you gave him as you fixed the corners of his mouth with the smooth swipe of your pinky finger.
He craved that touch again.
“Yo,” a dragged-out sigh whisked through the air. “You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep that jaw open.”
Felix looked up from his phone to find Hyunjin, his best friend and one of the junior photographers on set, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He had his bleached blond hair half-up, tied messily to complete his so-called “intern look.” Most of the senior directors and photographers on set confused him for a model.
“Am I interrupting some kinda internal monologue sesh?” Hyunjin smiled, leaning behind Felix’s chair, raising a brow at him through the reflection. 
“No, I just—”
“He’s thinking about Y/N again.” Jeongin, their other best friend, popped from behind the vanity, carrying Hyunjin’s abandoned camera. 
The two were interns at the studio. Both were very bored art students looking for a job to pass the time by. Jeongin was there to work as a personal assistant and was mistaken for a stylist considering his fashion sense. His behavior around set proved otherwise, though, since he spent the entire day prodding at everyone’s business.
Felix was no exception as a victim.
“Imagine flirting online,” Hyunjin chuckled while reaching for the camera. Jeongin handed it out to him, only to swing his arm back, teasing the older.
Jeongin dismissed the frown on Hyunjin’s face and fiddled with the camera. “Yeah, cut your significant other some slack, they must be busy at the store or something,” he added.
“Nah, they aren’t.”
Hyunjin snagged the camera back. “Editing a Youtube video?”
“That’s exactly why they messaged me. They asked for ideas for a new video.” Felix sat back and redirected his eyes back to the conversation on his phone. The other two slowly turned their heads to each other.
“Wow! Did you hear that, Innie? They messaged him!” Hyunjin yelped.
“Lix didn’t message first? Unheard of!” Jeongin gasped.
“Cut it out, overdramatic cunts.” The accent made the last word roll off Felix’s tongue in a heavy and aggressive accent. “I want to help them this once. Shoo. Leave me be.”
“Oh, why are you getting all worked up, man?” The younger placed his hands on Felix’s shoulders and wiggled them.
Actually — why was he getting all worked up? Everything seemed off: he wasn’t the type to get annoyed easily like that.
He would have defended himself, but he thought it over. Not only had he been unusually sentimental while getting ready, but even as the day started, he was already rolling off to a rough start. He barely got out of bed, reaching out to you from the side and asking for longer morning cuddles specifically from you. He had been so clingy all day that the silence and afternoon heat killed him from looking forward to anything else but you.
A discussion brewed between the menaces as Felix thought about it. “Innie, you know, he couldn’t even hit the poses right. The director felt bad because our bro didn’t seem into it.”
Felix’s cheeks flushed upon hearing that. “No way, Hyune,” the other replied.
Oh god, Felix thought.
He swatted embarrassing thoughts away from his head to not get teased any further by his own friends. His thoughts — and something else — were hindering him from doing anything physically. The poor boy couldn’t even shift in his seat from embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t want to physically fidget, he just couldn’t. His entire body froze, but he also just could not move by any means. It would be uncomfortable for him, and it wasn’t just because the clothes restricted him.
Something underneath his clothes would shift too and pierce his body with shockwaves. Before that could, though, his phone vibrated before he did.
you: babe! you: had a breakthrough so big i said eureka out loud in the store [you sent a photo]
Felix immediately opened the notifications and observed the sent messages. He opened the photo even before it loaded. When it did, he nearly melted in his seat.
You supposedly sent him a picture of a product that you found. By the looks of it, you probably thought of doing a product review of it, but that wasn’t the first impression he got from the picture. The first thing he saw was your face, winking with a toothy grin, your beautiful hand holding the product up next to your cheek.
God, you were all sorts of stunning to him.
lixie: OMHJYGOD YOUre so pretty you: dont look at me, silly! you: look at this lipstick. its so funny
For a moment, he didn’t listen. His eyes were still fixated on everything from your expression, to your features, to the nails that you just got done holding up the product. As if he had gone stupid, he had to blink and shake his head before formulating a reply that made sense.
lixie: LMFAOOOO THE NAME you: its not the name baby lixie: WHAT SHADE COLOR IS THAT LMAOOO  you: the shade looks fine, look at the label! lixie: What’s it say you: the label claims its make-out proof lixie: ??!!! LOL
Of course, he didn’t make any sort of sense whatsoever. His two friends watched him frantically type away, barely being able to process anything from the mere sight of you.
“Bro’s deluded,” Jeongin whispered.
“Bro’s fucking horny,” Hyunjin commented, squinting at his friend.
you: you sound so funny baby you: anyway i was thinking i should review it you: but can you join me? i wanna try something
It felt like something broke inside of him. A shot of excitement ran through his system, hitting down until his core — oh shit that hurt.
He tried to twist his lower half again, fidgeting in his seat, but it grew harder for him to do so. With tears in his eyes, he jolted up, attempting to focus on the conversation.
lixie: Sure, what do you want me to do? lixie: Won’t you just do an application and wear test thing? you: mmm i guess u can say that you: but im making it a lil different lixie: How so?
The intrigue bit his tongue and Felix attempted to swallow it. The staff around him were wrapping up the shoot, pushing equipment back in their places, and some started to leave as soon as the director announced the last “cut.” He, however, was glued to the vanity chair, shaking in anticipation.
you: im gonna put it on you baby <3
Felix’s eyes widened.
It didn’t matter how many times you placed makeup on him, nor did it matter how many times he joined you in your antics. There were too many things going on in his head that toyed with his thought process and everything that came with it. He didn’t exactly know why, but a knot formed in his stomach. He grew nervous and just knew that you were up to something sinister.
lixie: But how are we gonna do the wear test? I already got my face done and half the day has passed, I’m even done w my part of the shoot you: you dont get it ??? lixie: I don’t get it!! you: ill put it on you when you get here. and were not just testing how long it wears regularly, were testing what the label says you: ill be there in 10mins love you baby
He sat back, looked up from his phone, and his gaze zeroed in on his reflection, attempting to focus on the thought. How would you conduct a different kind of wear test? In terms of makeup, a wear test would simply be to spend a full day with the product on and to see if it still holds its place at the end of it. It had already been well past afternoon by that time and it wasn’t like there were many other things to do that could budge the lipstick aside from dinner. He always trusted your genius, but he knew that there was more to this.
Felix blinked, once, twice, and then stared.
Were you…going to test if it was really make-out proof?
The world around him seemed to dim — it did, since the studio lights were turning off and the senior stylists urged Jeongin to wake the model up from his short-circuiting brain to change out of the clothes.
That is if Felix could still respond before the horniness consumed him.
lixie: Wait lixie: Don’t tell me lixie: DON’T TELL ME lixie: You’ll test it by putting it on me lixie: AND THEN MAKE OUT WITH ME?????? [Read 2:50 PM] lixie: Y/N!!! Answer me!!! [Delivered, unread 2:51 PM]
The cogs in his head accelerated before banging to a full stop, clinks and clanks ringing through his ears at his very slow realization.
“Congrats, smartypants, you figured it out.” Hyunjin scoffed from behind him.
“Dude—wait, hey! Have you been watching me the whole time?!”
“You should be more secretive,” Jeongin giggled. “Get those privacy screen protectors or something. Now we know what poor Y/N has to deal with every day.”
“And stop getting your thoughts tangled in horny next time you text,” Hyunjin elbowed the poor model boy, fiddling with his camera as if nothing happened. “Don’t worry. Your secrets and online PDA are safe with us.” 
Felix’s face was washed without color. His jaw hung open both at his friends’ antics and your devilish plans.
“I’m looking forward to that review,” Jeongin added before walking away, teasingly pushing Felix’s shoulder on the way out. “Not that I’ll use it or anything.”
The two friends left the set side-eyeing and giggling at Felix.
It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the studio to pick your boyfriend up.
“Hi, darling.” Felix’s greeting and nervous smile lit up the quiet air and darkness of your car. He got in the passenger seat and immediately leaned in to kiss your cheek.
He was trembling. 
You had to laugh. “Hey, babe. What’s got you shaken up?”
“Long day.”
“That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Long because of you,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Kept teasing me.”
“Aw, don’t sulk, silly.” You cooed at him, “Save the pout for later, baby. We’re going home.”
Maybe it was the combination of inhaling your expensive signature scent and hearing the sound of your voice again that made him tingle all over. Maybe it had to do with the curling corners of your mouth that gave Felix all the information he needed in the world. Maybe it was the fact that you held the back of his seat as the car reversed, and the action looked undeniably sexy. 
Felix lifted a leg to cross over the other, but it only ever made him look more uncomfortable throughout the entire car ride home. Though concerned, you didn’t point it out, and instead continued to drive.
His chest was heaving and he internally scolded himself for acting like a bitch in heat.
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The both of you arrived home sooner than expected.
The tunes that you played earlier in the car ride home stuck in Felix’s head. He wondered if the song choice of a sultry voice singing about “wants and needs” was deliberate. It was your playlist, and if you intended to include subliminal messaging, then it worked like a charm on him.
He had been worked out to the point he couldn’t face you. The moment he laid eyes on you again in your apartment’s living room, he shied away almost immediately.
You caught his averting gaze, though, and disallowed him from living it down. “Is there something on my face, baby?”
Baby. He could spend a lifetime just listening to you calling him that name. The way it sounded so natural coming from you made him melt. 
He also could not stop staring at your lips. You always wore a certain gloss no matter the occasion. Even if it was your signature, Felix couldn’t help but stare, and it didn’t make his situation any better. In fact, it got worse, and it felt like the straining in his pants could explode.
“Mm, ‘s nothing, Y/N.”
“You sure?” You prodded. “Your friends kept waving at me and they looked back at you earlier.”
“Ah, please don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “They were being cheeky cunts.”
“That’s a funny way to put it.”
“Anyway, how are we gonna do th-the…uh, the thing…?” Felix stammered, playing with his fingers instead of looking you in the eye.
“Oh, glad you mentioned it!” You hurriedly grabbed the three tiny boxes in your bag. “I got a bit excited over it. Look at this!”
There was nothing too remarkable about the boxes. They looked like basic products, but the huge bolded font on the product labels caught his eye. “It’s more of a stain or something. The label says it can survive five consecutive make-out sessions before a singular budge.”
“It’s…interesting, yeah.” Felix blinked. You chuckled, nodding at his reasonable reaction. “So…y-you’ll put that on me.”
“Yep.”
“And then we kiss.”
“Make-out,” you corrected. Your voice was clear and slightly stern, but the smile that formed on your face sent him in shivers.
The familiarity in your features contrasted with whatever stunts you were going to pull on him sent his head into a haze.
“Anything wrong with it?”
“No,” he shook his head.
“Lix, baby, just be clear with me.” You inched closer to him, bringing your hands to his plump freckle-spotted cheeks. “You don’t mind that I’ll record this and post it?”
“Of course, I don’t mind. I just…” Felix sighed.
“…Just curious, what are you planning to show in the video?”
“I’m gonna show the application, I’ll start by putting it on you.”
The heat rushed to Felix’s face as numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he visualized everything in his mind.
“We’re gonna kiss for a brief moment in the video, probably make out and do…whatever,” you winked shyly. “It’s only gonna be brief. Gotta keep it within community guidelines.”
One of your hands made its way down to his hip. You pulled him closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat from gulping back an otherwise embarrassing sound.
You had to wonder if he was hiding anything causing him discomfort there.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
Felix bit his lip. “A hundred percent sure.”
“If you don’t want—”
“I want…it,” he whispered under his breath. “I want you.”
He flashed a weak smile. He was incredibly excited, but he was losing composure and he didn’t exactly know why.
He was about to melt in your hands but you held him up and adjusted your set-up for the video with an equally beautiful smile.
Three, two, one, action.
The camera rolled and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through you. Impressively, you thought you would have lost your spark at content creation, but posing in front of the ring light felt refreshing.
“It’s been a long time coming y’all,” you waved, “but I’m back! And guess who I’m with!”
Felix stared at the camera for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you for a split second. It was his cue to wave as well.
“Ah, hi, everyone!”
“Still handsome and meek as always,” you teased. “He still has a bit of makeup on since he came from a shoot.”
Your hand ran down the side of his neck. You felt the goosebumps rise from his skin.
“Anyway, today I’ll be starting a series of videos covering weird products and their weird claims. We’re starting strong with this funky new liquid lipstick from…B.Me Cosmetics.”
Taking the tube out of its package, you examined it and showed it to the phone camera. You swatched a shade on the back of your hand. Differing from a bullet lip, it had a liquid formula that boasted a unique, pseudo-gloss satin finish. 
“It claims to be smudge-proof, make-out-proof, everything-proof. Can last five rounds of kissin’ and smoochin’ I assume.” You said many things that Felix didn’t even dare to process.
Felix simply watched your hands delicately hold the product. His gaze was fixated on your nails, fingers, and everything about you that wasn’t the lipstick.
“But oh no no, I’m not testing it on myself. Well, kinda, but Lixie over here is gonna be my test subject.” You swung an arm over Felix, dragging him down to the height of the phone, showing everyone his nervous yet precious face. He eyed up at you with what seemed to be hearts in his pupils.
“Let’s first see how this goes on, hmm?”
You walked a bit away to grab two chairs: one was velvety and comfortable, while the other was taller and had regular cushions. The first was the same chair your clients usually sat on, and the second was your working chair. You urged him to sit down, patting the seat as a signal.
The moment he sat down, Felix started trembling. His knees looked like they were about to give in and his thighs took a moment to settle onto the velvet.
“Everything alright?” You whispered.
He wordlessly nodded back at you. Unknown to you, though, he bit back a noise. He didn’t mind the sharp pulsing pain when he finally got the courage to look up fully, of course with the guidance of your thumb and index finger propping up his chin.
It felt like handling a little kitten in your hands.
“Which shade, which shade…” You took the other bottles out of the bold box packaging and waved them out in front of Felix’s lips. It either would have been a rosy nude color, a deep red, or a bright cherry pinkish-red.
You tapped the tube of the last color against your boyfriend’s bottom lip, watching his cheeks pout slightly at the action. You quietly settled on the cherry color, to Felix’s apparent delight.
“Would you look at that?” You cupped his face with one hand, holding the lipstick on your free one. You faced him towards the camera, relishing in the sight of his cheeks puffing up in your palm. “Call me biased or whatever, but his lips are some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.”
Before he could indulge in the praise though, you urged him to open his mouth. He didn’t prepare for any of this and not your next course of action.
You slotted the bottle in between Felix’s teeth and kept it in place even after unscrewing the applicator off. He bit slightly and carefully to keep the bottle in place without damaging it. If he were a nervous wreck then, he became overly anxious now. You, however, in full focus, took the applicator of the liquid lipstick and slid it along his top lip. The cold sensation of the new foreign product on his mouth made him squirm slightly, though you held him firmly in place with your hand.
“So fitting that his lips are shaped like a heart. He’s so kissable.” You smooched the air while cleaning up the perimeter of his lips, teasing him.
Wished I kissed you right now, huh? Felix could hear that in your voice and he let it echo in his pretty little head. Alas, he couldn’t retaliate nor speak back at all. He couldn’t even dip his head in embarrassment. Your eyes were trained on the brush you flicked, almost dismissive of your own flirting and it mismatched the smirk that adorned your mouth after teasing.
It was the exact kind of look he’s seen many times before. The exact look he fell in love with when you first met.
It’s the look he would get off to almost every night.
You finished off applying the lipstick and it was impressively smooth. You took the bottle from his teeth and sighed. The color made his mouth look irresistibly edible. It would take you three marathons and a trip to the moon to admit that you were starting to feel just as affected as Felix by the sight of his pouty mouth.
“Rub those pretty lips for me, baby.”
Only you could say those words to him the way that you do. Felix felt multiple urges rummaging through his system at once. He could almost cry from wanting to say something, to call out your name, to moan it, to whine and whimper, and melt in your arms as if nobody were watching. 
The eyes of the world were on him, though, and all he could do was comply. He rubbed his lips together and pouted them out with a smack.
“Good job, baby.” You rubbed his chin with your thumb. He felt fire surging within his heart.
He knew that you knew what you were doing. It was only you, after all, who knew how to push his buttons in the right places. Unlike Hyunjin nor Jeongin, it took you no effort and no risks to leave him a mentally jumbled mess; not agitated, but certainly needy.
You were still sticking to a mental script, though. “How does it feel? Chalky? Rough? Sticky…?”
“I-It’s smooth. Feels thin.” He felt his tongue almost twist in his mouth from trying to speak when he was physically weakening over you.
“Seems like a good formula,” you giggled.
He watched as you turned your back on him, explaining bits of beauty jargon that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His vision seemed to blur as a need to satisfy the growing discomfort in his pants overwhelmed him. It all snapped away for a second when you switched the angle of your phone and pulled him up by his arms, leading him in front of the couch.
All of a sudden, you rubbed a circle around the base of his wrist. You looked up at him with eyes that demanded something from him. It was dark yet inviting as if he had just eyed down a wolf threatening to eat him whole.
The gesture was your signal that you wanted to fuck him then and there.
Felix finally didn’t have to keep to himself.
“Time to test how good it wears,” you smirked at him.
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Felix’s eyes were focused on yours. He didn’t move an inch as your fingers crawled from his jaw to his cheek. You glanced at your phone, propped up on the countertop, to check if it was recording. When you looked back, your eyes met Felix’s red lips.
You were so glad that you picked that shade. The makeup line released a ton of colors and your mind folded into itself when you realized how many there were. It was almost overwhelming to choose a shade for your boyfriend: you wanted to see him with a pinky nude on his lips, but you also thought the dark berry shade looked pretty.
As a trained makeup artist, you had a knack for figuring out which hues elevated which skin tones. Of all people, you knew Felix’s skin would match the slightly muted, pinkish cherry satin stain.
You should know this. You’ve seen his skin flush many times before, that would be more than enough to be familiar with the hues of his delicious skin.
You were the reason why he would constantly blush, after all. His skin would burn under your slightest touch, but it would flare up until his freckles darkened each time you held him down on your hips and called him pretty. His cheeks would turn as red as the tip of his cock every time you squeezed it lightly. 
Before you could think of any more, you tapped your boyfriend’s cheek. His face burned into a shade not far from the color of his lipstick.
“Are you sure you want to record this with me?” You asked, eyes scanning his face for second thoughts.
Felix almost forgot that you needed a clip of the both of you briefly kissing. He nodded after a second, confusion snapping into realization as you smiled at him. He seemed to be lost in thought, too: maybe he was nervous, maybe he was thinking of the same things you thought about. Either way, he simply answered with a smirk and the faintest giggle.
“Yeah. I’m game.”
You were on a mission to prove that this lip product could not budge after an intense make-out session. Now, you — and maybe Felix — wanted to see if it could survive intense sex, too.
All it took were two inches forward: you grabbed his hands dangling in front of you and closed in. Your noses touched each other, the skin bumping softly before your lips slotted against his in the smoothest kiss possible. To his surprise, you started gently. He expected you to crash against his mouth. He expected you to rummage through the product sitting on his mouth right away, to test its strength as a long-lasting piece of makeup, but you didn’t.
Maybe he wanted you to be rough. He wanted it.
You could tell by the whimper he choked up behind the kiss. That, and his hands roamed around your arms and sides, pulling you closer.
“Getting a little excited now, are we?” You purred, pulling your face away from his. He hesitated to break the kiss, inching his lips closer to yours even as you talked.
“Sorry, s-sorry. Got a little carried away.”
You wondered what got him to be so clingy and affectionate. You’re well aware of him being loving and tender, but it’s another thing to have him smitten while you’re doing nothing special.
Little did you know that to him, everything involving you is special. Even the texts you sent earlier and the ones you sent before. He couldn’t stop thinking about them; who wouldn’t, especially when you were being such a tease?
He finally pulled his head back. “Smooth,” he whispered.
You thought to tease him. “The lipstick?” 
“No,” Felix chuckled, “I meant you.”
Your hands traveled from up to his toned arms until one of them met the nape of his neck — his sensitive spot. You often called him a little kitten for enjoying being petted on that spot a little too much.
“So, did it rub off yet?” Your boyfriend managed to squeak, still affected by your antics.
His face was impossibly close to yours and you could feel the heat in his cheeks growing the more that he smiled at you. You stepped back to observe his face: apart from the blush on his cheeks, the lipstick was seemingly left unscathed. By the look on his face, he observed your lips, and there were no signs of product transferring. 
He also just wanted to kiss it again.
You raised an eyebrow at the camera and shrugged. “I guess it survived round one.”
“That was round one?” Felix mirrored the look you gave your phone. “I thought we call that first base.”
Your head whipped back to him. He simply smirked back, feigning an angel’s smile.
You’ve dated him for a long while, and while he had always been silly, he had never been this way in front of the camera. You wondered if the shoot he did — or the staff he was with — earlier had anything to do with a sudden ego boost.
“Now you’re bold, baby.”
The nickname caused Felix’s smirking eyes into wide ones, the excitement writing itself everywhere on his face.
“Just wanna do more with you,” he teased back. “Do more rounds, test how much removes.”
He puckered his lips and pouted. It was a juicy invitation that you couldn’t turn down. Instead, you took it with a kiss — a deep kiss, one that made you inhale and caught him off guard.
It was still gentle and velvety. It felt like you both tasted clouds and nothing was in between. The hand on the nape of his neck ran up to his hair and back down almost instinctively, making Felix shake. Unable to focus on both the sensation of a passionate kiss, an overwhelming urge to breathe and process the suddenness, and the general feeling of being petted, his hands swung to your chest and squeezed.
“Ah! Felix!” You whispered loudly against his mouth, almost moaning at the sensation.
“Sorry! Force of habit,” he said.
“Gotta keep it PG, baby, I’m posting this.” He nodded assuringly at your words but his hands were crucially still on your chest, threatening to squeeze again.
After realizing this, he immediately attempted to pull his hands back, an apology dripping on the tip of his tongue. Instead, you surprisingly threw your hands on his wrists, caging his hands in place.
If that didn’t surprise him enough, you leaned in close to his face and kissed him once more. It was fiery this time; he felt your tongue darting at him while your teeth nipped slightly at his bottom lip before you pulled away. He gasped louder than he should have.
You giggled at his shock and nuzzled your face on his neck. “Sorry. Reflex.”
“But mommy—” Felix froze, realizing what he had just said. He didn’t mean to say that.
All the cockiness he displayed earlier fizzled out into thin air. You could feel the heartbeat in his neck thumping against your lips. From his eyes fluttered shut to wide open ones, you could see the embarrassment wash over him.
Sure, you two were doing something intimate, kissing and groping in front of the camera. He knew and trusted you enough to edit it out, but the idea that footage would have existed of him calling you that nickname…scared him. The camera watched him, the microphone picked up his low voice, and on the off-chance that this moment makes the cut, thousands of people would have seen it. 
He’d gotten used to the idea that millions of people could pass by his face and body, but it’s different when he’s exposing a bit of himself that he only reserved for you — his “mommy.”
“Y/N… Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—”
“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You gave a reassuring look and a warm smile, shifting your position to hide his face away from the phone camera.
The pet name was his suggestion. The idea that you could hold this title as his dominant partner was something he never thought of telling you at first, but the moment he mentioned it, you indulged immediately. It was something so dear, so sweet, and soft, definitely making you less of an ominous presence to him in bed and more like a warm home he can return to. You loved it even if he didn’t expect you to.
Even while he’s embarrassed and fully vulnerable, he felt so safe, entrusted to the only one in his life that could take the title without judgment. 
“Call me that as much as you want. I won’t show it,” you whispered. Felix nodded but you didn’t miss the tears threatening to form in his eyes.
“Mommy…” He inevitably gave up and dipped his head in the crook of your neck. You petted the back of his head again and kissed the side of his head, calming him with hushes and soft hums.
Before he could melt at your warm embrace, you took a few steps back. Felix whined and hoped to hug you for longer, only to watch you press the button on your phone to stop the recording. You shut the phone off, looked back at him, and smiled with your eyes.
He always valued your respect for his boundaries and the fact that you always made his comfort your top priority.
“We’re not done,” you inched closer, “the lipstick’s still on there.”
Because if you two were going to fuck comfortably, you two were still going to fuck.
Taking his arms and pulling them towards you, you prompted him to wrap himself around you as your lips crashed against his. You held him by his waist — it was remarkably small, toned, and muscled but definitely made for your hands to take it.
With force, you hugged his waist and carried him slightly, pushing you both on the couch. You sat on it while he was essentially hovering over your figure, his hips just above your lap.
“Mommy—g-god,” Felix gasped, muffled by another nudge of your mouth.
As if your brain switched off, your hands started going on their own. One was trained on his hip and the other snaked up his side and cupped his face, making him tremble at the sudden yet soft movements.
You were focused on the kiss but you just knew he looked gorgeous.
Of all the clients you put makeup on, your boyfriend always turned out the prettiest. Maybe it’s because his eyes seemed to shine with certain shadows on them. Maybe it’s the way his freckles peek through the base products. In this case, maybe it was the plumpness of his lips that you loved, covered in a flattering shade of red. Maybe that’s what was doing it for you.
“You’re so cute, baby,” you said, pausing the kiss.
Felix pouted. The pigment on his lips accentuated the curves of his mouth. “Not as cute as mommy.”
“Hm, thank you. But you’re my cute baby.”
Sometimes, you wonder how you got this to be so vulnerable, so whipped for you. It didn’t take him that long to warm up to you with this side of him, a side he so dearly hid from the rest of the world. It’s like this doll was made for you.
“Mommy,” Felix dragged out a whimper as he called you by the title. “Making me needy.”
“Don’t get impatient baby boy,” you whispered, a kiss on his temple following your sweet words.
While rolling your hips onto his, you thought about it what you said. You thought back to the last night he fell into this extremely submissive role. He’d always been the one under you and you’ve always been the one in control, but during that one night — similar to this one — he shyly asked you to call him a certain pet name. You loved it, probably more than he did, and you figured he might want to hear you say it again.
“Or are you my baby girl for tonight?”
“Mommy!” Felix scolded. If his cheeks were already flushed, his entire face heated up with a warmth that you simply indulged in. His ears and the corners of his eyes lit up with a blush tone that complimented and accentuated the cherry color that lined his shy smile.
He enjoyed the pet name too much, and he seemed to be threatened with memories of the same night the moment you said it.
“What? Don’t want to be my baby girl? It’s okay if you—”
“I’m mommy’s girl! Yeah, I’m their baby girl!”
Almost all traces of bass in Felix’s voice left the moment he squealed his response to you. 
His eyebrows were slanting upwards like a needy puppy, his eyes sparkled as beads of tears sat on his eyelashes, and he wiggled his hips onto yours with a neediness you’ve seen many times before. He briefly whimpered again in a high pitch. 
Being called that for the first time was as special to him as it was to you. It still landed him punches to the gut every time you said it. You would wonder why he loved it even if he was incredibly comfortable in his masculinity.
Maybe it made sense like that, considering he was wearing makeup while sitting on your lap.
You kissed him again and praised him until he gave into the burning sensations he felt from your overwhelmingly smooth graces around his body. With fast swipes, you pulled his plain shirt over his head, only to clothe him again with nothing but the warm embrace of your arms.
He moaned, writhed, and whined, adjusting his position on your lap until his legs were slotted against one of your thighs. Once he found his balance, he rutted against your leg, letting out a sound that he couldn’t resist.
“Didn’t even undress you yet, I still have pants on, and you’re already riding me?” You smiled widely at him. Felix huffed, unable to think, inhaling so that he wouldn’t drool on your shirt.
Or your chest, now that you abandoned your top in a flash, leaving it even harder for him to contain himself.
You took his lips into yours again, this time licking and biting his sweet mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. It was messy and sloppy, just the way he needed it. You wondered if he had been craving this for so long and just couldn’t tell you.
Nevertheless, the next step was to take the bottoms off of your lower half and his own, but he paused your hands from reaching onto his crotch.
“W-Want mommy’s off first,” he sighed. It sounded more like a question now that his voice was so high and his tone was so soft. He was far from the boy whose mouth went foul over his own best friends at work.
His head was far gone, you figured.
Felix helped you pull your pants down, careful not to disrupt the current position that you were both in, only slightly lifting yourself off the couch. He sighed once he saw you, bare and beautiful, rid of anything that kept him from being horny the entire day.
He wanted you so bad.
“Baby girl, tell me,” it was your turn to pause his hands from reaching you.
“Is something bothering you?”
“No…not really a-a bother…” He pursed his lips.
He figured to rip the bandaid off and just show you the source of his discomfort—or, as it seems, the source of his pleasure.
“Baby girl, you…”
He revealed a pastel pink lacy fabric covering his private area. He was wearing panties.
“I…I got them from a PR package…from th-that one underwear company…” Felix justified, stuttering from both extreme embarrassment and arousal.
“It was supposed to be yours b-but I…liked it so much…a-and I wanted to…”
You couldn’t help but notice the drool threatening to fall from his tongue, glossing his lips. Distracted, you didn’t kiss him. You licked his mouth and bit his bottom lip again. The blood under his skin rushed to color his lips, emphasizing the pink-colored stain.
As you bit his lip, your fingers found the band of his panties, toying with the pink lace before slipping under it. The flesh — rather, his cock — was hard and pulsing. Felix moaned. His chest heaved from being unable to process everything at once.
“Baby girl’s clit is so hard for me already.” You pecked his cheek and let him whine. “You’ve been needy since earlier?”
“Y-Yeah, but, ‘m…not finished.” He mumbled under his breath. “Got more…to show you.”
He pulled his panties fully down, allowing his cock to bounce up. You couldn’t help but notice something at the base, but your suspicions were confirmed when he led one of your hands to touch his ass.
“You wore a butt plug the whole day?”
Felix’s face flushed into a shade similar, if not deeper than the cherry red he wore on his lips. At your words, he felt like crumpling into himself. 
“It’s just for you. Thought y-you’d like it.”
All you could do in response was kiss him deeply and thrust your thigh up, hitting the plug deeper into his ass.
He moaned deliciously into the kiss and almost cried at the contact. It fucked with him — literally — the entire day and you made it all the better. Only that he had so little time to adjust before you gave him a dark look again.
“Mommy, what are you—”
He was shut up by you licking his mouth and your fingers filling up his hole.
“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, baby girl.” Your words left your system through gritted teeth, filtering your animalistic desire to ruin him even more than ever. “This pussy is mine and only mine.”
You bit his lip once more, sucking on the plump flesh before abandoning it. “Bet your toys can’t satisfy you as I do.”
“They d-don’t, mommy!” Felix was on the verge of tears, choking back sobs as your teeth found his jaw, peppering it with love bites lining his natural contour.
You started pumping your fingers up and down his ass, hitting his prostate with your fingertips over and over. “Can only take me inside your cunt.”
“Ah, god—fuck, mommy!” The delirious sounds escaping him as he scrambled to hold onto your body kept you going.
As if he noticed, he started grinding into the air next to your entrance. You took this as his usual sign that he wanted to please you too. Felix valued mutual pleasure and craved it as much as he craved the sloppy crashing of mouths on a couch.
“Take me like a good girl.” Your voice softened as you cooed. “Can you do it? Ride mommy’s fingers while fucking into me?”
He could only nod frantically, allowing the drool in his mouth to drop onto his cock. 
The lipstick probably looked so messy by now.
You held his cock, lengthy and hard, and squeezed it in your free hand. “This is mommy’s to play with.” 
Shoving it into your entrance, you curled your fingers deep onto Felix’s prostate, eliciting loud moans from either of you. Felix could scream from the sudden warmth enveloping his cock.
“Rub your clit against me,” you demanded, urging him to thrust his cock immediately. He complied only to start whining and crying out from the stimulation.
You leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck. With a subtle nod of your head, you invited him to bite your neck before his next thrust. Lightning bolts entered you when his teeth sunk into your skin for some semblance of comfort.
In turn, you kissed and sucked a spot on Felix’s shoulder. The biting sensation made him squirm away from you, but his noises only amplified when you latched onto a more sensitive spot above his freckled collarbone. It didn’t help that your fingers were practically exiting and entering his hole completely, filling and emptying him at a speed he almost couldn’t take.
The stimulation from all ends of his body caught up to him, release rumbling from his core up to his cock. He begged and pleaded and called your name multiple times as you did too. Felix readied for release but shocked himself when it came suddenly, almost without warning.
He started gushing just outside your entrance, the relief surging through his hips in waves: it had never happened to him before, but the slight amusement on his fucked-out face sent you over the edge too.
You came at the same time, your wetness coating the sides of your thighs and the cushions of the couch, the pool of both your juices mixing right under you.
It had to take you both several minutes to an hour of downtime before you both got up to clean. During that time, Felix held you close, trapping you in a warm cuddle.
“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered, his deep voice returning, calming you from your high.
You pressed one more kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Felix.”
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Aftercare had to be a non-negotiable after the scene you guys painted all over the living room.
You made sure to offer Felix the softest bubble bath, massaging and soothing every inch of his skin, scrubbing away at the residue of the new lipstick.
You both found out, just before the bath, that it barely survived at all. It still stained his lips a shade of red, and the stains of love bites that he left on you stuck for a long while, but the actual product budged possibly within the third round of kisses. It barely held on when you started biting him.
The bedroom was full of giggles and the shuffling of your bodies cuddling close to calm yourselves down. Felix shared how he couldn’t believe his horniness that day, and you teased that he was being a hormonal girl.
He whined at that, kissed you good night, and fell asleep while huddled close to your chest. You calmly played with your phone, quickly editing the footage and clipping out the moment that he slipped into submission.
That was for your eyes only.
You posted the video and muted the notifications, kissed his forehead good night, and fell asleep.
“Baby, baby girl…” Your voice, although hoarse and deep from the blissful sleep, woke your boyfriend up. The clock on your bedside table flashed 9:00 AM in bright red, but the light from your phone shone brighter. “Look at this!”
“Holy…Y/N, oh my god!” Every trace of sleepiness left Felix as he jumped out of bed. “The video blew up?!”
You sat up next to him, chuckling in disbelief. “Let’s see what people are saying.”
“Why does the suggested search bar have…”
Men marked up. Men with hickeys. Men whining. It was clear that the video affected your audience in more ways than one.
“Silly,” you giggled, sinking into your boyfriend’s embrace. “Wonder how this thing got through community guidelines.”
Felix pointed at a comment. “Help. Someone’s asking about washing the stains off.”
The both of you cuddled closer. As the sunlight shone through your curtains and hit your figures, it highlighted Felix’s honey skin and the cherry stains that failed to wash off in the shower.
You turned your head to his and smirked. “Should we film an update video? What about a part 2?”
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taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @sstarryoong
+ @imrllytootiredforthis @imsolovelylovely @beefis @sorikkung @lix-ables figured to tag since yall showed interest!
special thanks to @meivida, my ride or die, the big brain that inspired me to write this in the first place! they also took time out of their day to proofread it ^_^
thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.
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intheorangebedroom · 5 months
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Tonight you belong to me
Series, ongoing
Summary: He comes to you every Friday, in a shady motel on the outskirts of town. 
Week after week, under the crushing weight of his body, you learn to find yourself. Week after week, under the reverence of your touch, he allows himself to heal. Why can’t this last forever, when you’re so good to each other?
Set a few months after the TF events. 
Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC fem!Reader Written in reader format but Reader is an OFC. There are sparse but still present physical descriptions, she has a thorough background, and a name.
Rating: Explicit 🔞
TW: THERE WILL BE NO TRIGGER WARNINGS ON INDIVIDUAL CHAPTERS. So please tread carefully because there will be (blood) (kidding, just mine) mentions of: PTSD, death, infidelity, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, stomach bug & hospitalization, light bondage, rough sex, size kink taken to the next level, lots of bodily fluids (come spit and sweat, sweat come and spit, the usual suspects), questionable (very bad) decisions, unprotected sex like woa, intense darker Frankie, where’s my feminism at, this man, this man, this man. You know the drill.
A/N: alright orange besties, here we go again, I once more locked up Frankie in a bedroom with a girl... More or less an alternate exploration of my favourite tropes: love at first sight, soulmates, forever love, pleasure and pain, hard sex/sweet love, flourishing through a lover's care and attention, Frankie being a B I G boy... Are you in? 🥺 Also, I’ve never set a foot in Florida, bear with me, I'm trying my best. This is going to be a little rougher kind of Frankie, but still our Pilot™️. I hope you enjoy the flight 🧡 
A very special and heartfelt orange THANK YOU to my love @deadmantis for the moodboards & inspos that went straight into the header for this series 🧡 Deadmantis, I love you in every colour.
Chapters
Prologue - In The Beginning
Chapter 1 - Dirt
Chapter 2 - Closer
Chapter 3 - The Man At The Frontier
Chapter 4 - Frankie (coming... before May. I hope. Tell my employer to leave me alone)
Chapter 5 - ...
Chapter 6 - ...
Epilogue - ...
Playlist
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wosowrites · 1 year
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Mama Putellas (Alexia Putellas x Reader )
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Warnings: ⚠️dislocated knee⚠️
A/N: From a request
Prompt: Reader gets injured during an important game, but the head coach doesn’t let Alexia leave the field. So Alexia’s mother whos in the stands goes with the reader. I had to rewrite all this because it didn’t damn save. Sorry if there are any typos. I was too tired to correct it.
You had gone viral a few times. Once, for scoring a bicycle kick from halfway through the opposing teams half, and another time for a pretty emotional speech you gave about feminism and mental health. What you never though you would go viral for, was for hammering your knee back into place with your bare fist in the middle of a game.
You were so excited for your 50 cap, starting once again the game for Barca. You were getting the honour of captaining the squad today, in recognition of you joining the 50 club. Your girlfriend, Alexia, couldn’t have been prouder.
You let out the team proudly and then did your captain duties. Coin toss, shaking hands.
The game started off strong, you, Mapi, and Lucy dominating the defensive line. Keira and Alexia was absolutely owning the midfield, and eventually, in the 17th minute, Keira scored a beautiful header from a cross by your girlfriend. You congratulated the young midfielder, and then high fived and hugged your girlfriend.
After the kick off, the ball somehow stayed in Real Madrids half for the next ten minutes. That is until their striker got a breakaway. You ran after her, trying to reach her. And you did. You bodied her off the ball and kicked it away, but due to her momentum, she ran into you anyways, sending you flying to the ground. Your body rolled over your head in a somersault fashion. But when you landed on your knee, you knew something was wrong. You looked at your knee from your sitting position to see your knee socket was completely popped out and sticking out the side.
You had always liked order, you were tidy and liked things to be where they belong. So seeing your knee like this… your only instinct was to fix it.
"Y/n, what’s goin-" Mapi started saying to you. "Holy shit." She breathed when she saw your knee. But you were already busy using your palm and hammering it into place. "Oh my god! Y/n! Stop!" Lucy yelled, seeing what you were doing. You ignored her and balled your hand into a fist before hitting it again.
Your scream filled Camp Nou, sending shivers to the spine of 99,700 people.
Your knee was back into place though, and so you let your body fall backwards, keeping a hold on your knee. "Baby," Alexia breathed, kneeling beside you and brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "Lexi- holy shit Lex." You panted, looking into her eyes. "That was crazy." Alexia said, trying to distract you. "Yeah crazy fucking stupid." You said.
The medics were there next, kneeling beside you. They told Alexia to go see Jonatan. The spaniard looked over to see the whole team drinking water, and Lucy vigorously re-enacting how you had hammered your knee back into place.
Alexia obeyed, and walked over to Jonatan. "I need to go with her." Alexia told him. "No way. I’m sorry but we’re 30 minutes in and this team needs you." Jonatan told Alexia. "Y/n is part of this team. And she needs me." Alexia argued.
The head coach gave the spaniard a look, telling her not to argue. So she did the next best thing.
Alexia ran the length of the field, ending up behind the opposing teams net. She knew her mother was sitting front row, having been so happy to see you get your 100 cap. You and Elisabet were close, even though she spoke little english, and you, little spanish, you made it work.
Alexia was quick to explain to her mother the situation, and sooner than she knew it, Alexia had waved away a security guard that had told her Eli wasn’t aloud on the field, and then they were jogging towards the bench hand in hand. "Wait here, mama." Alexia said in spanish, leaving her with Lucy who had decided to show Elisabet exactly how you had hammered your knee into place. Your national team teammate was proud of you, needless to say.
Camp Nou erupted in cheers as you got lifted up on a stretcher. Your shirt was over your face and you were crying lightly. The pain was horrific. When Alexia reached you, she held your hand in hers. "I can’t go with you baby. Jonatan won’t let me. But my mothers there, and she will go with you." Alexia told you, gently pulling your shirt down to cover your stomach again. "Okay." You said quietly, not being able to think of anything but the pain. "You’re so fierce mi amor, so fierce." She said to you.
Soon enough, Alexia’s hand was replaced with her mothers hand. The medical team carried you into the tunnel, and then outside where an ambulance was waiting. The paramedics loaded you into the back and helped Elisabet settle in.
The drive there was relatively silent other than the sirens. Elisabet didn’t say much, her english being broken, but she smiled at you in a way that you weren’t familiar with. In a motherly way.
When you got to the hospital, everything was a blur. You were hooked up on pain meds and brought to surgery right away. The surgeons were talking to you as you dozed off, telling you how you were the bravest, but craziest person ever for doing what you did. You dozed off giggling, with a smile on your face. You knew that no matter what, you’d have Alexia.
———
"Y/n?" A voice said gently.
Your eyes fluttered open to see Alexia sitting beside you, along with Mapi, Lucy, and Keira. They were all smiling at you but looked worried. "Is it bad?" You groaned, sitting up. "No! Well it’s not good. But it’s not bad bad. You’ll be back stronger than ever." Alexia said to you, the rest of the group nodding in agreement.
"People are going crazy for you, y/n." Keira said. She pulled out her phone and went on Tik Tok to the barclays women’s page. There, was a video of you hammering your knee into place with the audio "did somebody say, slay."
"Who chose the audio?" You giggled tiredly. "The admin I guess." Mapi laughed. "Yeah the part where I scream in pain and fall backwards is especially sexy." You joked. Alexia laughed, brushing your hair with her fingers. "We’ll give you guys a minute." Lucy said, ushering her own girlfriend out of the room. Mapi stood up and your forehead, always having been a sister to you.
"I was so fucking worried that whole game." Alexia told you as the girls walked out. "I know baby. I’m sorry- wait. The game. What was the score?" You asked, knowing loosing would have been really bad. "It’s okay. It was 3-1. Close call." Alexia reassured you.
You nodded and moved over to the side, leaving room for Alexis in the bed. She slipped off her shoes and snuggled up with you. Kissing your temple repeatedly. "Shh my love, i’m okay." You giggled as she kissed down your neck. "You’ll be okay when i’m done kissing you."
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wiisagi-maiingan · 8 months
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Pin post time!
I'm an aro and nonbinary Ojibwe person, my pronouns are they/them/vae/vaem, and I'm nameless right now but you can call me Wiisagi. I'm also disabled and I'll talk about that a lot!
I am pro-queer, pro-trans, pro-sex work, pro-prison abolition, pro-abortion, and very much anti-radical feminism in all its forms. That includes TERFs, T"I"RFs, SWERFs, people who are "kink-critical", and anyone in the "masculinity is bad and dangerous and evil" club. You aren't welcome here!
My inbox is closed and will probably remain so forever, sorry not sorry! I don't reblog callouts ever and I do my absolute damnedest to stay out of drama but if you're an ass to me, I'll call you out on it.
I know what people like to claim about me and they're welcome to do so. I know who I am and what I am and strangers online don't get to make me doubt that.
Don't call me Native American or use gendered terms for me (girl, dude, ma'am, etc) please.
And as my header says, DECOLONIZATION IS NOT A METAPHOR.
🪻🪷🌻🌺
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aresianrepose · 1 year
Text
Before the semester kicks off and murders me, @disniq​ asked for my essay on Jason Todd and hysteria. So, without further ado, here is an actual essay (fucking dissertation) because I refuse brevity. It is extremely long. I’ve split it into sections so you can find the section header and read what you want. This does not encompass all the narrative trauma themes and lived experiences that this boy holds, just specifically hysteria. 
Jason Todd, The Hysteric & Bruce Wayne, The Batman
I think it’s a common reading that Jason Todd is girl-coded and the patron saint of victims, at least within the circle that I’ve fallen into within this fandom. There are plenty of meta discussions on why those readings stand, so I’m not going to reiterate them. A pillar of him being girl-coded and someone trauma survivors have latched onto as one of our own has to do with being written in the context of hysterical femininity. And let me just say, I don’t think that writing was done in a way that he was intentionally coded as hysterical, but it is a function of our patriarchal society that this coding was used on him albeit without the explicit purpose of writing a hysteric story. 
For the purpose of this post: the word woman includes ciswomen, transwomen, and any person who is socially positioned as a woman regardless of gender identity. I include the positionality here because anyone can experience misogyny and sexism depending on the perception of the perpetrators either interpersonally or systemically. 
The History and Context of Hysteria
To understand the context, we have to look at the history and oppression of hysteria. Hysteria (in the modern context of psychology) emerged in the nineteenth century and is difficult to define by design and often applied to traumatized, unruly, and broken women. The main patriarchs who contributed to hysterical study were Jean-Martin Charcot and Sigmund Freud. I only mention this because it’s important to know their names moving forward for any of this to make sense. The beginning of this started with Charcot literally putting women whose lives had been marked by rape, abuse, exploitation, and poverty on display in his Tuesday lectures (which were open to the public) to show his findings on hysteria. This was actually seen as restoring dignity (fucking yikes) to the women because before Charcot these hysterical women were cast aside and not treated at all. In Charcot’s work, the women’s speech was seen as simply “vocalization” and their inner lives, their stories, their words, were silenced. After hearing a woman cry for her mother during one of the public sessions Charcot remarked, “Again, note these screams. You could say it’s a lot of noise over nothing” (Herman). 
This led to Freud, Charcot’s student, wanting to surpass his teacher by discovering the cause of hysteria. This was disastrous. Freud started with listening to the hysterics. In doing so, he learned and believed them about the abuse, rape, and exploitation of their pasts. He then published his work and gave a lecture on it. The work rivals even contemporary psychological work on trauma in it’s level of compassion, understanding, and treatment of survivors. However, he was then labeled a feminist (this was all happening during the first wave of feminism) and professionally ostracized. How in the world could these aristocratic French men be sexually abusing their wives, sisters, and daughters??? Insanity, truly. And... This always fucking gets me. He recanted his work and then told his patients they all imagined it because they wanted to be sexually abused by their husbands, brothers, and fathers. This set back the study of trauma by literally a century. One colleague called his work “a scientific fairy-tale” simply because he had the audacity to believe victims. Also, I want to point out that the famous hysteria case during this time was the case of Anna O and she was ultimately villainized by the entire psychological community for going into crisis after her care provider abruptly ended their therapeutic relationship after two years of DAILY sessions. 
Anyway. We can see how the power of these men over vulnerable women silenced, pathologized, villainized, infantilized, and used male ‘logic’ to completely destroy their credibility and lives under the guise of care and hysteria. Even when credible men lend their expertise and voices to the victims, their voices are silenced. This particular iteration of hysteria lasted over a century, and we are still dealing with the consequences of these actions and ideas within our social construction, medical and mental health care, interpersonal relationships, and more. Patriarchal pillars such as hysteria don’t die. We saw it move from hysteria to schizophrenia (which used to have the same symptoms of hysteria before the diagnosis changed in more contemporary psychology) after this which led to widespread lobotomies and electroshock therapy (my least favorite case of a lobotomy being done is on a woman who was diagnosed with LITERALLY ‘narcissist husband’) to depression in the 40s-50s with the over prescription of benzodiazepines to house wives to keep them in a zombie state (these prescriptions were sometimes double and triple what we take today with the intent of medical catatonia). In my opinion, as well as other counselors within the feminist therapy theoretical orientation, we are currently seeing it with the emergence of borderline-personality disorder. Think about how BPD is treated and demonized for a second. I professionally know therapists who refuse to work with BPD clients due to this villainization and just fucking gross perception of victims.
These are just the highlights, but it shows the history of hysteria. There have been centuries of women being marked as hysterical and the cures have ranged from lobotomy to bed rest (which sounds not so bad but read the Yellow Wallpaper and get back to me on that one). While the Yellow Wallpaper is fictional, the life behind it was not. After the traumatic birth of her child the author, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, was remanded to bed rest by the authority of her husband and doctor. Within the sphere of medical control, hysterical women are often treated as children while their doctors make decisions for their mental well-being without consulting them, or they hide the truth of their procedures for “the woman’s own good” and because “she’s hysterical and wouldn’t comprehend the logical need for this.” She then had a mental break due to the treatment. Again, we see hysterical women being silenced, infantilized, discredited from their own experiences, and under the narrative control of male logic and voices. 
Hysterical women have often historically been seen as beneath men, except for when they’re dangerous. Listening to victims is inherently threatening to the status quo because all trauma comes from a systemic framework. The framework that upholds patriarchal power. It’s easy to see why that would be seen as dangerous to powerful men. We saw this with the European witch genocide in which oppressed women were targeted and wiped out under the excuse of what was considered women’s work. (Before this time, witchcraft wasn’t tied to any religion and was mostly just seen as women’s work. It was targeted specifically to have an excuse to persecute widows, homeless, disabled, and vulnerable women who no longer had men to reign over them during a time of political unrest and scarce resources). This time period saw hysterical and traumatized women demonized as dangerous, evil, immoral, hypersexual, and supernaturally wily. A threat to the moral fabric of society. 
(Interesting history side note: this caused the view of women’s base traits we have today. It stemmed from the Victorian era that came after this time period in which women learned if they behaved a certain way, they would be spared the stake. For example, before the witch trials, women were actually seen as the ones with unsatiable sexual appetites, something we culturally prescribe to men now.) 
Notice how none of this has to do with the actual abuse that happens to the women, but instead the labeling and treatment of women when they are already showing the symptoms of abuse, trauma, control, exploitation, and rape. 
Jason Todd, The Hysteric
So, how does this relate to Jason Todd? To say that Jason has experienced trauma would be an understatement. Extreme poverty, loss of parent to death and addiction, loss of parent to the justice system, parental abuse, manipulation, witnessing violent crimes, witnessing the aftermath of sexual abuse and assault, arguably (not explicit in the text) his own sexual trauma, witnessing the dead bodies of victims, a violent death, and subsequently a violent resurrection. There’s also an argument to be made for being a child soldier and how that is romanticized up until he dies, but the text does not treat this as traumatizing.
Now, I’m not going to dive into the trauma he experienced. The purpose of this is only to look at how he’s framed as hysterical in the narrative, and as I stated, hysteria was a word slapped on women after they tried to talk about their trauma or exhibited symptoms (or were just unruly women). Jason does embody many facets of the victim experience and this is just one of them. 
Feelings vs “logic” - Firstly, it is really hard to talk calmly about things that you carry, your experiences, your trauma, and things that specifically harm you. It is easy to talk calmly about things that don’t. This is why there is an abuse tactic of gaslighting or silencing victims by framing their very real reactions to harm or their triggers as abuse, this is known as “reactive abuse.” This tactic is also employed in oppressive settings where the privileged group will often default to ‘winning’ a debate by being able to remain calm while the marginalized group whose life, personhood, etc is being harmed by the things being discussed and are unable to have a sterilized, emotionless debate. 
Both of these settings fit Jason nicely within the moral context of vigilante comics. He fought back, he didn’t lay down, and he will do what he deems as necessary to protect himself and others from his fate. This, however, is framed by Bruce and others as being just as bad as his murderer or even just as bad as Joe fucking Chill. To put this in perspective of a real world equivalent. Combine every billionaire on this planet into one person and instead of their shitty business practices murdering people, they did it with their own two hands. And due to their resources and political power, they would never, ever stop killing or be reasonably contained. More people would die with absolute 100% certainty. Would killing that one person make you equally bad as that person or violating the sanctity of life? That’s the moral question that Bruce puts onto Jason. While the moral question inherent to Jason is actually, is there a line worth crossing to provide reasonable safety (for yourself or the nameless community)? There is actually a difference between those two questions and the reactive abuse framing is certainly a choice. Also, it is funny to me that a man with the amount of power Bruce has (and frequently misuses) can lecture a murder victim on the misuse of power and morality. Are we supposed to be agree with his stoic, philosophical lecturing to a marginalized, abused, murder victim? (yes, we are). Bruce leverages (personal) philosophy against victim’s voice for their own safety, and take a wild guess which one is framed as logical and reasonable.
Jason’s morals come secondary to Bruce’s philosophy in a universe where there is still harm being done (but it’s an acceptable harm). Why is killing the line? Bruce is regularly destroying families and lives by feeding them into the prison industrial complex while supporting it with his whole chest. Or he’s disabling and seriously maiming people with the level of violence he uses. 
Crying - Throughout the entire story of Under the Red Hood, we never once see Bruce emote while interacting with Jason outside of tight grimaces. With the exception of the shock he shows at the Joker’s life being threatened, which... Okay, suuure. We never see him cry during any of their interactions, but we do see Jason cry. Specifically, we see him crying when he’s at his most emotionally vulnerable and physically dangerous to the toxic male power fantasy. This kind of vulnerability is rarely shown by male characters, and when it is, it’s usually done with a mist of a tear in their eyes or their face is hidden. There are a few narrative devices that allow men to cry, but they are the exception rather than the rule. Usually, it’s to play for laughs, infantilize, or emasculate. Here, we see Jason combine the violence of a bad victim, bucking the system of power, and fully crying. Just slide right into that hysterical coding like a glove. Jason often shows his feelings entirely. Time and time again, the readers have seen Jason have breakdowns, cry, and be overcome with grief. This is tied to his portrayal as hysterical and unstable in the narrative, but in actuality it shows his capacity for love and how vastly impactful his death was. 
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This fits nicely with the next point that Jason fits into the hysterical box. Love is framed as one of his key faults. A son reaching for his father. 
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Love - One of Jason’s defining features is the amount of love and compassion he holds. He’s willing to put up with any treatment, shoulder blame, and sacrifice himself for others to almost an unhealthy degree. However, this doesn’t extend to what he defines as his baseline safety. This one line of safety is the one thing that can’t be crossed, even with all of the love he feels for his father. He desperately wants to feel connection, have a family, and be loved in return with the same unwavering ferocity love that he gives. This is such a fucking key part of the victim experience, especially victims of childhood trauma. The desperation to just be chosen. He’s raw and honest with his reasonable expectation for love to provide safety for him and that is framed as hysterical, needy, unstable, naive, and fucking childish. Victims know what they need to have safety, and this framing as Bruce knowing what’s best for Jason and literally giving a cold shoulder to his needs is disgusting. 
Less than - Jason is portrayed as less powerful than Bruce even though they have similar expertise. There are so many instances of this that if you just open any media they both appear in, you can close your eyes, point, and land on an example. It makes me die laughing every time I remember that the Arkham games made Jason just one inch shorter than Bruce. Like, they can’t even be the same fucking height, that’s the level of insecure masculinity surrounding this relationship. Jason cannot and will never be able to be on par with Bruce because of his hysterical femininity and the power of Bruce being the self insert for the toxic male power fantasy. This power dynamic applies to the other batkids as well, but specifically in Jason’s case there is an element of hysteria. The reasons change because he’s so inconsistently written but usually he can’t surpass or even meet a stalemate with Bruce because he’s too emotional, he’s unstable, traumatized, and simply Bad. It’s even explicitly stated by Alfred in Under the Red Hood. 
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Victim blaming - Jason deserved to die because he didn’t follow orders. Jason deserved to die for not following his training. Jason deserved to die because he was an angry Robin (oh no a child had an appropriate reaction to sexual violence). Jason deserved to die for being human.
Infantilization - Jason is repeatedly infantilized in contrast to Bruce. When given the ultimatum at the end of UtRH, Bruce speaks to Jason like a child, or a bad dog. Ordering him to do things like, “enough!” or “stop this now.” Bruce knows what’s best for Jason (and for everyone in the entire world), we should really just take his word for it and not the victim’s. Imagine staring at a 6 foot wall of a man and scolding him like a child. Beyond that, as mentioned above, his views of love and safety are framed as childish. Even though they are actually leaning more toward collectivism rather than the rampant individualism that Bruce so strongly defers to. (also, just a side note, collectivistic methods in healing from trauma is actually the only scientifically reliable way to heal. Every other method has absolutely abysmal results and higher rates of relapses.)
Silenced and Safety Villainized - Jason is silenced in his own story, acceptable and honored when he was dead and met with vitriol in life. All of the love given to him as Robin turns to ash as soon as he collides with Bruce’s power and morals. I think any survivor can relate to the experience of being told that what happened to them was a long time ago and it’s time to move on. Or even that they’re leveraging their own safety to get what they want in a manipulative way. Regardless of whether or not there was any accountability or justice for the harm done to them. Alfred asks Bruce if he should remove Jason’s memorial in the cave like two seconds after learning of his resurrection because Jason’s methods of securing safety for himself and using his own voice to define his story. Bruce was able to tell Jason’s story when he died. He was able to memorialize, grieve, and ultimately define Jason’s story because Jason wasn’t there to speak for himself. When Jason does speak for himself, he is villainized and literally stripped of his past significance as Robin (or a good victim) by Alfred within seconds. This is reflected in real life with adoptee advocates speaking about how adoption is unethical/harmful/traumatizing and subsequently being framed as ungrateful, selfish, etc. They were little perfect victims without voices before they grew up and could speak for themselves.
Erased - Gestures at the entirety of how Jason is either talked about or completely erased during the 90s Tim Robin run. He wasn’t convenient to talk about, as victims rarely are. This also ties into how Steph’s death was erased and Babs was written like she “won” at trauma by simply... beating it??? 
Dangerous - Jason is framed as threatening the basic fabric of society (in a story with vigilantes this is hard to do, so they have him oppose the no-kill rule, and then doubled down on Bruce’s characterization of no-killing). Anything that bucks the status-quo is usually marked as villainous in mainstream vigilante/superhero comics, but this is a step beyond that into the interpersonal and political sphere. Hysterical women are often framed as dangerous, villains, snakes, and treacherous (the other side of this coin is weak, pathetic, and pitiable) because they are victimized and then have the audacity to do something to the system about it. Whether that be the system of their immediate families or the political sphere. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Jason was paired with Talia in Lost Days to hammer this point home to the reader. It could’ve just as easily been anyone with access to the Pit that rescued him, but no, we had DC’s favorite brown, treacherous, venomous, female punching bag. 
Bruce Wayne, The Batman
Bruce fits well into the father, enforcer, and logical man slot in Jason’s hysterical story. There is a history of ownership throughout women’s history when it comes to their subjugation to men. Women actually couldn’t be put on trial before the witchcraft genocide because they weren’t seen as legally a person. Their male owner would be put on trial instead. Women would go from being owned by their fathers to their husbands after entering marriage, the most dangerous woman being one who isn’t owned (orphaned, widowed). Bruce does treat (and even thinks) about Jason like he’s something that he owns. He’s his protege, his son, and his responsibility. 
The narrative function of Bruce as a perpetrator in Jason’s story. 
“The perpetrator asks the bystander (reader) to do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander (reader) to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement and remembering” (Herman). 
Bruce does remember what happened to Jason. He keeps a permanent memorial to his dead son. However, this doesn’t translate into any kind of tangible action. He doesn’t do anything to actually stop the murderer who took his son’s life and he continues to throw child soldiers at the problem of crime (how many children have died for the sake of his no-kill rule at this point?). When met with the reality of his inaction, he fits into the perpetrator’s role like a glove:
“In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the first line of defense... If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens... From the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization... One can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it upon herself; and in any case it’s time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater his prerogative to name and define reality, the more completely his arguments prevail” (Herman). 
I think it is simply fact at this point that Bruce is the head patriarch in Gotham if not, arguably, in the entirety of DC. That level of power in the narrative cannot be ignored, especially when faced with the very real, screaming voice of a victim that Bruce uses all of that power to silence. Bruce, because of his status as patriarch, default protagonist, and self-insert for the toxic male power fantasy, has the ultimate power to name and define reality. Especially to the reader. Bruce doesn’t deny what happened to Jason, because that’s physically impossible to do. But what he does do is ensure that no one listens to Jason, discredits him, and rationalizes his own inaction, actions of violence towards Jason, and victim blames.
Here’s Bruce using the most base form of denial and victim blaming:
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After this panel, Bruce also revokes Dick’s access to his childhood home simply for asking a question.
This theme extends to other members of the batfam because of Bruce’s narrative power over them. It’s why we can’t have Dick, Steph, Babs, or even Damian step in and relate to Jason’s trauma or vindicate him. Even when we, the readers, can see parallels and wonder why these conversations or bonds aren’t forming. Jason HAS to be a lone wolf because he is hysterical and a threat to the system of power. This also shows why most of his runs in group settings outside of the batfam fall apart or fall flat. If he was humanized by any other character or had his trauma validated in any actionable way, it would be recognizing the failure of the toxic male power fantasy. The readers are not supposed to see the flaw in this system that allows the bodies of children to pile up and sympathize with one of their voices. It would be a crack in the system of power that exists not only in the source material, but very much within our real world.
Side note: Jason is allowed to interact with others in a wholesome and validating way when he no longer threatens the systemic power of Bruce. When he is silenced by the writers and plays the “nice victim” (like Babs does), he is allowed connection. Only when his healing is done in a way that doesn’t demand action and is only his personal responsibility (gotta love the rampant individualism). If he is hysterical, demands action, and asks for someone to be held accountable for his death, he is shoved away into a lone wolf box. Examples: Gotham Knights (from my very basic understanding, I haven’t played the game, only seen play throughs) and WFA. Victims are acceptable if they do their healing in a neat little box and stay there, but hysterics are the ones who step outside of that box.
Red Hood, The Political Voice of Hysteria and Trauma
Red Hood is deeply political in terms of hysteria and trauma. Herman stated that victims and those that authentically care for them or listen to them intently (whether that be interpersonally, clinically, or professionally) are silenced, ostracized, and discredited. Survivors need a social context that supports the victim and that joins the victim and witness in a common alliance. On an interpersonal level this looks like family, friends, and loved ones. However, trauma is systemic and the social context mentioned above must also be given on a wider social scale. For this to be done, there had to be systemic change and political action. Jason had the interpersonal social support and witnesses to his trauma ripped from him by Bruce. So, we see him move onto a systemic level of addressing trauma in his own political way. He literally cannot escape Bruce and this constant trigger because of Bruce’s philosophy and just... fucking power to define reality... being re-enforced constantly in DC no matter where he tries to go. So, he tries to heal by taking the systemic issue of perpetrators who cannot be held accountable or have fallen through the cracks of accountability into his own hands in a very personal way. A one man political movement.
Whether his methods are moral or ethical doesn’t really matter in the overall framing him as hysteric. He simply has to be opposed by the male power fantasy in some significant way. This shows that the goals, needs, and work towards victim’s and the marginalized’s freedom is dangerous, doomed to fail, and ultimately unethical if the victim is framed in a villain light instead of the more pathetic/pitiable iteration of hysteria. 
You can see how this is not only problematic but also reflects the real world values instilled in arguments against human rights movements (which are intrinsically tied to victims rights). Defunding the police is dangerous, the MeToo movement is dangerous, abolition is dangerous, trans rights are dangerous, etc etc etc. Think of the victims voices tied to each of these movements and how they are integral to the real change offered by these political movements. You can’t have human rights violations without creating victims. And you can’t have political movements surrounding human rights without listening to victims.
We can also see how the individuals within these movements are ostracized, villianized, and often silenced (sometimes ultimately silenced with death) because they rally against the systems of power that victimized them. The framing of traumatized, vulnerable people as hysterical is integral to upholding the system of power that traumatizes and harms them.
A popular comic book movie adaptation that highlights the importance of Jason’s hysterical framing and how it impacts the political narrative/how he is written is V for Vendetta. To be fair, it received an insane amount of backlash by conservatives (not within leftist or liberal spaces) for V’s methods in over throwing fascism, but only because of the movie’s release date being so close to 9/11. V and Jason have many parallels, it’s only the lack of hysterical framing that makes V more palatable to the viewer. We are told, not shown through behavior, that V is traumatized by his past and he does not pick a fight with the protagonist that functions as a toxic male power fantasy. He is the protag, with his version of Bruce being men who are not framed in a sympathetic, heroic, or relatable light. 
Additionally, there is literally an unemoting mask standing between the viewer and V, whereas Jason takes off his helmet to allow the reader to see every aspect of his trauma and pain. V readily dehumanizes himself into an idea, rather than a person. Whereas Jason screams to be seen as a person in a very hysterical way. So, we can see how the framing of Jason as hysteric against the logical, heroic man greatly impacts how the audience reads him when contrasted by a very similar political story/character who uses similar (and arguably more violent) methods to meet his ends. (This just made me realize that I would die for a Jason adaptation written by the Wachowski sisters). 
Jason’s work as Red Hood is seeped in leftist, victim, and community centered politics. His portrayal as a hysterical antagonist (at best an anti-hero) is rooted in misogyny and upholding patriarchal, capitalist, and the prison industrial complex systems of power. He is the righteous embodiment of “the personal is political” for victims. Even his Robin run draws attention to and shows correct, angry reactions to the system of patriarchal power in sexual violence.
Patriarchal Writing and Enforcement
Jason is girl-coded and hysterical because he’s supposed to be emasculated, discredited, and disliked by the reader. He serves the narrative function of boosting the toxic male power fantasy of Bruce and in doing so, the writers use one of the oldest tropes in the book (one that we have all subconsciously been taught since birth) to get the reader on their side. Make him a hysterical woman. 
References: for anyone interested in furthering their understanding of any of the concepts mentioned above and to, you know, use sources for my own writing.
Barstow, A. Witchcraze
Bondi, L., Burman. E. Women and Mental Health: A Feminist Review
Freud, S. The Aietology of Hysteria
Gilman, C. P. The Yellow Wallpaper
Herman, J. Trauma and Recovery
Ussher, J. The Madness of Women.
Van der Kolk, B. The Body Keeps the Score
Wilkin, L., Hillock, S. Enhancing MSW Students’ Efficacy in Working with Trauma, Violence, and Oppression: An Integrated Feminist-Trauma Framework for Social Work Education
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thesimline · 10 months
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A big happy 4th of July to my American simmers! What better way to celebrate than by creating a look book showcasing some of the most notable and iconic first ladies?
CC links under the cut.
Martha Washington was the first first lady of the United States, although the title wasn’t coined until after her death. She took on the social role of the president's wife reluctantly, becoming a national celebrity in the process.
Mop Cap  |  Hair  |  Dress (Recolour)  |  Dress (Mesh - TSR)  |  Fichu (Scarf)  |  Watch (Vintage Glamour)
Louisa Adams was born in London and raised in France. In fact she was the only foreign-born first lady until Melania Trump. While serving she took to writing, producing plays, essays, poems, and an autobiography.
Hair  |  Earrings  |  Dress  |  Undershirt & Shoes  |  Socks (Get To Work)
Mary Todd Lincoln staunchly supported her husband throughout his presidency and was active in keeping national morale high during the Civil War. She was seated next to Abraham when he was infamously assassinated.
Hair  |  Earrings  |  Dress
Frances Cleveland is the only first lady to have served in the role during two non-consecutive terms. At just 21 years old when she first starting serving, she is the youngest presidential spouse in American history and the first to actually marry in the White House.
Hair  |  Suit (direct download - Marilla’s suit)  |  Gloves (My Wedding Stories)
Nellie Taft was a very progressive woman for her time and was closely involved in the political aspects of the presidency, regularly sitting in on meetings and serving as her husband's closest advisor.
Hair  |  Earrings  |  Choker  |  Dress  |  Shoes
Mamie Eisenhower was a popular first lady and recognized as a fashion icon, known for her iconic bangs and frequent use of the colour pink.
Hair  |  Earrings  |  Dress  |  Watch (Vintage Glamour)  |  Shoes (Base Game)
Jackie Kennedy (header) was regarded as an international fashion icon and her work as a cultural ambassador of the United States made her very popular globally. She  established the White House Historical Association, which has had a lasting impact on the cultural landscape of the United States.
Hair (Nifty Knitting)  |  Earrings (Base Game)  |  Suit
Betty Ford was one of the most candid first ladies in history, commenting on the hot-button issues of the time such as feminism, equal pay, the Equal Rights Amendment, sex, drugs, and abortion. After undergoing her own recovery, she founded and served as the first chair of the board of directors of the Betty Ford Center for substance abuse and addiction.
Hair  |  Suit  |  Ring (My Wedding Stories)  |  Shoes (Base Game)
Michelle Obama worked as an advocate for poverty awareness, education, nutrition, physical activity, and healthy eating during her time as first lady. She also supported American designers and was considered a fashion icon.
Hair  |  Necklace  |  Dress  |  Shoes (Recolour)  |  Shoes (Mesh - TSR)
With thanks to some amazing creators: @buzzardly28​ @simulatedstyles​ @rustys-cc​ @serenity-cc​ @wondercarlotta​ @joliebean @madlensims @sentate
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hearthouses · 7 months
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hello!! happy wincest wednesday! I'm not great at coming up with questions but-- are there any aspects of wincest or any tropes or angles you've been thinking about recently that are making you go particularly nuts???
This is a good and fun question!
So... I'm kind of an intense nerd who has people pleasing syndrome as well as fun traits like issues with choice paralysis, so picking one of my many many many ideas is very difficult, so in order to keep track of things I am interested for me, I have a document that is called "iddy ideas" which are essentially concepts that speak directly to my id. I'm gonna use the headers as way to answer this because otherwise I will forget something and it'll bug me, so things that live in my psyche re: Winchesters are:
→ DEAN & GENDER: I have a few asks in drafts that need answering about this topic, so I will keep this sort of brief—I am really into how Dean and his relationship to gender, and how the roles he plays in life force him into one box or another. I tend to headcanon him on the nonbinary/genderfluid spectrum, even if he’d never personally identify as either. I love exploring how he often uses toxic masculinity as a shield and how he uses it to cover up the more vulnerable aspects of his desires and identity. As for the Sam/Dean angle, I really love Sam figuring it out and using lingerie kink and feminization kink as a way for Dean to explore in a way that doesn’t completely freak him out. There’s a long fic in my head that I’ve been too nervous to write about this.
→ OMEGAVERSE & PREGNANCY: I have come up with so many ways to get Dean pregnant because I think about this topic so often. I won’t bore you with the list. I am unfortunately a sucker for pregnancy and kid fics as a trope. I don’t often read them because I prefer realism in the sense that the kid has to feel like an actual kid to me and not a symbol of happiness and completeness. For Sam/Dean, I enjoy the fucked up aspects of having a kid with your brother and how they would be so into that because it’s combining themselves into another living being, that they made together, ultimate symbol of their intense incestuous love. I also think Dean very much wants kids, but didn’t think he could have them with Sam, while I think Sam would really only want to have kids with Dean. I have many AUs where it is also the worst possible time for this to happen because I live for the melodrama. I also like post-pregnancy and seeing the kids grow up to be fucked up in their own special and unique ways.
→ DOMESTICITY & DISABILITY: I am simple and sometimes I want to force Sam and Dean to retire and live in a little cabin or cottage in the woods somewhere so they can grow old. Often, I think for the only way that makes sense for them to do so is if one or both were physically incapable of hunting anymore. I love them being forced to slow down and take care of one another. Given their lives, permenent injury is pretty likely and I love exploring the ways in which they'd have to grow and adjust to their new realities. Also, I kind of just want certain ideas presented in canon explored? Like Sam's issues with his sense of reality and hallucinations, or both of them having chronic pain. Plus, there should be more finale AUs where Dean lives, but he has mobility issues now.
→ WINCHESTERS & RAPE RECOVERY: Both Sam and Dean are rape survivors who repeatedly are sexually assaulted throughout the narrative, but they both react so differently to similar traumas and I would like to have this explored since the show wouldn't. Hell trauma also goes under this umbrella. I am fascinated by the ways in which Sam and Dean are mirrors and foils, and would like to explore the interiority of that. I’m also very into concepts and ideas that explore how their respective trauma informs some of their kinks i.e. I think post-s7 Sam especially wants more pain kink and D/s where he submits to get out of his own head and Dean struggling with the dom role due to his trauma from hell where he was put into the position of torturer and rapist, and them having to figure out to make that work without sending Dean into a tailspin.
→ CONSENT ISSUES: I love fuck or die, sex pollen, curses, and all related tropes. I also like "dark" versions of Sam or Dean (Demon!Dean, Soulless!Sam, Shapeshifters, Leviathans, etc.) menacing and putting the other in situations. I will never tire of this.
→ BOY KING SAM & MAGIC: Sam should be able to always have his powers as a treat. He should be able to be a little evil as a treat. Sam should get to go full on witchy as a treat. I love the demon blood arc, I love psychic wonder Sam, I love Sam who puts hex bags in witches mouthes and tells them he learned from the best. I am from the ancient times and watched the season three finale live, so my formative years were shaped by so many Sam becomes The Boy King and rescues Dean from hell fix it fics and AUs, and so it's always a favorite. I am currently writing one that is very slow going, but as a general vibe check I am calling it Sam's Moving Castle and "suiteverse but nice".
→ WEREWOLVES & MONSTER WINCHESTERS: I love werewolves and I want Sam and Dean to be werewolves and be a pack of two. But I'm not picky and would like them to be any sort of monster. I think the show was too scared of upsetting the status quo and permanently transforming them into monsters, which is a shame, but now it is now my hyperfixation when it comes to fic for them.
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refeminizeme · 2 months
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hey yall, i was here, went 2 @re--feminize-me m i was having some tech issues on my other acct and decided 2 give this one another shot!!!
Mandatory disclaimer that transphobia in real life sucks and so does misogyny etc and i dont condone pretty much anything on this blog if its not in a consensual kink context, obviously. If this content triggers you pls block me.
loves
forcefem/feminization!!!!!!!
bondage esp sh1bari
brainwashing/conditioning/mind control
bimboification/dumbification
hypnosis!!!!!
breathplay (incl. being choked and more)
dp
edging & denial
sensory deprivation ♡
likes
cnc (if in the mood)
breeding (pregnancy is less of a kink for me if at all, i used 2 be super uncomfy w it and im like, getting more comfortable w it????)
gaslighting/manipulation (consensually and negotiated first, and only w the right person so dont do this right out the gate)
spirals
intox (consensually and for the right person), esp. aphrodisiacs
degradation in very specific like, um, ways??? like um, i like sweet degradation.
exhibitionism but like um, im not like, TOOOOO into this its a minor kink for me
misogyny kink (which like, seems 2 be getting stronger lately fsr????)
curious about
lactation
hucow
consensual blackmailing
will update as i like, think of more???? if u think of anything not on this list ask me about it n like, it just may get added hahahahahaha
hard limits
findom/me
v0mit
watersports/scat
cgl/ddlg/daddy dom anything
age/re
alternate personality stuff/anything related to that
feet
body shaming, esp weight related
weight control/eating disorder stuff
racism/racist slurs/etc
any kind of inc3st including daddy/mommy as a title
ass to mouth in any capacity
rimming (giving)
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some of my hypnotic triggers im like, willing 2 share publicly:
dr*p and sle*p - some obvious ones, put me into a trance
deeper and deeper - makes me go deep real fast if used after dr*p and/or sle*p
thr*b - makes me really horny and makes my cunt, well, throb
edge esp in all caps/bolded - makes me immediately reach an edge and if im touching i HAVE 2 stop until the edge has passed
like a go0d girl - makes me want to obey whatever precedes it
submit/surrender - makes me feel very obedient n like, submissive
tr*th - makes my subconscious answer a question without my conscious mind being aware of it and i will immediately forget answering the question after
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i occasionally make detr4ns/misgen/bimbofication files (you can find them here!!) but im primarily a sub.
I've been listening to hypnosis for like 3-4 years and this is like, how ive turned out bc of it???? I really am detransitioning n becoming the best bimbo i CAN be irl this is not like, ENTIRELY a fantasy for me but i dont like, condone this stuff outside of a consensual kink context to be clear. ask me abt it??
my tits are like,,,, soooo big omg. last i posted abt them on this blog they were a DDD/F cup and now theyre an h or an i cup depending on the day??????? i like, hope they keep getting bigger 😳😳
also fwiw i AM a bigger girl, which like, means dont expect me to be the waifish manic pixie dream girl many guys like, seem to expect??? My icon + header are both me so that shld give u an idea of what to expect from my pics.
Also i do "commissions" for pics, audio, videos/gifs, etc just lmk what ur looking for n im sure we can arrange smth!! For those interested I also also have a gdrive folder of my fave nüdes (23 pics, 2 vids, n a gif) for whatever u think is a reasonable donation ♡ I'm trying to raise money for several fun detrans things so I'm like,,, open to negotiation on that. DM me if any of that interests you!!
Alternatively, follow me on Loverfans here, for free (lewd content) or $5 a month (the good stuff) ♡ Easy peasy.
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ot3 · 1 year
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Got a radfem tag on one of my posts and as always I went through a bit of their blog to figure out if they were a terf to block them and this girls entire radical feminism tag was almost exclusively filled with posts about how lesbian separatists are too mean to women who date men. Like that was the only thing this bitch was talking about. Literally their blog header was a meme about it. Beyond parody.
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