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gootarts · 2 years ago

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as of 8/3, the most recently updated version of this post is here (it's a reblog of this exact post with more info added)

as a lot of you know, limbus company recently fired its CG illustrator for being a feminist, at 11 pm, via phone call, after a bunch of misogynists walked into the office earlier that day and demanded she be fired. on top of this, as per korean fans, her firing went against labor laws---in korea, you must have your dismissal in writing.

the korean fandom on twitter is, understandably, going scorched earth on project moon due to this. there's a lot currently going on to protest the decision, so i'm posting a list here of what's going on for those who want to limit their time on elon musk's $44 billion midlife crisis impulse purchase website (if you are on twitter, domuk is a good person to follow, as they translate important updates to english). a lot of the links are in korean, but generally they play nicely with machine translators. this should be current as of 8/2.

Statements condemning the decision have been issued by The Gyeonggi Youth Union and IT Union.

A press conference at the Gyeonggido Assembly will occur on 8/3, with lawmakers of the Gyeonggi province (where Project Moon is based) in attendance. This appears driven by the leader of the Gyeonggi Youth Union.

The vice chairman of the IT union--who has a good amount of experience with labor negotiations like these--has expressed strong support for the artist and is working to get media coverage due to the ongoing feminist witch hunts in the gaming industry. Project Moon isn't union to my knowledge, but he's noted that he's taken on nonunion companies such as Netmarble (largest mobile game dev in South Korea) by getting the issue in front of the National Assembly (Korea's congress).

Articles on the incident published in The Daily Labor News, Korean Daily, multiple articles on Hankyoreh (one of which made it to the print edition), and other news outlets.

Segments about the termination on the MBN 7 o' clock news and MBC's morning news

Comments by Youth Union leaders about looking into a loan made to Project Moon via Devsisters Ventures, a venture capital firm. Tax money from Gyeonggi province was invested in Devsisters in 2017, and in 2021, Devsisters gave money to Project Moon. The Gyeonggi Youth Union is asking why hard-earned tax money was indirectly given to a company who violates ESG (environmental, social and governance) principles.

Almost nonstop signage truck protests outside Project Moon's physical office during business hours until 8/22 or the company makes a statement. This occurs alongside a coordinated hashtag campaign to get the issue trending on Twitter in Korea. The signage campaign was crowd-funded in about 3 hours.

A full boycott of the Limbus Company app, on both mobile and PC (steam) platforms. Overseas fans are highly encouraged to participate, regardless if whether they're F2P or not. Not opening the app at all is arguably the biggest thing any one person can do to protest the decision, as the app logs the number of accounts that log on daily. For a new gacha such as Limbus, a high number of F2P daily active users, but a small number of paying users is often preferable to having a smaller userbase but more paying users. If the company sees the number of daily users remain stable, they will likely decide to wait out any backlash rather than apologize.

Digging up verified reviews from previous employees regarding the company's poor management practices

Due to the firing, the Leviathan artist has posted about poor working conditions when making the story. As per a bilingual speaker, they were working on a storyboard revision, and thought 'if I ran into the street right now and got hit by a car and died, I wouldn't have to keep working.' They contacted Project Moon because they didn't want their work to be like that, and proposed changes to serialization/reduction in amount of work per picture/to build up a buffer of finished images (they did not have any buffer while working on Leviathan to my knowledge). They were shut out, and had to suck it up and accept the situation.

Hamhampangpang has a 'shrine' section of the restaurant for fans to leave fan-created merch and other items. They also allow the fans to take this merch back if they can prove it's theirs. Fans are now doing just that.

To boost all of the above, a large number of Korean fanartists with thousands of followers have deleted their works and/or converted their accounts from fanart accounts to accounts supporting the protests. Many of them are bilingual, and they're where I got the majority of this information.

[note 1: there's a targeted english-language disinformation campaign by the website that started the hate mob. i have read the artist's tweets with machine translation, and they're talked about in the second hankyoreh article linked above: nowhere does she express any transphobic or similarly awful beliefs. likewise, be wary of any claims that she supported anything whose description makes you raise eyebrows--those claims are likely in reference to megalia, a korean feminist movement. for information on that, i'd recommend the NPR/BBC articles below and this google drive link of english-language scholarly papers on them. for the love of god don't get your information about a feminist movement from guys going on witch hunts for feminists.]

[note 2: i've seen a couple people argue that the firing was for the physical safety of the employees, citing the kyoani incident in japan. as per this korean fan, most fans there strongly do not believe this was the case. we have english-translated transcripts of the meeting between the mob and project moon; the threats the mob was making were to......brand project moon as a feminist company online. yes, really. male korean gamers aren't normal about feminism, and there's been an ongoing witch hunt for feminists in the industry since about 2016, something you see noted in both the labor union statements. both NPR and the BBC this phenomenon to gamergate, and i'd say it's a pretty apt comparison.]

let me know if anything needs correction or if anything should be added.

#project moon #limbus company #obligatory text post tag #that's all i've got for now. highly encourage y'all to not open limbus until they make a statement

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eighth-heroine · 1 year ago

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bitchin'

pairing: dean winchester x reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), SMUT, only one bed~ enemies to lovers (kinda), unprotected p in v (encase before you embrace), hate sex, Dean calls reader "princess" mockingly, manhandling, slapping, spanking, big dick!Dean has all the audacity, dirty talk, degradation, choking, cum eating, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, squirting

word count: 4.7k

To say you were unhappy to be working with Dean Winchester would be putting it lightly. A massive understatement, in fact. But, as luck would have it, you needed backup on a vamp case; and when you called Bobby Singer for help, it turned out that Dean was the only hunter nearby.

Your jaw set uncomfortably as you dialed his number and held the phone to your ear. Asking for help from anyone was hard, but from this man? Practically your mortal enemy? A feeling of shame, or maybe embarrassment, crept into your stomach as you listened to the phone ring.

He's probably just watching it ring, you thought cynically. Who's to say he would pick up at all? Maybe he won't, you hoped.

There was a laundry list of reasons why Dean was the last person you'd want to work with on a case. He was reckless, had no respect for plans, and tended to go in guns blazing without regard for his own life, which meant that you would constantly be saving his ass. And boy, was he a pain in yours.

The cherry on top of the Dean Winchester disaster cake was that he hated your guts. You never really figured out why, but you assumed it was his misogynistic tendency to be completely contrary to any woman he met who didn't fall all over him. God forbid a woman doesn't care about his rugged good looks or roguish bravery!

When he finally picked up, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, dripping with self-righteousness. "Well, well. What do you want?"

You decided it would be best to cut to the chase and just get it over with. "I'm working a case in Nevada," you said calmly. He would not get you riled up. "Vegas. There's a vamp nest, been snatching homeless people. Tunnel dwellers," you added. "Not that it matters. People are people, vamps are vamps."

"What are you tellin' me for?" Dean asked gruffly. He was gonna make you say it. Of fucking course he was, because he just had to hold it over your head.

"Need backup," you said curtly. "There's at least five of them."

"So what you're sayin' is...." The smugness in his voice was unmistakeable.

"I need your help, you dick."

"Oh do you now."

You huffed, already fed up with him. "Bobby says you're the only hunter he knows nearby. Said you're in Flagstaff."

"Maybe I am," he said vaguely. "Bobby should know not to tell you anything about where I am or recommend me as reinforcements for you."

"He didn't want to, but I made him. Are you coming or not?" you said sharply.

I'll be there by nightfall. Don't wait up," he said teasingly and hung up, leaving you to listen to the tone, steaming.

Why does he have to make everything so difficult?

Rough pounding on the door of your motel room startled you up from your chair at midnight. Dean wasn't even in the room yet, and he was already tormenting you. You went to the door and jerked it open, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the headache coming on.

"Honey, I'm home," Dean said wickedly. He pushed past you into the room, dropping his duffel bags in the middle of the floor. He dropped into the chair you had just vacated and looked up at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you warned him, eyes narrowing.

"Hey, I'm just excited to kill some vamps," he said, jabbing a finger towards you.

"Give it up. We both know you would rather be anywhere else."

"True," he conceded. "But let me just bask in the moment real quick."

You roll your eyes and return to your task, packing up your stuff. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay here. I was followed earlier."

"Perfect," Dean said sarcastically. "Of course you were."

You turn on him. "It can happen to anyone."

"Sure," he mocked. "So what's the plan, genius?"

Your face hardened. "We take the fight to them."

"Say no more."

The vampire's nest was in an abandoned warehouse (real original) that was a few streets away from one of the tunnels that the homeless had set up camp in. Chain link fence, corrugated metal, broken windows, the whole deal. And of course Dean wouldn't wait to make a game plan, sliding open a side door like nothing bad was waiting to jump him. In a vampire nest. At night.

All you could do was follow him, machete at the ready, and hope that the scuffing of his boots on the concrete floor wouldn't alert any vampires to your presence.

Dean ducked down, holding a fist in the air. You hurried behind him and crouched behind a shelf just in time to miss a patrolling vampire rounding the corner. Without missing a beat, Dean jumped out behind it and chopped it at the neck soundlessly. The body fell to the floor. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good.

You crept in the direction the fang had come from, Dean hot on your heels. He was so close you could hear his leather jacket creaking, smell his cologne, feel him practically breathing down your neck. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, then suddenly you hear voices. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, causing Dean to bump into you. You elbowed him and gave him a look.

Peeking around the doorframe, you saw what appeared to be the vamps' main hangout room. And there were a lot more than five of them, lounging around the walls, circling victims that were hung by their wrists from a beam.

"We can take them," Dean whispered in your ear.

You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" you hissed back. You tried to count the dark shapes in the next room. "There's at least ten in there. There's only two of us."

"We can do it." Without waiting for a reply, Dean busted down the door and started swinging. You had no choice but to follow as the vampires started coming out of their startled stupor and attacking.

Dean cut down two of them easily, their heads rolling on the floor before they knew what hit them. The rest, however, had time to react.

One of the vampires rushed you, just managing to avoid your blade as you swung it. She snarled and leapt towards you. You slashed her across the chest and she howled, clutching her shirt. You took the opportunity and decapitated her.

Someone grabbed you from behind, claw-like nails scratching your neck as it was forced to the side, baring your skin. You stabbed behind you, blade finding purchase, and used the distraction to cut off the fang's head.

Another vamp rushed you from the front. You swung your blade out in defense, but he just grabbed it and ripped it from your hand. Then, as if they could smell your defenselessness, you were suddenly swarmed, vampires clawing at your skin, your clothes, pulling your hair. Several hard punches landed to your gut and your face and the wind was knocked out of you as you fell to the floor, smacking the side of your head into the concrete. You yelped in pain and shock.

A boot pressed into the side of your neck and your vision was suddenly obscured by a heavy-set vampire bearing down on you, grinning. "Not so tough now without your little sword," he sneered, fangs descending. His mouth was smeared with blood and you could smell the tang of iron on his breath. You struggled to breathe as the pressure on your neck increased, your vision getting spotty.

Great, this is how I die....

As if in the distance, you heard Dean shout. The looming face of the vamp was promptly detached from its body, hitting the floor by your head. His body fell on top of yours, his gross bloody neck stump right in your view. The boot left your neck and charged in the direction of Dean's voice.

You struggled to free yourself from beneath the former vamp, ears ringing from your near-suffocation. You could hear the ensuing scuffle, all grunts and wet slices and heavy footfalls, but you had no idea who was winning.

Then, it was silent.

You held your breath instinctively, listening to a lone pair of footsteps approaching you. You found yourself realizing for the first time that you hoped Dean was coming. Better than the alternative.

Sure enough, Dean's hunt-beaten face appeared above you, screwed up with effort as he pushed the large vamp's body off of you. You sat up quickly, surveying the carnage, slapping away the extended helping hand. The shock of your near death experience wore off quickly, but the adrenaline from the fight did not, so your energy turned towards Dean.

"What the fuck, Dean?" you yelled, rising to your feet, wincing from the pain in your sides.

"What do you mean what the fuck?" he returned angrily. "I just saved your goddamn life!"

"After you endangered it!" you shoved him, scowling furiously. "Ten to two are not good odds! We could have fucking died! I almost did!"

"Hazards of the job, sweetheart!"

"There's hazards, and then there's suicide," you replied, fuming.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't have to thank me."

"I won't." You shoved him out of your way and made for the door. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."

"Not so fast, princess," Dean called after you. "Hunt's not over."

You froze in your tracks. "What."

"I didn't get all of 'em." You whirled around to face Dean, who was looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Your voice was dangerously quiet. "What do you mean you didn't get all of them?"

He made an attempt at a self-confident grin. "They saw me ganking their buddies like nobody's business, turned tail and ran. I was more concerned about saving your life than to chase."

You smirked tauntingly. "Oh, you cared about my life?"

Dean just shrugged. "Couldn't just leave you there."

"Whatever." You started walking to the entrance again. "Since you let some get away, I say we get a night's sleep. They'll probably be expecting us to come after them, so they won't hunt again tonight. We can pick up the trail in the morning."

"What do you mean you only have one room left?" Dean asked angrily, slamming his hands down on the motel counter.

The clerk looked at him blankly. "Just what I said."

You were at the cheapest motel you could find in the city that was built on tourism. You and Dean were both short on cash, so it seemed like the best option. It was this or take shelter with the junkies in the tunnels.

"I'm not spending the night in the same room as her!"

You hit his shoulder. "Hey!"

"Like you don't feel the same," Dean said exasperatedly, digging out his wallet. "Next cheapest is still too expensive. I'm basically broke," he whined, rifling through his meager collection of bills.

"What happened to all your credit cards, Mr. Fraud?" you sneered.

Dean glared at you. You glared back. After a few moments, the clerk cleared his throat.

"So, do you want the room or not?"

You dropped your bags just inside the door of the room. "You're fucking kidding me."

Dean pushed past you. "What- oh. Oh my goddd." He ran his hand down his face tiredly.

Staring you in the face was the decidedly lumpy surface of a double bed. One. That fucking clerk could've warned you.

You and Dean slowly looked at each other, then you made a mad dash to claim the bed, shoving each other out of the way, kicking, tackling, until you both lay tangled on the floor, still not in the bed. You had his arm pinned behind his back, but he was pinning you to the floor with his weight.

You jerked on his arm, panting, and he grunted painfully, digging his knee into your side.

"Say.. uncle," you gritted out.

"You first!" Dean rasped.

"No!"

You laid there for a few more seconds, then, almost as if it was painful, Dean asked, "Should we- call it a draw?"

You rolled your eyes and released him. He rolled off of you, getting to his feet. He didn't help you up, of course.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said spitefully.

"Well, neither am I." Your eyes narrowed.

You laid on the bed stiffly, positioned all the way at the edge of the mattress, as far away from Dean as possible. He was doing the same, and the blanket was pulled taut between you as you wordlessly battled over it.

You were steaming. You should have known that everything would go to shit if you called on him. He completely ruined what should have been a one-hour job, endangering your life and letting a few vamps go. He did, technically, save your life though. You were grateful, but you wouldn't tell him that in a million years.

Adrenaline from the hunt and your constant fighting with Dean coursed through your veins, keeping every sense on high alert. Every tug of the sheets from Dean lit a fire under your skin. His weight behind you on the bed filled you with a painful awareness of how touch-starved you truly were. As much as you tried to suppress it, tension began building in your core.

You shifted uncomfortably, squeezing your thighs together. "Ugh," you let out before you could stop yourself.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled through the darkness.

The sound of his voice, rough with tiredness, intensified how extremely horny you felt. You felt your underwear getting damp in spite of your hate for the man.

"God dammit," you said frustratedly, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"What?" Dean said, throwing the covers back and sitting up too. "Why can't you just let me fucking sleep?"

"Nothing," you snapped, taking a swig from your water bottle. Hydrating would calm you down, surely.

"Yeah, right," he snapped back. "What the fuck is wrong?"

"I'm really fucking horny, Christ!" you blurt, whirling on him.

"If I fuck you, will you stop bitchin'?" Dean demanded, fire and a deadly seriousness in his eyes.

You opened and closed your mouth, stunned.

He just smirked at you. "Is that what it takes to shut you up?"

You stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"You want me so bad, huh." He moved across the bed and settled right behind you, his face in your neck, inches away from your own.

"Shut up," you say, flustered, still trying to keep some semblance of control. But you couldn't deny the arousal pooling in your gut.

"Say the word," Dean said smoothly, breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.

"Fuck," you whispered, cursing what you're about to do. You turned your head and smashed your lips to his.

Dean responded immediately, pulling you backwards and into his lap. He bit at your lips, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You made an indignant sound, battling him for dominance, teeth clashing in a messy display of pure desire.

Your lips only parted to rip off each other's shirts. You dug your fingernails into Dean's bare shoulders as hard as you could, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him, which came in the form of a deep groan into your mouth. He broke away, panting, and flung you onto your back on the mattress.

Leering down at you, he placed himself between your legs. "That's how you wanna play, huh princess?"

He yanked your leg up by the knee and slapped the back of your thigh. An involuntary moan escaped your mouth, and Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

"Just shut up and fuck me," you whined, hitting his side with your foot.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Bad girls don't get what they want."

You sat up and came nose to nose with him. "If you think for one second that I am going to sit here and play submissive for you-"

Dean laced his fingers through the back of your hair and sharply tugged your head back. You moaned in response. A smile slowly grew over his face and he let go abruptly and shoved you back down. Your back barely hit the mattress before he was yanking off your sleep shorts and underwear in one go, tossing them to the far reaches of the room. You gasped as the cool air from the room hit your core, driving home the fact that you were now completely exposed to him.

"Aw, already so wet for me," Dean jeered, running a finger up your slit roughly. You flinched away from the sudden contact, heat spreading to your face.

"Don't flatter yourself," you gasped as he shoved a finger inside you, curling it vigorously, relishing the wet sounds your pussy produced.

Dean palmed himself through his pajama pants, groaning. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he added a second finger inside you, scissoring you open. At least he has the decency to prepare me, you thought.

He yanked his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a quick slap, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling.

"Don't whine," Dean said roughly, getting off the bed and kicking off his pants and boxers. You looked down, unable to help yourself.

You saw where he got all his confidence from. He was big. You practically quivered with anticipation. You loved a good stretch, and you liked it rough, and this was about to be both.

"Like what you see?" Dean mocked, shaking his cock.

"Looks like maybe your confidence isn't completely unwarranted," you admitted dryly. You could feel your combative spirit giving way to lust, but you weren't giving up that easily.

He winked, grabbed your ankles and jerked you to the edge of the bed, your thighs around his waist, your hair fanned out on the blanket behind your head. Dean took hold of your calves and pressed your knees up by your face, leaning over you and pinning you down with his weight again. Only this time, it was way hotter.

"Gonna be good for me?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"In your fucking dreams," you spat.

In one fluid motion, he backed off of you, grabbed you by the waist, and spun you onto your stomach. You squeaked as a heavy hand landed on your ass, much harder than he hit before.

You used your feet, barely touching the floor, to push yourself back towards him, hoping he would get the point and just fuck you already without you having to ask him again.

"So fucking needy," he murmured in your ear. "Use your words, princess."

"Fuck you," you moaned, feeling his cock jerk against your leg.

"Mmm, that's not right," Dean warned, fingers digging into your hips.

You grit your teeth. "Fuck me."

Dean splayed his fingers over your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him, and thrust into you roughly, filling you in one go.

You gasped, feeling his cock throb inside you as your pussy complained against the intrusion and desperately tried to adjust to his size. He groaned as you clenched around him, pulling out slowly and slamming back in.

"Dean," you gasped out. "Don't be such a fucking tease."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, princess," Dean growled, his thrusts becoming faster. "You asked for this."

"Technically- you offered," you corrected, eyes screwing shut at the pleasure building inside you with each thrust.

"God, shut- up," Dean griped, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that hit just right, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from you.

He just grunted, hips colliding against you, now just chasing his own high. You pressed your face into the bed, clutching the blanket with both fists, fortifying yourself against Dean's relentless pace. His fingers pressed deeply into your hips, carving out a place for him, letting you know you wouldn't be coming away from this encounter unbruised.

"God, you're so fucking tight," Dean rasped, slapping your ass. You moaned in response, unable to think of a witty retort. "Bet it's been a long time since you were fucked, huh?"

When you didn't reply, he slapped your ass again, on the other side, sending fireworks through your core.

"Bet that's why you're so desperate for me," he groaned. "Haven't gotten laid in a while. Bet that's why you're such a bitch, too," he added snarkily.

"Oh, fuck off," you mumbled into the mattress.

Dean pulled out, much to your chagrin, turning you onto your back again. "If you want," he said, eyes glimmering with mischief.

You pouted and whined, hooking your feet around his waist and trying to pull him back. You were rewarded with a sharp slap to your pussy. You cried out from the stimulation.

"Don't whine," he growled, pushing into you again on the last word.

"Sorry," you whispered in spite of yourself, gripping onto his arms as he cages you in with his body.

"What was that?" Dean said, grinning wickedly and thrusting into you sharply.

"Fuck-" you moaned instead, refusing to cooperate.

He wraps his hand around your throat loosely, putting slight pressure just under your jaw. Your eyes widened as he slowly increased the pressure, jeering down at you, still slamming into you at an incredible pace. Your body started to become overwhelmed with all the sensory input and your core tightened.

You knew Dean felt it, because he grimaced. "Gonna come, you little slut?" he taunted, reaching down with his free hand to rub harshly at your clit. A low whine released from the back of your throat.

His grip tightened around your neck to see your reaction. You gasped, straining to get a full breath in, your pussy clenching hard around his cock.

"Such a fucking slut that you're gonna come from being choked out," Dean said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Fuck- Dean," you choked out, both hands wrapped around his wrist. He eased up on the pressure some (he didn't want to kill you) and your hands moved desperately up his arm, gripping him tightly.

Dean was getting close, you could tell, but the question remained: would he come before you? And if he did, would he still take care of you? Somehow you doubted it. The self-absorbed jackass was probably going to cum inside you and fall asleep, like almost every other man you'd slept with.

Suddenly Dean lurched forward, shoving his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily in your ear. You clenched in surprise (and also because a man getting desperate was one of the hottest things on the planet).

Dean groaned deeply in response and bit down on your shoulder, hard. You cried out, half from pain and half from the surprising pleasure it sent roaring through you, causing your cunt to squeeze down on him tightly. He practically whimpered, detaching from your skin and pulling out, pumping himself a few times before spilling onto your stomach with a moan.

He looked down at the mess he'd made of you, dragging his fingers through his cum. Then he brought those fingers up to your mouth and pressed them against your lips. "Open."

You scowled at him, once again determined to be contrary.

Dean glared back. "Open, or you don't get to come," he said harshly, forcing his fingers between your lips and teeth.

So he was planning to take care of you. Your neediness returned in full force, and you opened your mouth to allow him to shove his fingers deep into your mouth. You gagged as his fingertips hit the back of your throat, the taste of his cum filling your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and you dutifully sucked on his fingers as he smirked down at the sight.

"Good little slut," Dean said nastily, obviously feeling proud of himself. He started to pull his fingers out and you closed your teeth, scraping his skin as he did. He slapped your cheek lazily once his hand was free. "Swallow it."

You glared, but did as you were told, sticking out your tongue to prove it.

Dean grinned. "Ready for your reward, princess?"

You moaned needily, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up towards him.

"Such a fucking whore," he chastised, bringing his hand to your clit and stroking around it lazily. A pang of arousal shot through you as you quickly approached the edge again. All thoughts of defiance went out the window as you grinded against his hand.

"Please," you whimpered, squirming under his touch.

"Since you asked so nicely," Dean mocked. He stuffed your pussy with three fingers at once, thrusting and curling them inside you. "Fuckin' dripping, princess."

He brought his other hand to your clit, thumbing it in figure eights in time with his fingers. You gasped as your core tightened. His fingers were bringing you so close to the brink and just keeping you there, never increasing the pressure just enough to push you over.

"Fuuuck," you moaned, panting. "Please, Dean! I need- I need-"

"You need what?" he teased. He twisted his fingers up to your g-spot, simultaneously ceasing his movements on your clit to press down on it hard.

"Oh, God!" you cried out, almost hyperventilating. The feeling of your orgasm building up was almost too much to bear. A dry sob wracked your body.

Dean nipped at your chest, gazing up at your contorted face with eyes so innocent looking you could've sworn, for a moment, that this was not a man you hated with your entire being, who was not currently doing the most sinful things to you with his hands.

You whimpered pathetically. "Please," you said in a small voice. "I need to come so bad." Your face flushed with shame as you finally admit what he's done to you, both with your words and body.

"All you had to do was ask," Dean said, sickly sweet. His hands sparked into motion again, redoubling their efforts. You let out a strangled scream as you were brought right back to the precipice, only this time, surely, he's going to let you?

It was like a pot boiling over, overwhelming heat spreading from your core out through your stomach, making your legs shake and your abs tighten. You made another strangled, desperate noise as you grinded down on his hand.

"That's it, princess, fuck yourself on my fingers," Dean goaded.

You struggled to catch your breath, eyes wide. Your face was hot and wet, and you realized numbly that tears were streaming down your face, running into your hair. He started to take his hands away, but your hands chased them, seizing them and bringing them back to your core.

Dean seemed surprised, but more than willing to fuck you past the point of no return. "Fuck, you just can't get enough, huh," he said, sounding mildly impressed. Your body shook as he all but stilled his fingers inside you, just rubbing your clit slowly until it became too much to bear and you pushed him off.

You laid there panting quietly, your body shivering from the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you'd had in a while. For once, it seemed like Dean didn't know what to say.

You closed your eyes for a moment, then suddenly felt his hand on your clit again, rubbing vigorously. Your eyes flew open and you looked down to see Dean's face set in determination. You clutched at his wrist, trying weakly to get him away, knees trying to close around him, but it didn't take long for you to cum again with a shriek, heels digging into the mattress to push yourself away. Your cunt pulsed around nothing, and you felt a gush of arousal leave you. Dean looked delighted.

"I fucking knew it," he said triumphantly, holding up his hand to survey the mess.

"What?" you asked feebly as another shiver ran through your body.

"Knew you'd be so touch-starved I could get you to squirt," Dean explained smugly. He licked some of your arousal off his hand.

You threw your head back onto the bed exasperatedly. "God, I hate you."

"Could've fooled me," he returned, displaying his hand to you and smirking.

dividers once again by @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics

#dean winchester’s 45th birthday celebration #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn smut #spn fanfiction #supernatural smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #userwraith

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ventbloglite · 2 months ago

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So someone asked on a post lately why 'tboy' was a negative listed amongst slurs and that's a good point, why was it?

The simple answer is 'some people use it as a pejorative, so it needs to be included because they keep getting away with it just because it's 'not a slur' and can be used completely innocently'. But the real answer is a bit more nuanced.

People choose certain words for certain reasons. It's rarely, if ever, a coincidence. Even if they've picked it up from someone else or internet culture etc, the language was chosen for a reason at some point and continues to portray that meaning.

Although not always, 'boy' and 'girl' are used to refer to children, whereas 'man' and 'woman' are used to refer to adults. If the 'child' terms are applied to grown adult people, and the 'adult' terms are applied to people under 18, there is a shift in meaning. An attempt to either soften and infantilise, or to mature and harshen.

We can see this in action in a variety of situations, both antitransmasculine ones and misogynistic ones.

Grown men who commit crimes and get called 'boys' (feel sorry for him he's just a boy), but grown women rarely get called 'girls' in the same situation (she's an adult treat her as an adult). However, a startling number of under 18 year old girls get refered to as women where the intention is to mature her and make something or other seem more acceptable than it is.

'Men' as an address of respect. 'Girls' as the opposite. "You're a man, stop acting like a girl." but they don't mean child they mean a grown up women whom they are refering to with infantilising terms, adding an extra sting to the misogyny and toxic masculinity.

The same is applied to antitransmasculinity.

It's 'tboys' (regardless of age, the term '50 year old tboy' for example) but 'trans women' when the aim is to talk down to trans masculine people.

It's 'tgirls' when you want to soften the sentiment of something you're saying 'tgirls when we all forcefemme you' that is actually questionable or straight up negative.

It's 'trans men' and 'tgirls' when you want to harshen the actions of the former 'against' or in conjuction to the latter. 'Trans men when they steal things from tgirls'.

It's not unique to any one group in the slightest, but in the interest of full media literacy, do try and pick up when 'girl/boy' is being used and when 'women/men' are being used, especially if not matched up to each other (girl/man , women/boy).

Addendum: Of course, 'tboy' and 'tgirl' can be used by grown adult trans people about themselves or others and not be negative in the slightest, context is key.

#transandrophobia #antitransmasculinity

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karenandhenwilson · 1 month ago

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The thing in this fandom is, that at least since 2021 (probably longer, but I wasn't anywhere near any parts of this fandom where this shit keeps happening before that) people use words that should have an immense weight to force other fans into silence. And that means those words lose meaning. Especially as several times it worked to use those words to create mob behavior in this fandom that led to harassment campaigns because no one bothered to think for themselves or even just check the information further than the conveniently cut screenshots they were sent.

Criticize anything about Maddie? You're a victim blamer and misogynist and a danger to all DV survivors. Criticize anything about Chimney? You're a racist. Critize Hen? You're a racist and misogynist. (Sometimes. If anyone remembered that Hen was a character to talk about.)

So it's really no surprise that even before any real criticism of Eddie over his behavior in 8b started to circulate, everyone thinking about voicing that criticism was already called racist.

Is there racism and misogyny in this fandom? Yes, sure. But in 90% of the cases that accusation is loudly brought up and blindly believed, it's a blatant misinterpretation of what's actually said. Not liking a character and talking about the canon events that don't make you like them is not making you any of these things. (Interestingly enough, I can't think of any instance at all where Athena or Michael could be added to that list. Isn't that interesting and rather telling? Somehow, discussing not liking some of their behavior is perfectly okay and never caused any outrage that I'm aware of.)

Of course, the very same people who'll point fingers first and cry out the above-listed accusations, are also the ones claiming "you're just using that word to try to silence us!" when the homophobia regarding Tommy is pointed out. And of course, they'll happily ignore the glaring differences as they ignore or twist anything that doesn't fit their narrative. (And also, of course, these same people also go around saying "You like Tommy? You're clearly racist!")

No one ever made a poll about killing Chimney or Eddie or Hen or Maddie. There was very recently a poll about killing Tommy or any gay person, real or fictional, if it got you buddie and it was supported by hundreds of fans.

No one ever went around and wrote deliberately mislabeled fics to attract exactly the people as readers who'd be hurt by that about any of those characters. Or created fics turning these characters into predators and not only mislabeling those fics on AO3 but also sending them into people's inboxes. That was done numerous times about Tommy and keeps being done. (And no, properly tagged bashing fics or even fics exploring the consequences of the death of any of these characters on either side do not count here.)

No one ever called for the death of Chimney or Maddie or Eddie* or Hen over them flirting with their partner. It's happened with Tommy so often, I lost count more than a year ago. (*I know there is this one Twitter account that's dedicated to hating Eddie. But that's an outlier, not a rule.)

There are no people going around deliberately creating posts about awareness of racism or domestic violence or mental health or anything else and then going to the length of saying "But this one character who should be included by canon events is explicitly excluded!". There are several posts of that kind, and even some events, where that's the case for Tommy and Pride Month.

It's not your fucking dislike for Tommy that's making you homophobic. It's the above-detailed behavior that's making you homophobic.

#911 discourse #I know this is crying into the void because the people in question won't read this #or misinterpret and twist it as they do with everything #but I needed to get it out of my head so I made as well share after I already wrote it

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bryantmoretta · 7 days ago

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administrative affairs - sammy bryant x reader

summary: taking a night off from working for gangs and narcotics to babysit so nate so he can go out with his wife, you and sammy accidentally crush on eachother.

a/n: after watching southland after being on a shawn hatosy kick i decided to make a move back to tumblr. there could be more to this story if people want. i might just write more for just me because it was fun having the google docs opened again

warnings: this blog will always be 18+ so mdni, talks of misogyny, no description of reader, picture is just to have as a banner.

it was going to be a busy day for LAPDs gang and narcotics division, which means you’ve been drowning in work since yesterday. you were the divisions administrative assistant, which basically meant you did everything for everyone that didn’t involve having to be out on the street with a badge and gun. taging in evidence? your job. filing reports to the judge for a subpoena or warrant to be approved? your job. answering the phone and taking all kinds of messages? your job. liaising with outside departments like corrections, transport and dcfs? your job. picking up lunch and coffees all day on demand? also unfortunately your job. if phrases were in the dictionary your picture would be next to overworked and underpaid.

you had been friends with nate’s wife mariella since highschool so when you graduated from your program and nate said they had an opening in the department you applied and never looked back.

sal was a good boss, he trusted your ability to prioritize, to get the job done and because of that he approved any overtime you had to work. in his opinion it was cheaper than hiring a second assistant who would never be as good as you anyways. also he had a soft spot for you, like a second daughter of sorts, except you listened when he asked you to do something.

that’s why you’re in at 6:30 in the morning with fresh coffee on, and four dozen donuts in the break room hoping that it’s enough to have a few hours before any new tasks get added to your never ending list.

you didn’t expect anyone else to be in this early but detective bryant is at his desks shuffling through files. “you’re here early” he says to you as you pass his desk. “i could say the same to you detective.” sammy smirks. “don’t ever get married, then you won’t have to get divorced and couch surf when your crazy ex takes your house.” you nod, and huff a laugh. “noted.” with that you head to your desk and start on work mountain that has piled up.

you’re surprisingly able to work through about three quarters of your backlog before you’re approached by detective williams, the man in the office who makes you feel the most on edge. “hey sweetheart, there is no more coffee in the pot. you need to stay on top of that.” loud enough so that the whole office can hear. you’re silently getting up from your desk to fix the problem before nate pipes up. “hey williams, you never made a pot of coffee before? probably would have taken you less time then it took to walk over here.” williams scoffs “the skirt makes a better pot, i’m doing everyone a favour” you just internally roll your eyes and head to the break room. you love your job, but you really hate the misogynistic asshole boys club that goes with it. most of the men you work with are respectful but the ones who aren’t are the loudest.

you’re just turning the machine back on to get the coffee started when you turn around to sammy in your way. “williams is an ass. you don’t need to make a pot of coffee just because he asks, and you definitely don’t need to do it when he asks like that.” you turn back around and keep your head down sorting stir sticks and sugar packs refusing to make eye contact. “it’s fine, he’s right making coffee is part of my job.” you brush past him back to your desk at that. with a shake of his head sammy just watches you leave. he makes a mental note to drop how big of an ass williams is to you the next time he’s having a beer with sal so he can squash it immediately in a superior vs subordinate way before sammy knocks his lights out.

you put your head down and get back to work. you can’t stop thinking about how nice detective bryant is to you. you’ll be the first to admit that you’re really bad at dating, so for any poor man that even looks at you too long you’re going to think that they could be the one. but you’re being silly. detective bryant is recently divorced and currently couch surfing which probably means sleeping in all kinds of different women’s beds, he’s so charming and handsome there is no way he doesn’t have a line up out the door of women offering their beds for him to sleep in.

nate and sammy are heading out for the night. sammy is putting his coat on when he turns to nate “shes been here since i got in this morning, do you think she does anything else but work?” you’re concentrating on what’s in front of you and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear absentmindedly. nate watches you then looks at his partner who is sporting a look that can only be described as heart eyes. “dunno man, why don’t you ask her if she wants to come for a drink with us?” sammy looks at him then saunters over to you. when you see his shadow tower over your papers you look up from what you’re working on.

“hey, a few of us are going to grab a drink, you’re more than welcome to join us. it’s been a long day.” you smile politely at him and sigh. “thanks for the invite but i have to finish up this report for sal before his court date. next time though?” sammy finds himself smiling back at you. “don’t think i wont hold you to that.” he walks back to nate but turns back to you. “don’t work too late tonight.” you playfully roll your eyes. “goodnight detectives.” you say to nate and sammy as they walk past you out the door.

the next day you are already working when nate gets there. “did you sleep here last night?” you look up at him and smile. “morning, nate.” he’s walking towards you with an extra takeout coffee in his hands. “for you.” you beam at him. “thanks, you didn’t have to.” when you look back at him he looks a bit guilty. “what is it?” nate sighs. “i hate to even ask you this, but i had these big plans with mariella tonight but the sitter cancelled. there isn’t really anyone else responsible who she trusts, if you aren’t too busy tonight would you mind? it would just be for dinner and maybe a little dancing.” you give him a smile. “of course i can watch the kids, mariella deserves a break and a night out, even if you have to tag along with her.” nate squeezes your shoulder. “have i ever told you that you’re an angel.”

you were kind of excited and glad to have an excuse to leave the station on time today. grabbing your things you walk past nate and sammy, nate calls out, “6:30 sharp. don’t be late.” you laugh as you walk by. “yeah, yeah detective i’ll be there.” sammy watches you walk out the door before turning to nate with a questioning look as if to say what was that? “she’s babysitting tonight. sitter cancelled. i was desperate, you know…you could get home early and help her too, payback for all the nights you’ve been spending on my couch, the boys would probably love to be feral with uncle sammy without mom watching, wear them out for her and us. and then you can sleep on my couch, again.”

you knock on the door and are greeted by a big hug from mariella “i don’t think i will ever be able to thank you enough, nate somehow got a reservation at that new spot in town that i had my eye on and i almost cried when i thought we’d have to cancel.” you smile and hug her back. “seriously i would do it whenever you need, you know i don’t have much else going on.” she rocks you back and forth. “i am not complaining about that tonight but we really need to fix that pretty girl.” you laugh at her and pull away. “don’t you have a date to go on? get out of here!” she lets you go “well we should discuss a girls night later.” nate pulls her away from you. “we have to leave, let the poor girl go. you have our numbers, there’s money for pizza on the counter, we should be back before midnight.” you wave your hand shooing them out the door “take your time, don’t rush home for my sake.” mariella turns to you one last time. “there’s bottles ready to be heated in the fridge. oh! and sammy has been sleeping on our couch, let the boys chase him around to give you a break, they’ll sleep better for us. she winks and you laugh. “have fun, see you later.”

pizza just came and your plating some for the boys when you hear the sliding glass door open. you turn panicked to the door being open. sammy climbs into the house. “sorry, just me. they didn’t tell you i was coming?” you stand with your hand on your chest and the baby girl on your hip. “i mean they did tell me you might come by, they left out the part where the side door was unlocked for you.” sammy laughs at that. “dinner just got here do you want some?” you don’t wait for an answer just pull down another plate. he helps you bring the plates to the table and wrangles the two boys to sit and eat.

his eyes flick back over to you with the baby cooing on your hip and you chatting back to her as you warm a bottle up. he can’t help but imagine this life with you, a house that is decorated a little more your style and babies with red curls running around, he really has got to pull himself together though, the ink just dried on his divorce papers.

the two of you finally got the kids down after bathing them. and have taken a seat on the couch with the baby monitor on the coffee table. “oh my goodness does it take nate ten bedtime stories too?” sammy laughs at you. “no i think they just took some pushover babysitters for a ride, and we just let em” you lean your head back on the back of the couch. “no wonder mariella made nate pick me up a seven dollar cup of coffee this morning, she probably really needed the night off.” sammy looks at you in mock offence “he bought you a seven dollar coffee? he’s owed me lunch for like two years” that makes you giggle. “i must just be worth more to him.” before he can say anything back there is a cry coming from the baby monitor, your getting up from the couch. “uh oh, i’ll be right back.” walking back in with her resting on your shoulder you sit back down and hold the baby to your chest. “looks like little miss had some FOMO, fell right back asleep the second she was out of her crib.” you murmur so you don’t wake her. she snuggles further into you and sammy melts at the sight. that’s when he also notices your out of office outfit. navy oversized band tee, worn ripped jeans and red converse, you usually look beautiful at work all done up and following sal’s dress code, but this casual side sammy is seeing for the first time is doing something for him too. he runs a hand over the little girls head and looks at you with a smile. “you’re really good at this, i was a little offended when i heard they didn’t even consider me to babysit but now i can see why they wanted you to do it.” you give him a small smile. “don’t take it too personal, i was a nanny until i graduated college, before i got the job at the station. i come with specialty child first aid and lots of experience.” he smiles at you about to say something when the both of you hear a noise outside. you look at sammy with wide eyes and hold the little girl closer. he’s getting up off the couch. “stay here, dont move” hes heading towards the door to investigate. he peaks out the window. “oh geez, seriously?” hes walking back to you. “what is it?” he’s smiling and shaking his head. “they’re out there making out on the porch like high schoolers.” you give him an amused look. “good for them.” you both laugh.

nate finally unlocks the door and the two of them come inside mariella comes straight to you and grabs the baby. “did you have a good night?” you choose to ignore the comment you want to make at her lipstick smudged all over her and nate’s lips. “oh my gosh, the best. the food was so good you and i need to go back there, they had this margarita flight that you would love.” you nod. “ooh that sounds good. well it’s late, i should get home, get out of your hair you know all that good stuff, leftover pizza in the fridge and one more bottle for her.” nate cuts you off at the door. “how are you getting home? i know you took the bus up here, i can give you a ride. you shouldn’t be out alone this late.” you roll your eyes “wow dad, it’s fine i’m a big girl.” mariella shakes her head at you “he’s right. i won’t be able to sleep tonight if you get on that bus so late.” sammy pipes up. “i can take her home.” nate smiles and pats sammy on the back. “best case scenario. gets sammy out of the house too so i can finish this date off right-“ you cut nate off “oh my god yes please sammy drive me home, get me out of here, i have overstayed my welcome.” everyone laughs as sammy grabs his keys and leads you out to his vehicle”

“thanks for the ride, sorry i live so far away from where you were supposed to be sleeping by now, i just don’t really need a car in the city im close to everywhere i need to be” sammy looks over at you, and he has to ask. “would you ever move out to somewhere like castaic?” you think about it. “yeah i mean it’s so nice and quiet out there, if i had a family absolutely. but it’s not really in a gals budget, you know?” sammy nods. wondering how much the department screws you over pay wise.

sammy pulls in front of your building and parks “thanks again for the ride.” he’s still looking around, you know you don’t really live in the in the best part of town.. “nate’s right, you shouldn’t be out late around here.” you sigh “not you too. it’s a pretty secure building, and i usually am not out past eleven most nights if i can help it. my friends say it’s like they’re dropping me off at a prison when they watch the gates close behind me, i can show you right now, watch. you open the passenger door and unlock your buildings front gate, turn around to face him, making sure the gate slams shut behind you. he rolled down his widow when you got out. you grin and wave at him from behind the gate calling out. “have a good night sammy. thanks for dropping me off.” he smiles and shakes his head at you. “you have a good night too. see you at work.”

sammy puts his car in drive and heads back to nate’s making plans in his head to ask you out or something because he wants to spend all his time with you after just one rather uneventful night. he doesn’t know it but your back in your apartment daydreaming about a different ending of tonight, one where he came up with you. you just groan at your pathetic self and flop onto your bed.

#southland #sammy bryant #sammy bryant imagine #sammy bryant blurb #southland fanfic #sammy bryant x reader #sammy bryant x you #shawn hatosy

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chrkrose · 4 months ago

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Just wanted to say that I completely agreed with your Sunrise take. It's almost as though you plucked it out of my brain and put it in words.

Its a shame that the Maysilee/Haymitch ship has been struck down so explicitly. I can't see the ship being popular now without fans claiming that we've 'missed the whole point'.

I also agreed with your take about Lenore: to me, she's far too similar to Lucy Gray for me to care about her in her own right and that's a shame.

I'm interested to see if you have any other thoughts since I enjoyed your first post a lot.

More thoughts on SOTR, Maysilee and Maysilee/ Haymitch.

I mean… I have issues with several aspects of Sunrise on the Reaping (SOTR), honestly. Like, the way the book handles its themes is just so on the nose. It lacks the subtlety Suzanne used to have. One of the biggest appeals of the original trilogy was that Katniss wasn’t a chosen one—she wasn’t special, she wasn’t trying to be a rebel, she was just surviving. And now suddenly we’re rewriting that entire foundation to make her destiny feel preordained? Add in all the fan service, which felt so Marvel-level with its cameos and callbacks, and yeah… I struggled with a lot of it.

The Maysilee stuff—and the Maysilee/Haymitch potential—is just one example in a list of things that didn’t work for me, but it’s a great one to highlight what went wrong.

First off, my gripe with Maysilee and Haymitch isn’t even just that they weren’t romantic. Sure, I do think a romantic storyline would’ve added more depth and been more compelling, but what really bugs me is the way people jump to that “not every relationship needs to be romantic!!” discourse like it’s some mic drop moment. And like—yeah, of course not every bond has to be romantic. The series already gives us beautiful platonic relationships, so what are you truly saying here? I always feel like that argument has a bit of a misogynistic edge, like romance automatically weakens a story or a character. That it’s less serious or important just because it’s “girly” or emotional. It’s the reverse of the people who think romance is the only thing that matters—it’s still minimizing, just from another angle.

Personally, I think a romantic connection between Maysilee and Haymitch could have added a lot to the story. Not because romance is inherently better, but because it would’ve allowed us to actually see the relationship develop. Imagine Haymitch having to confront and dismantle his class prejudices toward her. Imagine the layers that would add to his trauma, to his choices, to the person he becomes. That arc would’ve felt way more grounded than suddenly introducing Lenore Dove—a character who feels like a Lucy Gray copy-paste—and expecting us to accept her as the Great Love of Haymitch’s life.

And look, I’m a sucker for a good love story. I would have eaten it up so fast if this was a good one. But it simply wasn’t. There was no tension, no buildup, no spark. Just symbolism on top of symbolism, and a girl who was written to be “quirky” and “different” and important, but never felt real. She was too mythical, too much, too “main girl who haunts the narrative” without earning that weight. At least Lucy Gray had quirks and nuance. Lenore just felt like Suzanne ticking boxes: rebel, covey, singer, poet attached to her name, dead too soon. And I’m sorry, but having Haymitch still pining for his 16-year-old girlfriend decades later, when we barely get to see him reflect on his family or his fellow tributes? At least give space to his mother and brother, to the tributes he bonded with, to all the people he lost along the way.

And that’s what really bothers me. Suzanne always trusted her readers to come to their own conclusions. She showed us dynamics—Katniss and Peeta, Finnick and Katniss, Johanna and Peeta, even Katniss and Gale—and let us interpret. She never had to spell out who these people were to each other. But it seems like she didn’t trust that when it comes to Maysilee and Haymitch, and to Lenore and Haymitch as well. Suddenly we were told what to feel, how to perceive every relationship. And that just doesn’t land for me. It actually undermines the emotional weight because it feels like she didn’t trust the story to stand on its own.

And if the whole idea was to subvert expectations and say “Surprise! Everything you thought you knew about Haymitch’s Games is actually propaganda,” then… I don’t know. That twist didn’t work for me either. It didn’t enhance the themes, it just made me feel, again, like I wasn’t capable enough to reach conclusions on my own. For a book who speaks of propaganda, she sure tried to determine how we would interact with it without room for anything else.

Now, about Maysilee herself—she would’ve worked so much better as the ghost in Haymitch’s narrative. Platonic or romantic, an ambiguous bond between her and Haymitch had more potential than what we got. The Capitol downplaying her role would’ve tied beautifully with Haymitch’s later manipulation of the Katniss/Peeta narrative. She mirrors both of them in ways Lenore doesn’t: she’s a merchant girl like Peeta, she’s got Katniss’ fire, and her pin—her pin—becomes the ultimate symbol of rebellion. She painted the final poster. Not to mention the quiet tragedy of him having to see her twin sister around town for the rest of his life. That’s the kind of subtle, haunting storytelling that would’ve worked.

But instead, they stripped all that from her to give it to Lenore, and in the process, even Katniss’ story gets hurt. Because now, Katniss isn’t just a girl who stumbled into something bigger than herself—now she’s been chosen since the beginning. Which removes one of the most powerful things about her arc: the idea that regular people, caught in the right place at the right time, can change the world.

Lucy Gray worked as a ghost in Snow’s story. Maysilee should’ve been that for Haymitch. But unfortunately, all that depth, all that symbolism, was handed to a character who didn’t earn it and who honestly just didn’t deliver the emotional payoff Suzanne thought she would.

#haymitch abernathy #maysilee donner #haymitch x maysilee #lenore dove #haymitch x lenore dove #sunrise on the reaping #sunrise on the reaping spoilers #sotr #sotr spoilers #thg sotr

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bxbyxngxl · 1 year ago

Text

You can call me Angel

I’m 24, bisexual, poly (partnered), she/her.

DNI if you’re under 18/ racist/ misogynistic/ don’t support queer/lgbt people

Don’t add captions to my posts, keep it in the tags unless you wanna be blocked

Anon asks are on but don’t be weird. Dms are open for now but if you’re gunna be weird I’m going to call you out and block you!! I don’t want to sext!!!! N I don’t want to see your dick!!!

If I spam u I’m adding to my queue <3

🎀 This is your tw for extreme kinks such as (but not limited to) cnc, knives, blood, piss🎀

If u buy me anything from my wishlist I’ll kiss you with tongue x

#pinned post #bxbyxngxl #literally no one look at me #🩷#sent to me

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syltheanti · 4 months ago

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DNI:

Proshippers/Darkshippers/Ex antis/anti-antis

Radqueers, pro-contact/neutral contact paraphiles.(Recovering/Recovered paraphiles can interact of course.)

Proship leaning neutrals/Neutrals in general.

Shotacons, lolicons, kodacons, nanacons, xipcons

Shooo

Groomers/Pedophiles

''Consensual abuse'' believers

If you think incest and rape are kinks

TERFS

Fujoshis + fundanshis

Pro-ana/eating disorder glamorizing blogs

Anti furries

Anti therians

Anti age regression + anti pet regression

Anti LGBTQ

Teacher crush community

TCC (True Crime Community, specifically those who glorify serial killers)

Lolita romanticizers

Xenosatanists

Kittycorn supporters

ABDL/Age play/DDLG/etc.

''SFW Kink'' believers

Vore and transfur/transformation fetishists

DragonSnow supporters

Melanie Martinez stans + supporters

Dream stans + supporters

Swifties (Referring to ...those Taylor Swift fans. The extreme ones. People who just like her music and all that are fine. I'm not trying to generalize any of you I promise ^^'')

Draikinator, Sagutoyas and/or EphemeralMoth supporters

Daddy's Little Toy + Tori Woods defenders (You're a creep. Plain and simple. Die in a hole)

Fat fetishists/feeding kink/variants/anything similar to that.

Cluster B Disorder Abuse believers/truthers

Transmedicalists/Transmeds/Transphobes in general

Radfems, Incels, general misandrists + misogynists

Yandere/IRL Yandere/etc. accounts.

Basic criteria.

Updated: June, 19th 2025

Took me long enough to repin this.

Still sticking to my beliefs. I will be hostile to boundary breakers

Just added a new anon to my list lol

Removed some shit

For anti proship flag edits, go to @your-fav-is-antidarkship

Problematic emoji combos to stay clear of if ya need it

Hi There! Welcome to the shitstorm I call my proship hating + vent + rant blog! Send in your rants, confessions, frustrations and gripes you may have with the proship + radqueer community through my inbox if ya want!

I made this blog with anti confessions in mind, even if that's not this blog's primary focus anymore, confessions and asks are welcome! ^w^

Anon list:

🐅🦊

🌟💫🪽

🌌☁️🪽

Toby 🪓🌲

😈💪

⏳⏳

🐾👑

🪽💤

🥀📴

🦆anon

🐍☘️

👑🍄

🪩🐆

🐸⭐

🖤🥀🔪

🕊️🪶

☢️🟩 anon

🪐☄️

🐺🌠

🍌🐟 anon

🧳

🟢(Chromakopia Anon)

🪼🪞

👽🎀

🍦🐀

😼

If you're chill with me, I'm chill with you. Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone. Don't start shit and there won't be any.

#Burnt Pastries #i love antis #anti proship #anti proshitter #anti darkship #anti profic #anti proshipper #anti lolicon #anti shotacon #fuck proshippers #fiction affects reality #proshippers dni #darkshippers dni #radqueers dni #proshitters dni #fuck proshitters #pinned post

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morphean42 · 6 months ago

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Falsettos unpopular opinions because two people asked for this and honestly I don’t give a fuck anymore. I want to state this isn’t in response to anyone in particular, though, and if you get offended by any of these think about why. For a good reason? Please tell me and I’d love to debate it, truly. For a petty reason? You’re simply part of the problem.

1. They are Jewish. End of story. If I see anything related to Christianity or Christmas or whatever the fuck with them… shut up. Yes Whizzer is half-Jewish, yes in the revival Cordelia isn’t Jewish (WHICH BRINGS ME TO ANOTHER POINT ILL GET INTO LATER), yes they are most likely secular as evidenced by Mendel’s “religions just a trap” and ‘Days Like This’, no this does not give you the right to ignore their ETHNICITY AND CULTURE.

2. It’s okay to like the revival more. It’s not okay to ignore the original just because you get blinded by conventionally attractive men. Going to my Cordelia point, she’s Jewish in the original, her line ‘Shiksa caterer’ is ‘Kosher caterer’. Again it’s fine if your headcanons and fanfics and fanarts are based on the revival, I love it too, but stop acting like it’s the only version.

3. Whizzer’s entire personality does not revolve around being gay. He’s not a sassy twink. He’s a full grown man with issues that need to be addressed. Again, I reiterate, he is not a twink. Stop. Drawing. Him. Skinny. And. Hairless. I don’t care if ‘ oh but but that’s just my art style!’ Shut up.

4. Correlated to the above point, here are things Whizzer is not: a prostitute, a drug addict, relying on Marvin for everything, a twink (saying that again to get it through peoples fucking skulls), innocent. I’m 100% positive if the people who had these headcanons watched the OBC version of the show they’d never continue to advocate for them… once more I’m begging you guys to look past Andy Randy’s beautiful face and actually use critical thinking skills when it comes to Whizzer.

5. Short but (not) sweet: don’t claim to understand Marvin if you haven’t watched In Trousers. Just don’t.

6. If you flat out hate any character in the show, you’re wrong. Yes I’m still mad about the Mendel thing; if you think any one character is worse than the rest and isn’t just a fully human person with flaws and nuance, you don’t understand the musical as well as you claim.

7. It’s not the ‘gay’ musical. If you like falsettos for Whizzvin and nothing else, please, just… I don’t even know. There’s so much more to it than ‘ooo boys kissing.’ Please grow up, this leads into a whole other point but fetishisation is never okay, no matter who does it.

8. So many people treat Trina as either a perfect angel or just the side character in the way of the gay people. She’s an entire person, an entire character with flaws and hardship and terrible actions done by her and to her. Treat my homophobic queen with the respect she deserves, and acknowledge her faults too. It’s more misogynistic to treat her as perfect when she has issues too than just saying ‘she’s never done anything wrong’.

9. Stop making AIDS jokes.

10. This next one is probably the most iffy on the list. I will never be one to police fandom and creation, you can engage with material in any fucking way you like it literally doesn’t matter to me… but I dislike AUs. Now, I’ll always enjoy a little fun, adding in a twist like lesbian Whizzvin, or enjoying a feel good college AU. But. Especially for Falsettos the canon events are so fucking important and cannot be disregarded as casually as some do. AIDS is an extremely important part of the story, as well as the fact that both Marvin and Whizzer are men. I’m trans myself, but I dislike making them so simply because everything about their characters, all the characters, are so highly specific and important to take these aspects away is to disrespect the message of the musical.

11. It’s very important Mendel is straight. I see some people headcanon him as bisexual or trans or so on, and this just feels so wrong to me. Trina and Mendel are straight and that’s why their acceptance and love for the others in the Tight Knit Family is so important, especially Trina struggles with moving away from the idea that these ‘homosexual tendencies’ are wrong. They are straight but they love Whizzvin and the lesbians just as much as anyone else.

12. This one is so petty and I accept that, but… HIS NAME IS NOT MARVIN GARDENS. GARDEN IS A JOKE CHRISTIAN BORLE MADE BASED ON MONOPOLY. Jesus guys please just stop it it’s so stupid, William Finn didn’t have a last name for Marvin on purpose, and though I can’t do more than theorise what that purpose was, Gardens is so stupid. It’s not even funny. Same goes for Cohen, which just is odd. The only name I could begin to accept is Falsetto, and even then… just work around the last name in your fics.

12 1/2. SIDE TANGENT Jason would never take Weisenbachfeld as his last name. As a child of divorce… no. He’ll never view Mendel as a true father over his own dad, especially after Falsettoland, and he wouldn’t take that name. Hell, I’d known my ex step-father since I was two and I’d never have taken his last name. So, please, I never want to see Jason Weisenbachfeld again. That’s just not how it works.

At the end of the day this is just me alone in my room bitching… I just hope these points resonate with others.

#falsettos #falsettos opinions #don’t like this? just scroll and move on with your life #I’m tired of seeing these points #marvin falsettos #the marvin trilogy #whizzer brown #whizzer falsettos #jason falsettos #trina falsettos #mendel falsettos #mendel weisenbachfeld #Charlotte falsettos #Cordelia falsettos

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noihavenosanitythanksforasking · 6 months ago

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A masterpost of all mileven nicknames

as im sure you know its a common practice to call toxic mileven shippers a variety of nicknames that start with m or sound sorta like the ship name. so im making a list of ones ive seen.

this post will be updated! if you have one i havent listed rb or comment it so i can added it!

this is all in good fun, i do have respect for milevens just not the toxic ones 💛💙

the classics:

milkvans

milkshakes

melvins

mesopotamians

Moleven

Mokeven

Nileven

malnutritioned fallopian tubes

munbuns

multidimensional miscommunication

mitochondria

munchman

milkman

migraine

medieval

malnourished centipedes

millipede

milkdud

millet

Mycoplasma

metastasis

mitosis

mark levis

moldy lettuce

metaphysical monstrosity

misogynists

microfossil

maladaptive moping

macaroni and cheese

Malarkey

milkchicken

malaria

moldy vent

spoiled macaroni salad

monster truck

#byler #stranger things #anti mileven #anti milkvan

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pobummie · 9 months ago

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TIER LIST OF INSANE TAKES I'VE SEEN SO FAR ABOUT SILENT HILL 2 AND JAMES

1... Silent Hill 2 has no plot.

Yes... Someone really had the balls to say with their whole chest that sh2 has no plot at all. On the first one because it's clearly INSANE to say that this game has nothing to give at all.

2... What James did was a femicide.

When I saw this one all I could do was stare at my phone with the most confused expression EVER. James didn't kill Mary because she was a woman?!?! It has nothing to do with her gender. Did you even play the game at all? (Saw this one on TikTok so I wasn't surprised.)

3... James is a misogynist and ableist.

An argument I had on Tumblr and made a post about it. Their argument was basically, he was a misogynist because the manifestations were "oversexualized women" and it was weird af that we had to beat them to death with a pipe. They added that those manifestations are how James views women.

4... James graped his wife.

It's on the forth place because this one has been around forever. They basically use the scene of Pyramid Head in the og sh2 to justify this even tho that's not what the scene meant at all and it was a misunderstanding. Not much to say.

5... James didn't love Mary.

Not as insane as the others but still shocking. Do people really think he didn't love Mary at all? He wouldn't be in Silent Hill in the first place... Why go through all that to look for his wife that he knows is dead?? James' said "I hate you" and people ran with it. In that same scene Mary asks "If that's true, then why do you look so sad?" Media literacy where?...

|| @concord-a ||

#all I can do now is sigh #why are people like this #silent hill 2 #silent hill 2 remake #sh2 #sh2 james #james sunderland

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honeyvettel5 · 2 months ago

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peck/alex #43: fake dating!!!

43. fake dating | pecco/alex; crack treated seriously, bisexual disaster pecco bagnaia, set in 2025. [1/?]; [900 words]

(from this prompt list here)

it’s not really pecco’s fault if people keep misinterpreting his words. he’s not trying to be difficult; it’s just that things come out wrong sometimes, especially first thing thursday morning, still half-asleep and halfway through his espresso, when he discovers he’s been unceremoniously added to a whatsapp group called '5B reunion'. it takes him a second to clock it—5B, as in his old high school class from the liceo scientifico. apparently, after nearly a decade, his former classmates have decided to organize a reunion. a dinner, no less; and a proper one, booked at a sleek overpriced restaurant in the center of turin. pecco scrolls through the chat, watching a steady stream of enthusiastic messages roll in like a tsunami. people are confirming left and right; some still live nearby, others are flying in just for the night. the group seems disturbingly united in their excitement. he hovers over his keyboard, unsure. high school hadn’t exactly been a highlight for him. more like a long, awkward phase where he mostly kept his head down, stayed in his shell, and avoided eye contact. making actual friends had seemed wildly ambitious, back then. before he can figure out what, if anything, to reply, laura swoops in with another message: ‘bring your girlfriends if you’d like! and boyfriends of course 😊’ pecco reads the message twice, then frowns. it’s well-meaning, sure. very inclusive. but he thought this was supposed to be about them bonding over mutual academic trauma, not speed-dating over tiramisu. he just— doesn’t see the point. that’s when things begin to go downhill.

pecco sees the name of alessandro popping up to the left corner of his screen, and his jaw tightens instinctively, some old, well-worn irritation curling at the edge. he and alessandro were never exactly friends—not enemies either, but always stuck in that tense, unspoken rivalry that happens when one person walks around like you owe them. alessandro had that effortless, inherited arrogance that money tends to manufacture—the kind that comes from being the only son of turin’s most successful car dealership family, and knowing it. in the message, he tags pecco directly, with the forced breeziness of someone who thinks they’re being funny: ‘@peccobagnaia so now we can finally meet pecchino’s woman, then 😏.’ it’s childish, and slightly misogynistic. pecco remembers, suddenly and very clearly, why he never liked the guy. and maybe it’s just that special brand of teenage resentment that has never quite dissolved, still tucked somewhere under his skin like an old bruise. or maybe it’s just the sharp thrill of pissing people off—alessandro in particular—enough to feel momentarily alive. either way, pecco doesn’t think for long. he types quickly: ‘actually im bisexual,’ and leaves at that.

the group goes dead for five full minutes after it—just pure, uninterrupted, blissful silence. pecco isn’t embarrassed. if anything, he feels startlingly clear. he’s spent enough time wading through that thick, familiar swamp of shame and forced normalcy to know better than to guilt-trip himself over one semi-accidental, typo-ridden message. it’s all still fairly new, of course—the liking-boys part. not the knowing, necessarily. that had arrived one night, quiet and strange, with him leaning against the wall of some club in barcelona watching a tall, blonde guy laugh into his drink with a little too much focus to be casual. and luca—sharp-eyed, maddeningly perceptive luca—had leaned into his space, looked at him looking at the guy, and said, tone casual, ‘you know you can like both, right?’ pecco had turned his head like an owl, stunned. he had blinked against luca’s easy smile, and nodded, slowly, like something was clicking into place. since then, the world has tilted just slightly on its axis. things make more sense now; feel lighter, a little less tangled. and to his surprise, pecco doesn’t hate it.

his phone buzzes again against the table. eventually, laura has replied, ever gracious. ‘well, we can’t wait to meet your boyfriend then!’ she’s bolded the word boyfriend like something to get excited about. pecco stares at the screen; he didn’t say he had a boyfriend; he didn’t even imply it. all he said—all he said—was that he’s bisexual. and now, evidently, he’s been assigned a whole relationship he doesn’t even have. pecco puts the phone down, face-first, and lets his head fall back against the chair. this was supposed to be simple. show up, maybe have a drink, prove to himself he could walk back into that part of his life and not flinch. but now? now there’s a spotlight on him, and a vacant boyfriend-shaped silhouette where a person is supposed to be. he presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, resisting the urge to spiral into a full-blown pit of endless self-loathing. he thinks about jerez coming up, how he still needs to find his passport he painfully negotiated back from carola after he’d insisted that he was a grown adult capable of keeping track of his own documents. he needs to fold his team gear, pack his underwear. there’s a whole race weekend ahead; one thing, at least, he knows how to do.

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