#and yeah! That’s mean. HOWEVER it is not fucking harassment or the same as “fuck this LGBT shit”

[velvetvexations]

I'm a trans woman, this is all misogynistic and here's why.

The fact that there's so many other trans men who'd rather completely accept that bioessentialist role of hapless victim, incorporate it into their daily lives and identity as men, then twist it into a weapon against trans women is fucking disgusting- and I don't know if it makes me more sad or angry that so many of them somehow don't seem to realize that's what they're doing,

First of all, who's doing that? Who's saying anything like that? Are they maybe just...explaining they have experience with misogyny in the face of people denying that's a thing they face or have even EVER faced? Because that's the only thing like that I see around here on Tumblr dot com so I'm going to need like, citations.

particularly the slew of literal teenagers who have decided their hill to die on is attacking trans women for talking about their experiences on their own blogs.

The average involved in this kinna discourse is late 20s-early 30s but people keep accusing trans men of being a bunch of teenagers in defiance of plain fact. The few "teenagers" I've seen around are 19, which, you know, is still on their second year of being a legal adult and shouldn't be infantilized. This is coming kinna dangerously close to misogyny in and of itself.

Well, duh- I was a bitter asshole at 13,

Yeah, okay, I was being generous with the assumption maybe you were talking about nineteen year olds, this is just fully not aligned with reality.

I got to grow up, realize I'm a man, and escape that cycle- no, I don't pass, but I put a male name and my personality disorder in my bio, and most people either don't care, or block me and vague about narcissists getting too comfortable. Either way, I don't have to deal with them. Trans women do not get that privilege- every move they make is scrutinized, and sooner or later, someone will find something they can interpret as being just a bit too haughty

Good for you, other trans men report being regularly harassed by people who're fully aware they're trans men specifically for being trans men. Persnaps your experience isn't universal?

and crack down on her with all the righteous fury of a Texan calling the police on someone for being topless inside their own home. Yes, that's a crime here, if you have a window in the front of your house. I mean, what if there's a child walking by with binoculars? Obviously, we can't have children knowing bare breasts exist, then they might think having a body isn't a sin.

This is just a weird tangent to go on in the same paragraph you're making the point trans women are uniquely despised among all other trans people, because this affects everyone with breasts?

if you can't accept that trans women are women, and are thus affected by misogyny,

[citation for people saying this who aren't literally just TERFs really really needed]

Being viewed as a cis woman by someone looking to hurt me is, incredibly fucking obviously, not the same as being viewed as a trans woman, an inherent threat to the patriarchy. After all, if their "manhoods" don't make them men, however will cis men justify their own identities, their inherent superiority?

I mean if you're literally viewed as a cis woman in the sense that they don't know you're trans at all, sure, this tracks.

Obviously, a trans woman must be inherently broken, and disposed of or used up before she can threaten the status quo with her existence. Me? Well, I'm harmless- women are hysterical and delusional inherently, after all, and this one is proud of being delusional! Nobody will listen to her if she says she's a man, except for other delusional little floozies, and so long as our wombs are intact, we still serve our purpose, regardless of what we say we are.

Siiiiiigh.

So here's the issue, OP. Trans men are not dismissed as 'harmless.' They are attacked and beaten and sexually assaulted and murdered for asserting their transmasculinity, just the same as trans women are. Your experiences vanishing into girlhood are not the experiences of everyone else, usually an encounter with a transphobe who thinks they're in some way delusional ends in violence.

And it seems like you know that, because you admitted to pretending to be a cis girl to not come out to a cop. Why would you do that? To escape him being a little condescending about you being a "delusional little floozie"? Or because he might actually enact real violence on you? I can't reconcile "I pretend to be a cis girl to cops" with "trans men just get talked down to." Do you think it simply happens less to trans men? Clearly not so much less that you don't feel the need to throw on a disguise you hate.

It sounds like you have some really weird hang-ups about what defines womanhood, even if you think you don't. Your insistence that perceived womanhood is a get out of violence free card tells me you've fully bought into the perspective that people AFAB are seen as pure little princesses to be coddled and protected, which is not even accurate to cis women. The patriarchy is an engine of violence, not a gilded cage for women. Even if you don't think that's how things should be, the fact you think that's how the patriarchy works, in practice, is a humiliating L for you. You believed the TERFs and Christofascists? You took their word for it? Wow. That's really embarrassing, buddy.

Merry Christmas.

I'm a pre-T trans man. I have been a victim of misogyny, because I was, y'know, seen as a woman for the first sixteen years of my life, and still have to deal with some of its forms every so often- toxic masculinity is a byproduct of misogyny, after all.

Now I'm mostly seen as a man by people I interact with- I still present as a woman when leaving the house for safety reasons, but I can always bank on the stupid little christian girl disguise getting me out of trouble if, say, someone takes issue with something I say and throws a fit. I have an out- it requires reinforcing misogyny, sure, but if it's that or coming out to a cop, I know which one I'm taking, and that's damn near the only situation I'm pulling it out for, because I hate that mask- it's what was forced on me most of my life, after all.

The fact that there's so many other trans men who'd rather completely accept that bioessentialist role of hapless victim, incorporate it into their daily lives and identity as men, then twist it into a weapon against trans women is fucking disgusting- and I don't know if it makes me more sad or angry that so many of them somehow don't seem to realize that's what they're doing, particularly the slew of literal teenagers who have decided their hill to die on is attacking trans women for talking about their experiences on their own blogs.

Are a lot of them bitter and mean? Well, duh- I was a bitter asshole at 13, when everyone I knew was constantly making cracks at me not being a real person, just a narcissist, a robot, dozens of other names hurled at me simply for existing, but mostly people just thought I was a bitch who didn't know her place. Turns out when a bunch of teenagers are yelling at you for existing, you probably don't feel like being very nice to them- I held my head up, learned to enjoy my own company, and contented myself with being smarter than them.

I got to grow up, realize I'm a man, and escape that cycle- no, I don't pass, but I put a male name and my personality disorder in my bio, and most people either don't care, or block me and vague about narcissists getting too comfortable. Either way, I don't have to deal with them.

Trans women do not get that privilege- every move they make is scrutinized, and sooner or later, someone will find something they can interpret as being just a bit too haughty and crack down on her with all the righteous fury of a Texan calling the police on someone for being topless inside their own home. Yes, that's a crime here, if you have a window in the front of your house. I mean, what if there's a child walking by with binoculars? Obviously, we can't have children knowing bare breasts exist, then they might think having a body isn't a sin.

You can be a man and not be a misogynist- but if you can't accept that trans women are women, and are thus affected by misogyny, you will never succeed in breaking the cycle- all you'll do is reinforce it.

Ignorance is only bliss for the ones with their eyes closed- and trans women and other transfeminine folks have been the ones thrown under the bus time and time again for far too long.

[armoralor]

my favourite irony of the current shipping discussion is the folks who allege WolfWren enjoyers sent “threats” to people who enjoy cishet ships (I have asked for ANY examples or usernames of anyone doing this multiple times), have also been calling for Filoni to suffer & die if he doesn’t make their ship canon. but don’t forget, it’s definitely the sapphics and queers who like WolfWren that are the problem

[heartlesscorpse]

Ghostface HCs ⋆｡°✩👻🔪

Wahoo, more Ghostfaceeee. Ghostface brainrot be really taking over tho gadayum, Danny gonna drill a hole into my fucking brain; unlike Pyramid Head as he pretty much made a crater. Smh, I’m rambling too much and Imma move on from that now — yeah slightly busy week but pushing through in the mean time and having Ghostface for some fuckin’ motivation. Some nsfw shit will be mentioned so MDNI and possibly some gore but nonetheless, this’ll be a fun one boys. ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

OKAY getting this shit out of the way first but Slipknot do be hitting hard for me atm and I gotta say it’s either Vermilion or Prosthetics that give me massive brainrot and Ghostface vibes.

It’s a possibility I might even write a mini fic based off of Prosthetics ngl, now there’s a fuckin’ thought.

It’s either some dumbass banter or flirting between you and Ghostface, never an in between. Most of the time 90% of whatever flirtatious remarks comes out of Danny’s mouth is a joke, but at the same time he’s also not fuckin’ kidding.

“Baby what that tongue do?” “Lick my fingers. To turn the pages of the Bible for sinners like you.”

Get ready for some nightly fucking shenanigans because Ghostface is going to drop in when you least expect it.

Despite being the flirtatious bastard he is, Danny can get clingy at times.

Like this man could demand cuddles and if you refuse he will just tie you up and have his cuddles anyways because he doesn’t give a shit if you say no. He does what he wants anyways.

He’ll have you lying there tied up and helpless on your bed, listening to whatever fuckin’ rants he’s going on about, probably something about his night or maybe shit talking about another resident in Roseville he plans to kill in some few days. ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

By the time he’s leaving he might’ve took something small of yours for keeping, not like you were gonna notice much of a difference anyways. And you’re definitely not gonna get it back.

Besides stalking his chosen targets for his next kill, Ghostface still keeps his tabs on you whenever he doesn’t happen to show up inside your home or phone in. Either he’d take some photos on random occasions while you’re in public, keeping lost items of yours, might’ve ended up building a small shrine out of that shit ngl.

It’s almost hilarious but at the same time it isn’t, because Ghostface swore to himself he would never build some sort of attachment towards his victims or anybody in general but then you came along and somehow changed that shit. 💀💀

Might’ve found out your text tbh so he could annoy you for endless hours during the day when he’s not around and playing himself as Jed and working at the Gazette.

Did I forget to mention how possessive he is??? Man’s honestly lucky to have some restraint and composure seeing some other people talking to you and breathing the same fuckin’ air otherwise he would’ve killed them already by the next night, this shit don’t apply to that drunkard who was harassing you the one Saturday night you went out to the bar with friends though. That shit was justified in his opinion.

There’s either two reasons and two reasons only why Ghostface would’ve made a drop inside your house, either this man is wanting attention from you and to talk, or this mfer is horny as shit. There’s no in-between.

Dude’s into kinky shit you name it, stuff like: bondage, blood play, knife play, things like that. Blood play might’ve been off the table for the first half however he might’ve brought it up some time around when you got comfy enough where you weren’t constantly having to get into some cat fight with the guy.

Might I add, the first time he met you and he was picking you off as one of his victims he got a fuckin’ hard-on from your fear and seeing the bit of blood smeared on your arms or cheeks while you were fighting for your life.

Mirror sex, semi-public sex, a quickie, phone sex, dude’s up for some small bit of risks and that mainly goes with semi-public ofc because he finds it fun and adds more spice to the situation.

He’s still paying close in mind wherever he does it so he himself isn’t getting caught in that position with you and shit would somehow escalate. He doesn’t do it often a lot but maybe to some rare occasion or something like that.

He likes hearing you beg and looking like an absolute flustered mess under him. 😌

Rough sex is also a big yes, he doesn’t do it gentle much but it might’ve happened in some rare chances even if you didn’t ask for it.

Mask stays on babes he’s not taking it off during sex.

He’s also pushing you to overstimulation because he can and will, and he takes fuckin’ joy out of it >:))

Gets a small power trip out of it too, knowing he’s the one driving you insane this way and making you plead for his cock.

Shhh that’s just his way of showing how much he loves you.

He’s pretty good with aftercare, cuddles in bed afterwards and a short nap in the mean time before morning where he’ll have to bounce by then and get to work.

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Thanksgiving, idiots in love, and unwelcome encounters in the parking lot.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Content Warning! This chapter contains sexual harassment (grabbing at clothes, derogatory name calling).

Thank you so much @hellfire--cult for the adorable Converse divider🥹

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Part 6

Thanksgiving Day, 1983

Eddie had a lot of things to worry about today, but right now he was most worried about whether or not the mac & cheese he’d slaved over all morning would taste like shit. 

His sweaty hands clutched the dish towel-wrapped baking dish for dear life and mentally rolled through all of the ingredients he had read on that clipping from the Southern Living magazine he’d grabbed from the grocery store. It wasn’t as if he’d never cooked before- he could make a mean grilled cheese, and if something came in a box he hadn’t found a way to fuck it up yet. This time, however, he’d been a little out of his element. 

Wayne had been excited to finally have a use for the casserole dish that had been sitting in a cabinet unused for so long that Eddie hadn’t even known it existed. Currently, he sat relaxed in the drivers’ seat of his pickup smiling smug as hell even though Eddie had assured him multiple times that he was not about to meet Eddie’s girlfriend… just a friend. 

No matter how much Eddie tried to hammer that point into Wayne’s skull, however, he still smiled that stupid knowing grin every time your name came up in conversation, as if he knew something Eddie didn’t. 

“You seem nervous.” Wayne commented, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead as he lazily turned the truck into your neighborhood. 

Eddie glared at the tin foil topped dish in his lap. “Well, I’ve never made this recipe before, I keep picturing everyone taking a bite and immediately spitting it into their napkins.”

Wayne snorted, shaking his head softly and guiding the steering wheel with one hand. “Son, it’s pasta and cheese. Pretty hard to mess that up too bad.” 

“Yeah, well…” Eddie harrumphed. “I’m sure I found a way somehow.”

Wayne smiled softly at his nephew’s smitten nerves, parking the pickup with a jerky stop at the curb of your house. “505, right? This is the one?”

“Yeah.” 

Watching smugly as Eddie stared out the window at your house, Wayne waited about four seconds before he asked, “Are you gonna get out of the car today, or…?”

Cue the sound of the car door opening and Eddie grumbling a sassy muttered retort of I’m going old man, calm down, or something along those lines. Wayne pretended not to catch it. 

You opened the door before Wayne and Eddie could even get to the door, and when Eddie’s eyes landed on you? His uncle could just tell. The smile that exploded on his nephew’s face was all it took.

“Oh here, let me take that-”

“No, no, it’s fine Ace, I got it.” Eddie reassured you, swooping the casserole dish away from your eager hands. He nodded in Wayne’s direction, directing you to do the same as he introduced the only family member of his that you’d heard of at all in your time as friends. “This is my Uncle Wayne.” 

Your eyes shone, welcoming and warm, and Wayne understood in an instant how you’d had such an effect on Eddie in less than a year. Since he’d started spending time with you, Eddie Munson had become the kind of young man who did his homework without being asked. He’d even gotten a job at the mall of all places and gave a portion of his earnings to his uncle to help with living expenses. 

None of the things Wayne had always loved about Eddie had gone away- the changes he’d seen in his nephew were all additions to a personality that he’d always known would take him far in life if he could just surround himself with those who brought out the best in him. People who saw that spark of Munson Magic and knew how to fan it.

Wayne could now confirm that you were one of those people.

He took your hand in his weathered and wrinkled one, pouring his approval of you into a firm and fatherly handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young lady.” He gestured to Eddie with a conspiratorial nod. “Nice to put a face to the name, all he does is talk about you.”

“Brrrrr, it’s cold out here!” Eddie interrupted his uncle with a hand on your back to steer you away from Wayne and into the house. “Are you cold? You look cold, we don’t need to stand out here yapping when you’re cold.” 

You smiled, following Eddie’s lead but tossing a look over your shoulder at Wayne like it was a shared secret. 

Eddie had already met your parents, so greetings were warm and familiar once the three of you had reached the foyer. Wayne was introduced to both your mom and dad before your mom noticed Eddie had brought an offering for the table.

“Edward Munson, if I’m about to find out you’re not only a shoe designer but also a cook, I might just have to extend a standing invitation for all future holidays!”

“Shoe designer?” Wayne raised an eyebrow. 

You chuckled, pointing your foot out for him to see your white (now turned a bit duller from wearing them every day) Chuck Taylors, completely covered in idle drawings from Eddie’s inability to sit still. 

Wayne gawked at the artwork on your shoes; he’d always known that Eddie was talented, but this was the first time in a long time that Wayne had really stopped and looked at his nephew’s art. The detail, the use of space and composition- it was clear that Eddie knew not only how to draw, but he had an eye for how to make his art look like it belonged on its canvas. Even otherworldly monsters- sea creatures, dragons, demonic ghouls and ghostly images- looked at home on your well-loved high tops. 

“You drew all this, Ed?”

Eddie smiled shyly, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Ah, they’re just doodles. This one over here figured out I pay better attention in class when I’m doing something with my hands. Helps me listen better.” Finally, his trademark grin reappeared, shyness replaced with snark. “Now I’m the one helping her in class.”

“All the times I’ve had to kick you so you don’t fall asleep in O’Donnell’s beg to differ.” You replied, rolling your eyes at him. This brought a good-natured ripple of laughter from everyone in the room. You all felt it- the ease with which familiarity settled in the air amongst you. Eddie felt it most of all, since he wasn’t quite accustomed to the particular familial feel of it. 

He might have been, once. But it’s been a while. 

A second later and your mom had whisked Eddie into the kitchen to set his dish down on a trivet and sent him into the living room with a steaming cup of wassail in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other.

“There was enough food in there to feed an army,” Eddie said, bemused as he sat down next to you on the couch. “Does she know there are only five of us?” 

You toed off your shoes and let them fall to the ground before crossing your legs up on the green ottoman, fuzzied soft with wear from years of love. You leaned closer to Eddie, eyes fixed on his plate of goodies as you began to pick pieces of fruit and cheese for yourself. 

“Mom grew up with a big family,” you said, popping a juicy red grape into your mouth. “All the family recipes make enough for six at least. She could probably cut the recipes in half… but I think cooking all this food reminds her of home.” you smiled tenderly and shrugged. “We usually freeze the leftovers, but since you and your uncle are here I doubt we’ll even have to open a freezer bag. We’ll just send leftovers home with you!”

Eddie liked the sound of that. 

An hour or so passed before you all sat down to share your meal, and Eddie was amazed how quickly his nerves had dissipated in that time. The two of you sat cozied up on the couch, munching on fruit, cheese and deviled eggs. Your dad had offered Wayne a beer, and the two of them sat watching football in front of the TV until your mom gave the all-call for dinner. 

Everyone loaded up their plates, remarked on how good the food looked, thanked your mom for all of the hard work that went into today’s meal. This was quickly followed by a pointed thank you from your mother to Eddie for the “best mac ‘n cheese I’ve ever had” according to her. He was pretty sure she was just being nice, but he didn’t care. Her smile was still contagious- one of those ‘I love you no matter what’ mom smiles.

He’d forgotten about those.

He’d also forgotten what it was like to sit at a dining room table with more than three people. For a second, he’d been worried that you were all about to hold hands and pray, which wouldn’t have been ideal since all Eddie could remember about the dinner prayer was “bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts,” and he didn’t want to embarrass himself. 

But there wasn’t a prayer. This wasn’t a test he’d forgotten to study for, just a meal where Mom and Dad and Uncle were all happy he was here, happy each other were here. That was new. And when your dad asked Eddie how school was going, for once he had nothing but good things to report. He’d gotten a 95 on his last English test. For the first time since sophomore year, he wasn’t failing a single class. And when your dad said “Glad to hear you’re doing well, son.” Eddie felt you squeeze his thigh lightly, just above his knee. He saw Wayne smiling proudly out of the corner of his eye.

Eddie could get used to this. 

Conversation flowed easily in your family; no one felt the need to talk about the weather or ask arbitrary questions, and thankfully nobody decided that “we should go around the table and all say something we’re thankful for!”. There wasn’t a need for it. None of you needed to say it out loud to know you were all thankful for each other. For this. 

By the time dessert came around, Eddie started to think he might be dreaming. Apparently, you were the one always in charge of dessert in your household. And while he’d grown very acquainted with your chocolate chip cookies, he hadn’t been adequately prepared for your pecan pie. Or your chocolate & peanut butter sheet cake. Or the chocolate pudding/cool whip/cookie crumb whatever-it-was that you’d spooned onto his dessert plate. 

Could a person become delirious after consuming too much sugar? Eddie wasn’t sure if it was sugar that was causing him to start wondering what you’d look like making all these desserts in a kitchen that you both paid rent for, or if that was just him. It was probably the sugar.

As soon as Eddie was shoveling his last bite into his mouth, he was looking over to see if you had any left for him to mooch off of you. Your plate was empty- scraped clean, even- and then you were grabbing his empty plate and standing to take them into the kitchen. Eddie was about to pout when you looked at him knowingly and asked, “You want seconds? I’m getting seconds.”

It wasn’t the sugar. Eddie wanted to know what your signatures looked like together on a lease. And Eddie couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to finally admit to himself that he’d been nursing a crush on you since… when had it started? Eddie wasn’t sure. Somewhere between seventh grade history class and this very moment, he figured. 

He looked up at you from his seat, mouth still stuffed with pie crust and cool whip, and smiled when he noticed how pretty you looked in that sweater you were wearing. It was red- you wore red a lot, he realized. Had you always worn red this often?

You giggled, poking his cheek. “You look like a chipmunk when you smile like that.” 

His eyes followed you as you disappeared into the kitchen, and when Eddie caught a glimpse of the way Wayne was grinning at him? Well, his blush was a deeper shade of scarlet than your sweater.

The smile stayed, though. Even a punch to the jaw couldn’t knock that off Eddie’s face.

“I wanna take you out.” 

It had taken Eddie what felt like ages to finally ask you. You were both at school, and he had been thinking about it and thinking about it and ramping himself for weeks to just grow a pair and ask you. The question had sounded smoother in his head, but now he thought he sounded vaguely frightening- sharper and more desperate than he’d hoped.

You blanched, eyes wide and mouth open to a little “O” shape that made Eddie’s heart flutter. 

You were so cute. How had he ever ignored it?

You grinned a little, “Take me out like… assassination, take me out, or…?” 

“No,” Eddie shook his head, laughing nervously, “I mean like, out. To a place. Or multiple places, if you want.” He was jumpy, his hands switching from his pockets to the strap of his backpack, to his hair, to the fraying edges of the friendship bracelet you’d tied around his wrist in July. 

“So when you say take me out, you mean like… on a date?”

There it was. You’d said it, that word. Date. It was out in the open now. 

You’d put the ball in Eddie’s court, and he should be happy about it. This was how it was supposed to be, right? He needed to be a man, take control, take the lead. But unfortunately, it had taken the majority of his bravery just to initiate this conversation.

“Do you want it to be a date?”

Just like that, he passed the ball to you. Eddie cursed himself, waiting anxiously for your response, completely at your mercy.

You looked down at your shoes covered in his doodles, at the red plaid of your flannel that you wore because you’d bought it in hopes that if he started to associate you with his favorite color, he might like you more. Like you the way you liked him.

You couldn’t say the words either… couldn’t speak them into existence without fear of sounding too desperate, too eager. So instead, you nodded yes to your doodle covered shoes and smiled at the dragon he’d drawn on the left toe.

Eddie beamed- inwardly, of course. Couldn’t let you see exactly how happy he was that you felt the same as him- he needed to be calm, to be cool. Girls liked calm and cool.

 “Then it’s a date, Sweet Tart.” He ached to sling a triumphant arm over your shoulder, but shoved his sweating hands into his pockets instead. 

You snuck a glance at Eddie, your smile refusing to leave no matter how cool you were trying to appear. Be cool, don’t act too desperate, you chided yourself. 

“It’s a date.” you repeated, beaming up at him. “When were you thinking?”

“Well,” Eddie shrugged as you both came to a stop by your locker. “Finals are next week and then we’re off for Christmas break, so I should be able to pencil you in for next Saturday night.” He leaned against the adjacent lockers, a smug smile shining down on you. 

“Pencil me in, huh?” you giggled, replacing the notebooks and folders from your last class with your supplies for the next. “I’m flattered you could fit me into your busy schedule.”

“If there’s one thing my schedule always has room for, it’s you, Ace.” 

Swooning. That was the only word for what those words made you do. You weren’t sure if Eddie was aware of the effect he had on you, but you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to help it if he was. 

You were actually grateful for your final exams the following week- they gave you something to focus on other than your date with Eddie. Which meant that the moment you’d finished your last exam on Friday, that date was the only thing on your mind.

Your date with Eddie. The words alone were enough to make you smile to yourself. You’d been harboring this crush on him for the better part of this year, and now he asks you on a date? Was it possible that he had felt the same way all this time? 

“You sure you’re cool if I don’t stay for the whole session tonight?” you’d asked Eddie as he’d prepared for Hellfire that afternoon, triple-checking that he wasn’t upset. It had become a routine for the two of you- your weekly presence as the one and only audience member for Hellfire’s in-game escapades. 

“Cool as a cucumber, Ace.” Eddie had replied, “You took three exams today, for crying out loud. Go take a nap.” 

When you finally conceded, he’d walked you from the gameplay table to the door, even going so far as to hold it open for you. Then, to your surprise, he’d taken your hand in his and brought it to his lips. 

“Go rest up.” He’d muttered, low enough so only you could hear. Then he’d brushed his lips against the back of your fingers, and you’d just about melted on the spot. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 8, Sweet Tart.”

Your hand still tingled as you thought about the feel of his lips on your skin. Now, you wanted that feeling everywhere. 

Your body was on autopilot as you made your way through the school parking lot; slushed, muddy snow sat piled up in corners and untouched patches at the edges of the lot from the on-again off-again winter precipitation over the December weeks. Your booted feet marched on toward your car, your mind entirely occupied by thoughts of tomorrow. 

You were so distracted by that thought that you didn’t notice who was waiting for you, leaned up against the trunk of your car.

“Hey there, firecracker.” 

You stopped short when your eyes snapped up to see Alan, along with a couple guys from the basketball team. Their faces were pure predatory malice as Alan eyed you up and down. 

You paused a moment, your heart rate picking up a notch when you realized just how empty the parking lot was, given the hour that had passed since the final bell. 

“I have to get home.” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the driver side door and making your best attempt to brush past the jock leaned up directly beside it, but to no avail. 

“Not so fast, you little freak.” Alan stepped into your path, a cruel smile creasing his freckled face. “We just wanted to chat!”

“You,” your voice betrayed every ounce of disbelief that you felt looking up at the meathead blocking your path to your own vehicle. “-want to chat. With me?”

“I know, I know, you’re flattered-”

“I’m not.” 

“Well you should be.” Alan peered down at you with frigid eyes. “Lord knows no guy will ever want to be seen with you now that the Freak’s got his claws in you.” 

You felt a surge of indignant fire seep into your gaze. “Piss off, asshole.” You attempted to shove past him, but Alan took a step toward you, throwing off your balance. You had to grab the bumper of the car beside you to keep from falling over, clutching at the books in your arms to avoid dropping them onto the icy pavement below. 

“I even heard he branded you.” Alan’s hot breath sent an unwelcome shiver over your skin. “Sherrie said she saw you in the locker room with… some kind of symbol… on your upper thigh, I believe?”

A biting breeze whooshed past you, but you didn’t feel it- your body had already gone ice cold. 

“Sherrie’s lying.”

“You know, I don’t think she is.” Alan’s hands crept closer toward you, ghosting fingertips across the fabric of your skirt. “But if you want to prove it to us…”

You felt your stomach drop when one of Alan’s friends stepped behind you, boxing you in. They were like vultures- to them, you were already down for the count. Ready to be picked at and preyed upon.

Slapping Alan’s hand away, you attempted once again to squeeze past him and his goons, anxious for the safety of your driver’s seat and a locked door between you and them. Unfortunately, Alan had other plans. 

“Come on,” he crooned, “girls don’t get tattoos unless they want people to see them. Go ahead and show us.”

“Go. Away.” you gritted through your teeth. 

“The Freak’s seen it, hasn't he?” Alan pressed, his hand grasping the fabric of your skirt in his fist. “What, you’ll slut yourself out for him, but not us?”

“What the fuck are you dickheads doing?” 

You’d never been so thankful to hear Robin’s voice in your life. 

Alan sneered at the unfamiliar sophomore, subtly letting go of your skirt. “Who the hell are you?” 

Robin marched up to the boy standing behind you, powering her glare with just enough ferocity that he actually moved aside. Grabbing your shoulders, Robin pulled you a good five feet from Alan and looked you square in the eye. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, pulling your car keys from the pocket of your backpack. You were anxious for something tangible to fidget with, something to ground you in where you stood, away from Alan and his wandering hands.

Once she was sure you were alright, Robin turned the full force of her fury on the boys that stood around your car. 

“Mr. Dunne was right behind me on his way out here, so unless you want me to tell him that I just found you groping a female student, I suggest you scram.” 

You saw Alan weighing his options for a moment, but eventually he stuck his hands in the pockets of his letter jacket and- thankfully- took his leave. 

“Whatever, freaks.” he muttered, strolling away like a brat who had grown up believing himself to be invincible in a system that agreed with him.  

It wasn’t until the two of you were both sitting in your car and safe behind locked doors that you finally let out the breath you’d evidently been holding. “Fuck him.” you huffed. “Fuck. Him.”

“Fuck him.” Robin agreed with an emphatic nod of her head. “Has he ever even talked to you before? That seemed… super random, honestly, I’ve never even seen him look in your direction.” 

“I may have picked a fight with him after I heard him call Eddie and I freaks in class not too long ago.” you winced, remembering how brazen you’d been that day… you’d been so bold, so fearless, but that girl was nowhere to be seen today. Instead, you’d frozen like a cornered fox surrounded by hounds. It made you feel so small, you thought you might be sick. You hated feeling this way.

“Apparently,” you continued, “his girlfriend saw my tattoo in the locker room. He said he wanted to see it for himself.” 

Robin had been the first person- and only person- you’d shown your little bat to after Halloween. She’d been pretty impressed… after she’d stopped worrying about it getting infected, of course. 

“First- ew. Gross.” Robin grimaced. “Second- are you telling me you just change in the locker room with that thing out in the open?” 

“I’m usually super careful about keeping it hidden!” you argued, “But it is a possibility that I might have been a little rushed to get to my next class at some point… I guess I wasn’t careful enough.”

A short silence settled while you mentally kicked yourself. I should have known this would happen. How could I be so careless? 

“Well,” Robin started, suddenly chipper. You knew this tone; she was about to try and cheer you up. Good luck, Rob. 

“You’re going to drive me to your house and then we’re baking cookies and watching whatever movie you want.” 

While you were still far from what you would consider over what just happened, your interest was definitely piqued. “Whatever movie I want?” you countered. 

Robin sighed. “I know what you’re about to ask, and yes, we can watch The Dark Crystal.”

The beginnings of a smile stretched across your face. “And you won’t call any of the puppets creepy at any point?”

“Let’s not go that far.” she deadpanned. “I will watch it, I will eat cookies, and I will not suggest that we turn it off before the movie is over. This is my final offer.”

For Robin, that was a pretty good deal. Your beginnings of a grin had graduated to a full-on smile as you took her hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. “You’re a good friend.”

She returned your smile, and squeezed your hand back before letting go to buckle her seatbelt. “I’m a great friend. Now start driving, I’m hungry and we’re stopping for french fries.”

Part 7

Taglist: @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92, @melodymishahiddlestan , @sadlittlesquish, @clarafornerlyknownasclaire-blog , @stylesxmunson , @fishwithtitz , @elvendria , @carrotbunnies21 , @the-unforgivenn , @munson-blurbs, @writinginthetwilight, @ghost-proofbaby , @hellfire--cult

I added a few people to the taglist who’ve shown an interest in the series or have been my sounding boards during the writing process for this story. Hope y’all don’t mind!😊❤️

[momentomori24]

I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

[justmeinadaze]

I've got a brain worm ... I've been thinking about reader having a stupid fight with Steddie, so she ends up going out with friends or by herself, but then something happens, she gets hurt and calls Steddie and they drop everything for her

Warnings: slight harassment from guys at a bar; Steddie saves the day

Word Count: 1047

“I swear to God! Sometimes they get so antsy about any little thing. Like it’s not my fault that my phone died while I was at work and I forgot my charger.”

“Yeah, I mean accidents happen.”

You nodded as you took a sip from your drink you had ordered from the bar. It really was an accident that you forgot your charger on the kitchen counter before leaving for work that morning and you could understand why Eddie and Steve would be frustrated about not being able to reach you but like your friend said it wasn’t like you did it intentionally. 

“Y/N what if something happened to you or one of us?! You wouldn’t know or have any way to reach us.”

“Steve, Jesus Christ, I just forgot! I was in a hurry this morning because I was late and—”

“But you do it a lot, sweetheart, and it makes us nervous. We just want to make sure your safe.”

“A lot? Really, Ed?”

“Yes, baby, really. You forgot your entire phone the other day when you went out with your mom, you forgot to charge it last week and it died overnight making you late for work because the alarm didn’t go off. You can’t keep being so careless.”

“This is why we tell you to just get things ready the night before.”, Steve grumbles. 

“I’m not a fucking child! And it’s not as a big a deal as you two are making this out to be!”

“Y/N, that guy is still gawking at us.” Your friend cringes as you look in that direction. 

After your fight with the guys, you decided to go out and vent with your best friend hoping to let off some steam. As soon as you entered the bar, however, this guy and his own friend kept their eyes glued to you. At first you two tried to ignore it and when they sent you drinks, you sent them back. 

You didn’t start getting worried until they began whispering amongst themselves and making lewd hand gestures like grabbing their crotches to adjust themselves. You knew you were tough and could defend yourself from anyone. Steve had bought you pepper spray to keep in your purse just to be safe but something about these men unnerved you. 

They were bigger than you both not just in height but in size. Even if they weren’t physically strong if one of them got the upper hand, you both would be screwed. You didn’t even think twice when you pulled out your phone which was currently a 1%. 

“Shit.”

“Eddie. Steve. I think I’m in trouble. Can you come pick us up at the hideout?”

As soon as you hit send your phone died. 

“Shit!”, you hissed.

“Should we leave do you think?”

“Um, no. We don’t want to seem too panicked. Maybe, the bartender can walk us out. He knows Eddie and—”

“Hello ladies.”, one of the men that had been watching you slurred. “We just wanted to say you look very beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you. Our boyfriends say the same thing.”

“Oh, boyfriends huh? Where are they if I may ask? In the bathroom maybe.”, the other man snickered. 

“That’s none of your business.”, you spat trying to sound as confident as possible. “Go away.”

“Naw, see, we’ve been watching you ladies and we know you’ve been watching us. We were thinking that we could take you to our place and we can…get to know each other.” His eyes racked across your body making you uncomfortable. 

“This is the last time I’m saying this. Go…away…”

One of the men steps closer to you as you try to lean away. 

“Or what?”, he challenges.

Suddenly, a ringed hand pushes at the man’s chest and Eddie promptly wraps his arm around your shoulder. 

“Hey baby. Sorry we’re late. Who’s your new friend?”

The men’s wide eyes look over the metalhead before glancing at Steve who puts his own protective arm around your friend. 

“They aren’t friends.”

“Oh? Then why are you here?”, he asks them.

“We, huh, we were…”

“Just leaving? Good idea.”, Steve growls. 

They watch with intimidating eyes as the men grumble apologies and scurry back towards the other side of the bar. 

“Steve Harrington, if you weren’t taken I would marry you right now.” Your best friend sighed in relief as she gave him a hug. “Can you walk me to my car?”

He nods and for good extra measure to sell the boyfriend bit, he takes her hand while Eddie holds yours and walks you both outside. As soon as she leaves, they give you their full attention. 

“Phone died? While we were driving here, we kept trying to call but it went straight to voicemail.”

Eddie grunted in surprise as you tackled him and circled your arms around his torso. 

“Thank you for coming. I’m so sorry.”

“Of course we came. Honey, even if we’re upset with each other we still love you. That’s why we get so frustrated about this. We just want to know you’re safe and that you can reach us.”

Releasing the metalhead from your vice like grip, you turn to squeeze Steve. 

“I know. When my phone died after I sent you that text I was so scared it didn’t go through. I kept thinking how if something happened to me…I’m sorry, you guys. I promise I’ll do better when it comes to my phone and things like that. It shouldn’t have had to get this far for me to see your point of view.”

“No, no, sweetheart, we get it. I can see where it would come off as us being possessive or making this into a big thing but…maybe we could have explained it better instead of… I don’t know…”

“Condescending to me like a five-year-old?”

You giggle when he sticks out his tongue at you but nods at your answer. 

“Come on, little one. Let’s go home so you can get things ready for tomorrow and we can get you ready for tonight.”, Steve grins as he opens the car door for you. 

“What’s happening tonight?”

“Oh, so you thought you could get out of this without a spanking for not having your phone charged? Silly little girl.”

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two

TW : Abuse of authority, alpha male, sexual harassment, the word “no” is not in this man’s vocabulary, nsfw, angst, forced proximity

After a hellish 24 hour shift, you’re starting to think you should have taken him up on his offer. Give me a foot rub then get the fuck out. However, it most definitely would not have ended at only a foot rub. You know yourself too well to think you can keep your grubby hands off that man in any sort of private, intimate setting. Yeah, you’re staying the hell away from Ludlow. 

It’s gross, but you don’t even take a shower, and pass out cold on the couch as soon as your rat's nest of hair hits the throw pillow. 

Dark, honey eyes welcome you to the land of unconsciousness. The place where you can’t control your disobedient vagina so easily. And, apparently, she liked Tom Ludlow a lot. Especially his hands. Fuck. Thick fingers, surprisingly gentle and teasing, tucking up inside you, coaxing at that sweet little spot you can’t quite get at on your own. His mouth swallowing your moans, tongue licking urgently against your teeth, practically eating you alive. Something hard and velvet pressed against your thighs. 

A loud knock wakes you up in the same position you started at. Face down on the couch, except now feeling even grosser because of the slick arousal between your legs. You stumble to the door, pull it open. It’s Ms. Higgs, your sweet next door neighbor. 

“Oh, hello, y/n, I heard…. Yelling? Is everything okay?” 

You look at her stupidly. “Yelling….?”

“Yes, it sounded like you were in distress. Sorry, is this a bad time?” She eyes your just-got-hit-by-a-semi-truck appearance, complete with gore and all. 

Oh. The dream. Oh… oh. You feel yourself freeze despite the embarrassed heat warming your skin. “Uh.” Yes, great, make her think you’re out of your mind. You try a terse smile. “Oh. Sorry. I had a long shift and I must have been having a nightmare.” 

How in the hell did you pass nursing school?

Thank God she looks like she wants to leave as soon as possible. “Right. Well.” Clears her throat. “I’m glad you’re okay. Have a good day.” She moves fast for an older woman, shutting herself back into the apartment next door before you can bid goodbye. 

Your neighbor now hates you, and you’re definitely blaming Ludlow for it. 

Shower, eat, masturbate. No, wait. Masturbate, then eat. No. Eat first so then you can masturbate as many times as it takes to get Mr. I’m a Pretty, Dark Eyed Cop With Huge Hands - 

You have to literally pinch yourself to stop this train of thought from turning into a derailed crash. 

Your plans fail miserably, and that is actually Ludlow’s fault, but you refuse to admit it. At least you’re eliminating two steps at once with the handy dandy shower head.

And then again after you eat. And then again in your bed. And, damn, you really need to invest in a vibrator like Sheila told you to do a long time ago. 

You don’t consider yourself a prude by any means; there’s just no time for adult toys or one night stands. Your job, more often than not, consumes your life, and you like it that way. The fast pace, the interesting medical anomalies you get to see, your funny coworkers, cute and oh so nice Dr. Julian who brings you all Starbucks on Sundays. You usually pick up more shifts than you’re scheduled, fueled by rising violent crime rates in the inner cities. There is a satisfaction in bringing someone back from the dead, especially someone young with their whole life ahead of them. Grim Reaper? Psh. Kiss my ass. 

***

Sometimes you need a break, and these next two days you have off are going to be that time away. 

Except, on the second day, you’re bored, so you end up going in for an eight hour shift. 

You have a bad habit of not viewing your patient’s info before you get into their exam room, favoring the ol’ fashioned method of actually looking at the person instead of a computer. As soon as you walk into your next assigned room, however, you vow to change your messy bitch ways. Handsome Cop - the one you refuse to admit you spent two full days rubbing yourself off to - sits on the cot, grinning at you like the cat that caught the mouse. 

You do feel a little bit like a tiny mouse under that hefty stare, scurrying in and going right to the computer so you don’t have to make eye contact longer than necessary - well, long enough for ruined underwear. 

“Hey.” 

“Hello, did your stitches come open?” You try to maintain a strictly professional voice, but you can tell by the sharpening of his grin it’s not working. 

“What? You’re not gonna fight with me today?” 

“Do nurses fight people where you’re from?” Here you are, playing into his game. Stupid. 

“There she is.” 

Your jaw tightens. “What are you being seen for, Mr. Ludlow?”

“Ouch, surnames? Really?”

“Surprised you know what that big word means.”

His gorgeous eyebrow cocks as he looks around the monitor at you, and you tuck yourself further behind the computer to hide. 

“Okay, okay.” He puts his hands up in surrender. Well, he puts his right hand up. His left can only rise so far into the air. “Yeah, I tore them.” 

“Can you show me?” 

He strips his shirt, revealing a long, toned torso that belongs in X-rated cinema instead of bed number 3 at the South Bay General ED. 

“Have you ever heard the phrase, close your mouth or you’ll catch flies?” He asks. 

“It’s actually, shut your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” 

“Okay, how about this one: My eyes are up here, darling.”

First of all, you didn’t even look at his bare chest that much. He’s definitely exaggerating. Second of all, well - ugh - second of all fuck you, Ludlow. 

His stitches are busted open right in the middle. You have to unstick the bloody dressing carefully and then spray the center with some antiseptic. 

“You should be more careful.” Is it just you or does he smell different tonight? Less sweat and copper, more spice and cardamon.

You do your best to shake it off. Plenty of men wear cologne everyday–it doesn’t mean he got cleaned up just for you. 

“I don’t really have anyone to be careful for.”

“Get a dog?” 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

“What why? I don’t know, blue?” 

“So I can pick out a collar you’ll like.” 

He’s joking, but the feral urge to jam your thumb right into his tearing wound is palpable. 

He realizes he fucked up when you don’t have a witty retort. 

“Oh, fuck. I didn’t mean that you’re a bitch.” If you’re giving him credit, he at least looks sorry. And sorry looks far too good on him. The big grinning Doberman turns into a wide eyed puppy dog and it makes your heart squeeze tighter. “I’m sorry. I just meant - hey, hey.” He tips your chin up so you can see the apology in his softened eyes. “I’m an asshole.” 

You flick his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” 

He must be hard of hearing, because he dwarfs your arm in his grip and pulls you closer. “C’Mon, little nurse. Now you have to let me make it up to you. Let me buy you a fancy dinner or something.” 

Pulling away is not an option, so you come up with a better idea. “Okay, fine. I will. If you can answer one question.”

He looks delighted by this. “Try me.”

“What’s my name?” 

You relish the sight of his smile wiping clean. The big grin transfers from his face to yours. 

“Seriously?”

“Well?” It’s your turn to raise a cocky eyebrow.

He tries to flip your badge frontward, but you slap his hand away. He’s quick, catches your wrist, pulls you closer so that your body is pressing into his calves, traps both of your hands in one of his and spins the badge so that he can see your picture and name. He repeats it, first and last, grins back with a vengeance. This little tussle really bruises your ego, because it doesn’t even seem like you made him wince or falter even once.

“Cheater,” you snarl. 

“Takes one to know one.” 

“Let me go.” 

“Make me.” 

“I’ll scream.” 

“Oh yeah you will.” He winks. 

Fucking sexy bastard. 

“Want those stitches worse or better?” You threaten. 

“I don’t really care,” he shrugs, eyes light with humor. “Just did it to come see you anyway.” 

“You tore your own stitches?” 

“No. Someone else did after I insulted their mother.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You put him back together once again (you might have to start calling this man Humpty Dumpty, that will put him in his place) and start to peel off your gloves. “So when can I pick you up?” he asks, those dark eyes shining like high-polished ebony. 

“Half past never?”

“Hey, we had a deal.”

“We did, but then you cheated. Manhandling me at work is a major disqualification.”

“Pretty sure you liked it,” he fires back with a smirk.

You sigh, propping a hand on your hip, because he’s not wrong. You’re more than a little touch starved at the moment, and you’re sure the ease with which he manhandled you will haunt your dreams (your poor neighbor!) and fuel your fantasies for weeks to come. But there’s just something about this guy that warns you not to give in this easily. He feels…a little dangerous. To your physical health, or your personal sanity, you’re not sure. 

“Please try to be more careful with your stitches, Mr. Ludlow. Have a nice day.”

Understanding that he’s being dismissed, he stands, one step in the small room bringing him right in front of you–and boy, does he tower over you. You try to conceal how very much you like that, but fear you betray yourself in the shaky exhale that escapes you. “I’m just going to keep coming back,” he tells you, seeming far too pleased by the idea. 

“For your own health, I certainly hope you don’t.”

“I’m in a dangerous line of work. All sorts of things can happen.”

You pick up what he’s putting down pretty quick, and it annoys the shit out of you. “If you get yourself hurt on purpose, that is not on me.”

“Then save me some pain, sweetheart. Didn’t you take an oath or something? Do no harm?”

“That’s doctors. I took a pledge to practice my profession faithfully–which I’m doing. Didn’t you? What happened to ‘Serve and Protect?’”

“Sure thing. And I keep my oaths too.” The weight with which he looks at you makes something warm and uncomfortable coil in your belly, radiating outwards to your fingers and toes. 

A man who keeps his promises? 

Never heard of him. 

You are too young to be this jaded, but maybe it’s better that you learned the hard lessons quicker than most. Maybe it will save you some pain in the interim. Avoiding this utterly edible man in front of you probably falls into that category. 

You stand silently, waiting for him to leave. He seems to find this funny as hell, and tips an imaginary cap down at you. “See you soon, y/n.” 

You hope not, but you’re afraid that’s a promise he’ll keep. 

[unpopulartransfag]

.... So when should I come out and actually tell people that the reason why I don't like Saint Dionysus is because, about 3 years ago, he was extremely transphobic towards me and threatened to murder me if I didn't detransition on a side blog that he shared with one of his friends (@/trans-mom I think was the URL for his friend), backtracked whenever I start having a panic attack and freaked out, claimed it was just a kink before messaging me from his regular blog, and whenever I confronted him he apologized and said that it was all her fault, claimed over DMS that she had made him do it but that the whole thing actually made him extremely dysphoric, but that it was Amy's kink not his, but then later he publicly lied about ever being associated with that account and lied to people that she had nothing to do with it despite the fact that he directly admitted it over DMs to me.

I know it's been a really long time but I cannot feel safe around either of them online after that incident. It wasn't just the fact that they forced non-consensual misgendering and detransition kinks onto someone who he knew was extremely triggered by it, meaning that he and Amy sexually harassed me and shot transphobic harassment at me, but the fact that he apologized to me over DM's and then lied to literally everyone else.

I cannot fucking stand hypocrites or liars. And I fucking cannot stand transphobic trans people and people who don't acknowledge or respect other people's boundaries or consent whenever it comes to triggering Kinks. I lost all of my respect for him whenever that happened and I don't trust him as a human being. I also don't trust Amy as a human being.

I know that they're both really fucking popular on here and whenever I've talked about this before I've gotten my account basically chased off the platform by people who are obsessed with him and think that he can do no wrong. But the truth of the matter is that he's manipulative and he lies. He's transphobic to other trans people and then will deny it in public after apologizing to them personally.

I 100% support his contribution to discussion about transandrophobia, dude can make some good points sometimes, but as a human being he absolutely disgusts me. I didn't deserve to be harassed by him or his friend especially because at the time I was pregnant and the stress from the panic attack that it caused caused me to have to go to the hospital because I almost went into labor early, but I also don't deserve to have someone be a liar and a hypocrite to my face.

I know that I'm older than him but I have such a smaller platform that it doesn't really matter what I say about him. I've been on this platform longer than him but I haven't kept the same account consistently because of his followers harassing me whenever I talked about this originally right whenever it happened, and also because of being harassed by transphobes until my accounts have been removed from false flagging.

So people can fucking believe me however much or little they want about this but that is the honest reason why I don't respect him and don't follow him and don't want to see his name on my fucking page.

Saint Dionysus is a fucking hypocrite. He's manipulative as shit. He's a fucking liar. And he's transphobic towards other trans men when it suits him, which is fucking bullshit.

I'm not saying that I believe that people should unfollow him or block him or that he should be deplatformed but people do need to know that he has done the ship before and I'm not the only person who has talked about it before but usually whenever people do he has his friends and fans chase them off the platform or mass report them.

So yeah y'all can have that little bit of interpersonal drama if you want. Just know that whenever I see his name pop up I feel physically sick and disgusted that he is still even on this platform.

Tldr: I do not trust Saint Dionysus or Amy/trans-mom because they traumatized me, apologized for it privately, and then lied about it publicly to avoid any backlash, and when I spoke out about it, he had my account Mass reported until it was taken down.

[thepoparena]

Thoughts on "Quiet on Set"

I imagine, being one of Youtube’s “Nickelodeon Content Creators”, you want to know what I thought. QUIET ON SET, the new four-part documentary detailing inappropriate behavior and abuse on the set of Dan Schneider’s various Nickelodeon shows, starts off on its worst foot, with all the earmarks of trashy tabloid journalism. A couple of gossip journalists walk us through events and interject how you’re supposed to feel about them. There’s one moment where Leon Frierson, former ALL THAT cast member, talks about how uncomfortable some of the costuming made him, about how the noses on a nose-themed superhero costume has some unfortunate phallic resemblances, and then we cut to a writer from Buzzfeed going “and then the sneeze gag is basically a cum shot joke!” Frierson never says that. In a later episode, a similar comparison is made to a gag on ZOEY 101, but there it’s actress Alexa Nikolas making that connection from the workplace environment she had found herself in. It’s an authentic observation, where in the earlier example it was outsider sensationalization, playing to the “crusaders” on Twitter and Tiktok where the public side of Schneider drama has mostly lived over the past decade. They bring on Marc Summers, Nickelodeon elder statesman who had virtually no presence in this era of the channel, for all of twelve seconds so that he can watch a clip of a Schneider show and go “oh, wow, they aired that?”

You can imagine how the producers' eyes must have lit up when they learned that Brian Peck, former Nick dialogue coach and convicted sex offender, owned a John Wayne Gacy painting. I mean, yeah, that’s fucked up, but it has virtually nothing to do with anything. It is, however, a perfect “can you believe this” moment that can be clipped and shared on social media for shock value. It’s something that the documentary can ride as a viral moment.

QUIET ON SET was produced for Investigation Discovery, whose bread and butter is schlocky true crime documentaries. Shows like EVIL LIVES HERE and WHO THE (BLEEP) DID I MARRY. Not exactly tasteful television. The channel is owned by Warner Bros Discovery, and was simultaneously released on Max. Warner Bros Discovery owns Cartoon Network. The documentary puts emphasis on Nickelodeon being on the top of the children’s cable game, and often brings up the Disney Channel as Nick’s main competitor. At no point is Cartoon Network mentioned, because, well, nobody wants to say their competitor is doing better than them, and saying you’re doing better than Nickelodeon would defeat the documentary’s narrative. My point is that I do not believe QUIET ON SET comes from a genuine place. It’s cheap schlock shock documentary filmmaking that wants to attract the same crowd who watch serial killer shows for fun. However. It’s also a space where a lot of people who were hurt during this time at Nickelodeon have come forward to tell their stories, and that pretty much nullifies all the gross exploitation elements present in the early parts. When these people start speaking for themselves, the documentary has no choice but to let them speak, and its more garbage instincts fade away. By the time Drake Bell starts telling his story, the gossip journalists all but vanish until the end, and there’s a stronger sensitivity to everything. The topics raised are harrowing. Workplace discrimination, sexual harassment, child abuse, sexism on set, racism on set, and general mispractice paint a meaningful picture of the toxic environment Nickelodeon was allowing at this time. The stories told by AMANDA SHOW writers Christy Stratton and Jenny Kilgen are infuriating. And then the sexual assault of Drake Bell by Brian Peck. Not an easy watch. It shouldn’t be an easy watch. What a fucking awful thing. It’s heartbreaking to watch. The documentary handles it with an unexpected tact and evenhandedness. It doesn’t excuse Bell’s later behaviors, and it allows Schneider to come off as one of the few adults who handled the situation correctly, even if the rest of the documentary is largely against him. I wish this had been the tone of the entire piece. QUIET ON SET is an important document of a terrible entertainment workplace. It’s a shame they dumped a bunch of trash on top of it. It’s not an easy watch, but it’s one of those things that’s going to be referenced to a lot over the years, and I hope that the people who make children’s television were learn the right lessons from it.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: he was wearing a Darth Vader costume at Comic Con. you were wearing a Padmé Amidala one. can I make it any more obvious? you were both nerds. what more can I say? pairing: seonghwa x reader genre: fluff with a sprinkle of angst; strangers to friends to lovers warnings: bullying, harassment, swearing, nerdy stuff, overthinking, insecurities, confession, kissing, hugging, fear of losing someone, protective™️ hwa, mentions of past suicidal thoughts/possible self-harm, rat hongjoong but he means well, loyal puppy yunho, some violence/punching, lying/secrets author's note: honestly hwa is the best boyfie ever i just thought it'd be kinda boring if there was no ~drama~ word count: 5.8k

It was your first Comic Con and you were pretty excited. You worked so hard for almost two years so that you could afford the tickets, as well as your Padmé Amidala costume. You were going alone but you hoped that you'd make new friends who were into the same stuff as you. You had been looking forward to this event pretty much all your life. However, the harsh reality didn't match your expectations. For starters, it was so crowded that you could barely make your way. You attended a couple of panels, bought a bunch of overpriced merch but after a while, you were beginning to feel exhausted. Everyone seemed to have come with friends and you felt like an outsider. And then, to top it off, you had the following negative experience:

"Oh my God, look at that uglyass Padmé costume," you heard an annoying male voice. "Can you believe this shit?"

"Yeah, like, who even likes the prequels?" another asshole responded.

"Stupid women, that's who," the first voice said and the the two laughed in a disgusting way.

Ugh. It felt like middle school all over again. There was no escape from bullies. You rolled your eyes and tried to get out of here so that you wouldn't have to put up with hearing such comments. But just then, one of the guys spilled red juice all over your costume!

"Oops, my bad," he snickered loudly.

"Well, it's not a huge loss. The costume was shit anyway," the other guy cackled demonically.

All the traumatic memories from your past came crashing down on you. You rushed towards the bathrooms, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Fucking jerks. Why couldn't they just mind their own business? Why did they have to ruin your day and the costume you'd spent so much money on? You wished you were brave enough to stand up for yourself but after all these years, you were still just a little girl, terrified of getting picked on.

You tried to clean up the red spot to the best of your abilities so that it wouldn't stain but it proved quite difficult with the low quality soap available in the Comic Con bathrooms. As if that wasn't enough, your vision was so blurry due to the tears. Eventually, you gave up and decided to get out of here. Maybe, you weren't meant for such huge events. You should have stayed at home, watching Star Wars cuddled up under a blanket. As you left the bathrooms, you bumped into someone wearing a terrifyingly realistic Darth Vader costume. Can this day get any better?

"S-sorry," you murmured awkwardly and were about to take your leave when "Darth Vader" spoke:

"Not to sound like a creep but I overheard what happened out there and I just wanted to say these assholes are an embarrassment to our fandom."

"Agreed," you nodded.

"And for the record, your costume looks incredible!"

"Um, thanks. Yours is…insane. Like you came out from the movies," you smiled nervously.

"Don't cry, beautiful. They're not worth it," he reassured you and caught a single tear from falling with a gloved hand. Damn, he had game and you felt your heart fluttering.

If a couple of days ago someone had told you that Darth Vader would be comforting you outside of a public bathroom at Comic Con, you wouldn't have believed them.

"Do you want me to beat the shit out of them for you?" he asked.

Because you couldn't see his facial expressions that were hidden behind the mask, you couldn't tell if he was joking.

"Nah, honestly, I think I'll just head home," you sniffled.

"What? No way, don't let them ruin your time here. I promise, you can have a lot of fun if you ignore people like that."

"Really?" you blinked hopefully.

"Come on," he grabbed your hand and soon enough, you were back inside the venue. "Darth Vader" seemed to be a social butterfly and he not only insisted on taking tons of pictures with you but also introduced you to his friends, one of them was wearing a Chewbacca suit and the other had dressed up as Luke Skywalker. You took photos in pairs and together as a group, went to a few more panels and had a jolly good time. At one point you thought you saw the two assholes from earlier from afar and you could swear their eyes looked a little swollen but then again, you hadn't brought your glasses and it might as well have been your wishful thinking.

As the event was coming to an end, you were pleasantly surprised by how many positive memories you'd accumulated that made up for that one shitty experience. Suddenly, "Darth Vader" asked you:

"Do you want to grab a drink or something?"

"Oh, yeah, sure!" you smiled enthusiastically. Even though you still didn't know his name, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy and you were excited to spend some more time together.

"Great! Let me just get out of my suit 'cause I'm overheating and drinking anything with this mask on does not sound like a fun idea."

"Haha, I don't envy you," you replied. You couldn't imagine carrying such a heavy suit all day long. You told him you'd wait for him outside of the bathrooms. As you were looking through some of the photos you took on your phone, you caught yourself smiling a little too wide. You put the device back into your bag.

Then, out of nowhere, the most visually stunning guy you'd ever seen came out of the bathrooms. And he was staring directly at you! What the fuck? You blinked in shock as you saw him walk towards you.

"Um…I guess it's high time I introduced myself properly. Hi, my name's Seonghwa," he said in a vaguely familiar voice.

"Huh?" you whispered in a daze as you took his hand. "I'm Y/N…"

"Darth Vader?" he chuckled nervously, trying to remind you. "We literally spent the whole day together?"

"Eh?!"

"Did you hit your head or something?" Seonghwa joked. "Is it that shocking to see me without the mask?"

"Sorry, it's just…" you tried to snap out of it. "You're too pretty."

"And that comes as a surprise, because…?"

"I guess I sorta expected that you were some middle-aged nerd who doesn't shower."

"Ouch," he laughed. "I don't blame you, though. At events like Comic Con, I've had my fair share of encounters with non-showering nerds."

"I rest my case," you shook your head in amusement.

"Still up for drinks?"

"Are you kidding? Good luck trying to get rid of me," you teased.

Seonghwa ordered a cup of tea and you wanted a cappuccino. Then, the two of you sat down at a place nearby.

"Soo, what interests do you have? Other than Star Wars?" Seonghwa asked.

"Gosh, there are too many," you giggled. "I used to be really into Marvel and DC but haven't seen some of the recent movies that came out. I feel more drawn to the TV shows as there is more time to develop the psychology of the characters."

"Ooh, I totally get what you mean," he nodded. "Though I love a good action scene, sometimes it gets too much, you know?"

"Right? Like I'm sorry for wanting depth and meaningful background stories."

"Mhm, you said it so well," Seonghwa replied and took a sip from his cup.

"What about you? What other things do you like?"

"I adore Disney movies," he confessed shyly, blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Ahh, that's lovely! Me too," you beamed with excitement.

"You don't think it's kinda embarrassing? I've been made fun of for my Maximus costume at an event."

"Ugh, assholes like that should be banned from Comic Con!" you got angry on his behalf, as you had experienced getting bullied too many times. "Why can't people just let others enjoy stuff? If you don't like someone's costume, would it kill you to shut up?"

"You're so right! Speaking of costumes, we should exchange social media so we can send each other pictures from today."

"Yess, that'd be great," you typed in your Instagram on Seonghwa's phone and soon enough, the two of you started spamming one another with all the fun memories you'd made.

You didn't realize how much time passed as you two shared more about your interests. Seonghwa even insisted on travelling with you to your literal doorstep, as it had gotten dark out, which was incredibly sweet of him.

"I'm so glad we met," he admitted. "Like, obviously I'm not happy you had to listen to these dicks but uhm, I'm glad I approached you."

"Me too, Seonghwa," you smiled.

"We should watch a movie sometime. Or go shopping for cute merch. Or…whatever you like."

"I'd like all of that," you admitted. "Good night, Hwa."

"Good night, Y/N."

As the days went by, you realized how much in common you had with Seonghwa. It went beyond the initial Star Wars connection, you both loved Sanrio a lot and playing Animal Crossing together was one of your favourite activities. Cooking and cleaning side by side was both practical and therapeutic. Even when you went shopping, you were amazed by your similar tastes. In short, you were completely whipped for him. However, you were reluctant about confessing your crush. It had been a while since you made such a wonderful friend and you were terrified of losing him. You loved spending time with him and you would absolutely hate yourself if you did something to scare him away. Realistically, you knew that Seonghwa wasn't that easily spooked and you were probably just stuck in your head, overthinking it and coming up with the worst possible scenario. A part of you kept telling you that when (not if, because you thought there was no way he liked you back) he rejected you, he would still make sure you stayed friends. But still, you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. It felt so lovely as it was and you couldn't bear the thought of ruining it.

"What's wrong? You've got your thinking face on." Seonghwa asked, as he was looking through the cute Sanrio keychains exposed at the store.

"My what?" you blinked in confusion.

"Your thinking face. When something is bothering you, you kinda space out and scrunch up your eyebrows. It's cute but I can't help but worry."

Damnit. You were amazed by how attentive he was to the smallest of details. Also, what was that about it being cute? Did he mean cute in a friend way or…

"You're overthinking your answer again," Seonghwa called you out. "Come on, just tell me. I'm your friend, no?"

"That's exactly the problem."

"Me being your friend?" Seonghwa was perplexed. "Would it make it easier for you to share your concerns if I were a foe?"

"I guess…" you frowned.

"Come on. I've got an idea," Seonghwa hurriedly paid for two matching Kuromi and My Melody keychains, grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the store.

"Where are we going?" you laughed at his spontaneity.

"You'll see," he responded cryptically.

A while later, you ended up in his apartment.

"Wait here," Seonghwa pointed at the couch and you sat down hesitantly. What was he planning?

He took longer than expected but finally, he returned. Or rather…Darth Vader returned. Wait, what?!

"Hi," Seonghwa mumbled.

You couldn't take it seriously and burst into laughter.

"It's not funny, I'm trying to help you!" he insisted.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you can't tell me what's troubling you because I'm your friend."

"Seonghwa…"

"I'm not Seonghwa, it's Darth Vader now, a totally unfriendly figure. So, spill."

You gulped nervously. Oh, fuck it.

"Well, Darth Vader, the thing is I have a crush on a friend. But I don't wanna mess things up 'cause he probably doesn't feel the same way. And he's really important to me. The thought of losing him scares me."

"I'm the scariest thing in the galaxy! No, I am your father!" Seonghwa/Darth Vader said, which made you laugh again.

"I'm serious!" you responded after you managed to subdue your giggles, hopeful for some sort of advice.

"What if your friend feels the same way?" he suggested calmly.

"That's unlikely."

"What's your friend's name?"

"I can't…"

"Say it. Or I can't help you."

"Seonghwa."

"Yes, sweetheart?" he replied, breaking character.

"No, the friend I have a crush on…is you."

"Darth Vader" took off his mask and you were once again greeted by Seonghwa's friendly and unbelievably beautiful face.

"Are you serious?"

"You have a crush on me, Seonghwa, not Darth Vader, the character?" he wanted to make sure just in case.

"I mean…both but mostly you, Seonghwa," you chuckled.

"Mostly, huh? I guess I'll have to work harder to make it only me," he said, pressed his palm against your cheek and leaned down a bit. "May I kiss you?"

"You w-want to k-kiss me?" you were stunned by what was happening. Did he perhaps like you back?!

"I'd like that very much but only if you want it too."

"Shut up and kiss me," you said and wrapped your arms around his neck as Seonghwa closed the distance between you two. His lips were ridiculously soft and tasted like cherries. Lip balm? God, he was so cute and sexy you were going to lose your mind. After you were done kissing for the time being, you decided to discuss what this meant for you.

"So…you like me back?" you asked, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"I'm not in the habit of kissing people I don't like," Seonghwa joked.

You nudged his shoulder.

"You know what I meant."

"I do like you back, yes," he confirmed verbally.

"Can…I be your girlfriend or something?" you blurted out while hiding your face in embarrassment.

"As long as I can be your boyfriend. Or something. Gosh, why are you so adorable?" Seonghwa pulled you into a hug, making you feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Nope, you are!" you insisted and squeezed him back. "I can't believe you pulled the Darth Vader costume to get me to confess. Such a nerd."

"But it worked, didn't it? And also, you're no different. Thirdly, you fell for this nerd!" Seonghwa kept teasing you relentlessly.

"Fine, fine, I get it. We're both silly little nerds."

"And that's what makes us perfect for each other."

"I couldn't agree more."

You were over the moon while dating Seonghwa. You did everything together. When you received a surprising text from him, it was one of your happiest moments:

Hwanakin: I may have a surprise 👀

You: Oh? 🍵

Hwanakin: I spent A LOT of money on something I've wanted for a while but I think it's worth it

You: Tell me tell me tell me!

Hwanakin: image attachment

You: No way, you're actually insane, this is sooo cool

Hwanakin: 🙈🙈🙈

You: SO happy for you omg

Hwanakin: I was wondering if you wanna build it with me? I know you once mentioned you'd like to give Legos a try but you haven't bought any since they're kinda pricey so I thought you might wanna come over and work on it together?

You were too overjoyed by the offer to immediately respond that you just squealed and needed to jump around in your room a little. Then, your phone tinged with another notification from the sweetest boyfriend in the galaxy. No, scratch that. In the UNIVERSE.

Hwanakin: It's okay if that's not your thing, I just thought I'd ask you…

You: ARE YOU KIDDING? OF COURSE I'D LOVE TO!!! I AM SUPER THRILLED AAAAAAAA

You: Sorry for screaming I'm just so excited rn

Hwanakin: Haha it's alright, I'm so glad you'd like to share this awesome experience with me!

You: I'm even more glad! Gladder? What is English? Um anyway thank you for offering, I'm beyond touched and honoured and just…Ahhh!!!

Hwanakin: Hey, no need to thank me, you're my girlfriend, it goes without saying that I wanna do stuff with you

Fuck, you would never grow tired of hearing those two words.

Seonghwa's birthday was approaching and you were panicking. During the couple of months you'd been together, he'd been the most amazing ever. He would give you so much and not just in the material sense. Though you were a sucker for Lego flowers and adorable Sanrio keychains and your favourite chocolates, he was also giving you so much of his free time, his affection, his kind words and his delicious meals. You were literally in love with him already but you didn't want to rush into saying it to him out of fear you'd scare him away. Like in the situation with confessing your crush on him, you had this irrational fear that your love was somehow capable of driving him away.

Nevertheless, you wanted to do something really special and thoughtful for his birthday. You didn't think it was right to just buy anything, you had to make something. Which was how you ended up on the crocheting side of YouTube. You'd tried it a couple of years ago but you were far too impatient to stick to it. However, if it was for Seonghwa, you felt like you had enough determination. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts, tons of hours and a lot of screaming on your side, you had done it. You managed to crochet a somewhat decent Grogu/Baby Yoda. So adorable. You were quite proud of your accomplishment and genuinely hoped that Seonghwa would like it. Then, you a made a handwritten card, drawing your own doodles and pouring your entire heart out. Finally, the night before his birthday, you baked some strawberry tarts. Everything had to be perfect for your perfect boy.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Seonghwa, happy birthday to you," you sang to him gently.

"Thank you, my sweetheart!" he responded softly. "You didn't have to do anything, your presence itself is enough of a present."

"Aww, stop it, you smooth-talker!" you waved him off and gave him the bag full of surprises. "Don't get your hopes up, it's nothing fancy."

"It doesn't have to be. You could give me a sock and I'd be happy."

"Miss Y/N has given Seonghwa a sock! Seonghwa is free!" you joked, making him blush and shake his head.

Finally, he opened up the present. As expected, the crocheted Grogu caught his attention first.

"Oh my goodness, sooo adorable!" he clutched the green creature to his heart. "Did you make this?"

"I tried my best, yeah," you giggled shyly.

"You're literally incredible, thank you so much!"

Then, he saw the strawberry tarts you'd made and insisted on trying them right away.

"What do you think?"

"Super yummy, love them!" Seonghwa said.

"Yay, that's a relief!" you smiled.

Finally, he found the handwritten card, which read, as follows:

Dear Seonghwa, The day that I met you was a day I'd been looking forward to quite a bit. It was my first Comic Con and I was extremely excited about it. However, a couple of seconds and two assholes were threatening to ruin that special day for me. It brought back so many negative memories and I was ready to go home and cry myself to sleep. Until you showed up and made what could have been the worst day of my life into one of the best. (The best day being the day I became your girlfriend. No, actually, every day I spend with you is the best. Forgive me for being corny.) My point is that your presence has healing powers. Your kind heart is one of my favourite things about you. Your precious smile makes me absolutely mad. Also, you are incredibly funny and smart. How you pulled that stunt off in a Darth Vader costume in order to make me confess is still super iconic of you. And don't get me started on how handsome you are. It should be illegal at this point! Happy Birthday, my darling star! May this day be one of your best days! Yours in earnest, Y/N

Seonghwa closed the card, his eyes watering in emotion.

"Come here," he said and pulled you into a hug. "It truly is one of my best days. And you are the best thing that's ever been mine."

"Did you just pull a Taylor Swift on me?" you chuckled.

"Maybe," he smirked. "But seriously, you gotta tell me all about those negative memories. Give me names and addresses of whoever hurt you, I just wanna talk."

"Hey, it's your birthday! I don't wanna ruin it with all this shit from the past…"

"You wouldn't be ruining anything. Besides, you said it yourself. It's my birthday and I really wanna talk about it. As long as you feel ready, of course, no pressure."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," you smiled at him. "Well, if you insist…Long story short, I used to get bullied in middle school. At first they were just teasing me for being a nerd and having high grades. But then I would start to hear all sorts of comments about my outfits, my hair, or my body. There was even online hate about me. It got really bad at one point, I didn't want to live anymore and did some stupid harmful shit to myself... When I went to high school, it was different. I made some amazing friends and everyone was more mature. However, some of these things I went through still stayed with me. And that day at Comic Con, that one short encounter was enough to send me spiraling. It unlocked so much unresolved trauma, I guess. If it hadn't been for you…I don't know."

Seonghwa pulled you closer and started doodling cute little figures on your wrists.

"You drew stars around my scars," you whispered.

"Did you just pull a Taylor Swift on me?" he repeated your words from earlier.

"Maybe," you chuckled.

"You know, I'm not one to believe in stuff like destiny or whatever. But as harsh as that sounds, I feel like all these terrible stuff you went through brought you to me. Does that make sense?"

"It's not harsh, I like it very much," you insisted. "I would go through them all over again if it meant finding my way back to you."

"Lucky for you, you don't have to. If anyone dares to lay a finger on you, no force in the universe can stop me from making their lives miserable."

You liked how protective he was over you. But sometimes, it scared you…

Seonghwa had invited you to play Dungeons and Dragons with him and his friends Hongjoong (who had dressed up as Luke Skywalker at Comic Con) and Yunho (who had a Chewbacca costume). You'd hung out with them a couple of times and you had grown fond of them and were happy about how quickly they'd accepted you into their friend group. You had been dating Seonghwa for a while and you had a key to his apartment so you let yourself in. He texted you that he'd come soon and just as you were about to greet Hongjoong and Yunho who were already there, you accidentally overheard their conversation:

"We have to tell her, man," Hongjoong insisted. They were in the kitchen, speaking more loudly than usual, as they thought they were alone.

"I think it's better if we managed to convince Seonghwa to tell her himself," Yunho argued.

"What if she stumbles upon the video? It's freaking viral already," Hongjoong explained. "It's better if she heard it from us than finding it on her own and jumping to conclusions."

"But Seonghwa is our friend, he'd feel so betrayed if we ratted him out like this," Yunho replied.

"She's our friend, too," Hongjoong sighed. "I say we tell her."

"Tell me what?" you finally entered the kitchen, making your presence known.

Yunho shook his head, still not on board, but Hongjoong had made up his mind and showed you the viral video in question. It was titled "Darth Vader punches bullies at Comic Con" and in it was exactly what the title suggested. It was pretty shocking to witness.

"Is this Hwa?" you gasped in horror.

Hongjoong nodded sadly. Suddenly, it all made sense. You'd thought it was your imagination when you saw the bullies' swollen and red eyes from afar, but nope, it was actually 'cause your boyfriend had physically assaulted them. You cursed yourself for forgetting your glasses. You felt so betrayed. The day that you considered to be one of your happiest days was marred with so much violence and Seonghwa was keeping such a big thing a secret from you…

"They're not gonna press charges against Seonghwa, if that's what you're worried about," Yunho tried to reassure you.

"I'm not worried about that, I'm upset he didn't tell me about it," you cried out.

"That's not the only thing he didn't tell you about," Hongjoong mumbled under his nose.

"Hongjoong!" Yunho exclaimed, reprimanding his friend for spilling all the tea.

"She has the right to know!" Hongjoong shouted.

"And it's better if she has this conversation with Seonghwa instead of us."

"Just tell me everything, I don't think I can face him right now," you said.

"Seonghwa used some strings to ban the assholes who bullied you from Comic Con," Hongjoong the truth There have been previous cases of them harassing women and Seonghwa managed to get to the bottom of it and make sure they get exposed and punished."

"What? That doesn't make any sense, he didn't even know me back then," you tried to rationalize this strange situation. "Why would he go to such lengths?"

"Except he did know you. Do you remember having an online friend named Scarlett?"

"I do. She stopped texting me back at some point. Wait, where did you hear Scarlett's name? I've never even told Hwa about her."

"Think about it, Y/N. How could I possibly know?" Hongjoong sighed sadly.

"No," you couldn't believe it. "Don't tell me Seonghwa is Scarlett?"

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such news," Hongjoong confirmed.

It all made sense now. "Scarlett" had stopped messaging you right after you'd met Seonghwa at Comic Con. You had sent "her" selfies of yourself, which explained how Hwa recognized you. You had told "her" you'd attend the event so it was quite possible that he went out of his way to meet you…God, you felt sick.

"Great job, Hongjoong, Seonghwa will totally kill us now," Yunho was beginning to panic.

"I'd like to see him try," Hongjoong shook his head. "Don't misunderstand, Y/N. It's not like he stalked you or anything. I'm sure he just really wanted to meet you in real life and he must have thought that Comic Con was a good place to start. He didn't expect all this drama with the bullies to get in the way."

"He still lied to me, Hongjoong! For months! Tell him some emergency came up. I can't talk to him right now."

"Tell him yourself," Yunho suggested nervously.

You paled in shock as you turned around and faced Seonghwa. Just like how you'd overheard Hongjoong and Yunho's conversation, Seonghwa had heard what you'd just said.

"I have to go," you murmured and rushed towars the door.

Seonghwa grabbed your wrist and tried to stop you from leaving.

"Sweetheart, wait, let me explain."

"I need to be alone," you tried to express your boundaries.

"I'm still the same person you care about," he kept trying.

"Which person would that be? Darth Vader? Scarlett? I don't even know who you are anymore, Seonghwa. If that is your real name."

"Of course it's my real name. Please, I want to tell you my side of the story."

"And I want to be alone."

"You're not breaking up with me?" he asked, his big eyes moist with emotion.

"I'm not. I just need some time to think. If you ever cared about me just a little, you'll let go of me."

And he finally did as you asked. But as you walked out of the door and felt your heart shattering into a million pieces, some part of you wished he hadn't…

Three weeks passed since this painful moment. Even though you had told him it wasn't a break-up, it sure felt like one. He would send you messages but you wouldn't reply to them. Just like "Scarlett" had stopped responding. But it hurt so much. You were doing the same old things but without him, everything seemed bleak and meaningless. Yes, he'd lied to you, but you hated to imagine a universe in which you'd never met.

This weekend you impulsively decided to go to an event where nerds could gatter, dress up and have fun in the hopes that it'd make you feel better. It was on a smaller scale than Comic Con but you still figured it was a better idea than staying at home, crying your eyes out and eating too much ice cream. You had dressed up as Catwoman and despite the recent misfortunes, you were feeling pretty damn good about yourself. Until you saw these assholes from Comic Con again. Right, they had been banned to it but could still attend other events. And you saw them harassing another woman!

"Come on, don't be such a prude, give us your number."

"I don't want to…" she replied meekly.

"She said no, fuckers!" you didn't know what demon possessed you to do that. The you from before couldn't even stand up for yourself but now you couldn't imagine watching someone else being in such an awful situation and not doing anything.

The two bullies turned around.

"Remember me?" you asked confidently. "I'm the reason your sorry asses can't set foot in Comic Con till the rest of your miserable lives."

Recognition immediately lit up their ugly faces. They probably got flashbacks of Darth Vader punching them and then them becoming a laughing stock for the entire Internet to see. They exchanged a look and were about to sneak out, when you grabbed them harshly by the hair, feeling all vigilante for some reason. Maybe it was your badass costume.

"Apologize to her," you insisted.

"We're s-sorry," they stammered.

"Now piss off and pray to whatever devil it is you worship that I never see you again," you threatened them in the most calm tone you could muster.

They did just that and damn, did you feel amazing.

"Thank you so much!" the girl exclaimed and gave you a spontaneous hug.

"No problem, girls gotta stick together, right?"

"You are like my hero! We should exchange numbers and hang out sometime!" she suggested excitedly.

"Sure, that'd be fun. What's your name?"

"Scarlett," she smiled.

You laughed to yourself. Oh, the irony.

"What's so funny?"

"It's a long story," you shrugged. "I'll tell it to you someday."

After a while, your new friend left the event and you were once again on your own. You wondered if you should text Seonghwa. You really missed him and meeting this girl made you wish you'd hear his side of the story. Then, as if by magic, your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Matching costumes. We're making a habit out of it."

You looked up and saw…Batman.

"Seonghwa?" you blinked in surprise.

"I'm Batman," he insisted. "Sorry, I've always wanted to say that."

You had a hard time suppressing the urge to laugh out loud.

"The Darth Vader trick only works once. If you wanted to get me to talk, you should have come up with something new," you teased him, pretending as if his mere presence was bothering you.

"I get it," he nodded. "But I'm not asking you to talk. Can you hear me out instead?"

You nodded, as you had already made up your mind to give him a second chance. But he didn't have to know that yet.

"All of what Hongjoong and Yunho told you is true. I did punch the guys who were terrorizing you and countless other women and tried to make sure they get banned from Comic Con. And, indeed, prior to our meeting, we became online friends while I was posing under the name of Scarlett. But that's as far as my deception goes. I wasn't stalking you or anything. It just so happened that I saw you having a rough time and really didn't want you to experience such negative emotions at Comic Con. Because I know what that's like. I know I probably seem confident to you now but I wasn't like that always. I've dealt with my fair share of insecurities and shitty people who put me down. And I really care about you and couldn't bear the thought of watching you suffer. I admit, I kept the bullies thing a secret from you and while we texted online I lied about my name being Scarlett. But I never lied to you about my feelings. I genuinely love you, Y/N, and I want to spend the rest of my days making it up to you."

You were sincerely touched by his words and you believed he was telling the truth. However, after going through so much, you wanted to keep him on his toes just a little longer.

"Funny thing happened earlier at this event. I saw those two bullies from Comic Con again."

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Seonghwa was immediately worried.

"I'm fine. They were harassing a girl and I stood up for her, easily getting rid of them."

"That's so amazing, Y/N, I'm proud of you!"

"I felt pretty proud of myself, too. But that's not even the craziest part. Can you guess what her name was?"

"Um…no?"

"Scarlett."

"No way," Seonghwa laughed.

"Well, whether you believe it or not doesn't matter. She reminded me of you. Even if you hadn't showed up, all Batman style, I still would have messaged you and tried to fix things between us."

"I'm so happy to hear that, sweetheart," Seonghwa placed his hands on your arms gently.

You took off his mask and then your own.

"Let's start over, yeah? No masks, no secrets, just honesty. How does that sound?"

"I'd like that very much," he grinned softly.

"For the record, I love you, too. And I'm not mad anymore. I understand why you did what you did."

"Well, you know what they say? All is fair in love and war," Seonghwa smirked.

"And Star Wars," you added.

"Especially Star Wars," Seonghwa chuckled.

"Hi, my name is Y/N," you extended your hand. "It's nice to meet you. I'm looking forward to getting to know you."

"Hi, I'm Seonghwa," he took your hand and shook it.

"It suits you better than any other name," you told him honestly.

"Have I ever told you what it means?"

"I don't think so," you admitted.

"You'll really like it. It's related to stars…"

The End

[bohemian-nights]

How do Targies unironically praise T@rgaryen blood purity like legit white supremacists and then deny there's any racism there?? Please make it make sense

Honestly liking the Targaryens isn’t the problem(and at this point, I'm pretty sure we all like a Targaryen or two).

Yeah, they undoubtedly have some bad views as a whole, but as long as you acknowledge that their views are an allegory for real issues that’s fine.

We aren’t necessarily defined by the fiction we consume.

However, these fans outright taking on white supremacist talking points about blood supremacy and blood purity with 100% sincerity and then being confused as to why people are calling them racist is a mind trip.

If all you are getting from the books is how special and magical the Targaryen’s are and how they must keep the bloodline pure, how outsiders dirty the blood, and then use that to degrade and mock characters(and harass their fans) who aren’t silver-haired with purple eyes then yeah, you’re a fucking racist.

GRRM is admittedly not the best at handling race(or even certain female characters). He’s an old white man and it shows, but even he didn’t create this universe for you guys to spout out this crap. You are supposed to question things like feudalism and Targaryen exceptionalism not uphold it.

Nettles is a prime example of this, but they want to say she’s Daemon’s kid, or unquestionably Valyrian, and how she’s irrelevant since she’s Black(not to mention deny the racism she faces in the text as well as outside of it) rather than admit that maybe your blood, your gender(she’s a woman too but they always seem to forget that), your social economic status, your race does not define you. You and your actions do.

That all being said, I do think the Targaryen ideology is what attracts people to the house in the first place, but they won’t admit this because that means they have to confront their own biases.

If Targaryen ideology is harmful and you agree with it wholeheartedly what does that make you? How do you view people who are different than you? Who do you view as beneath you? How do you treat people who you view as lesser than you?

Yes this is all fictional, but the language being used is very much based on how they feel about certain groups in real life.

Look I’ve seen people straight up say things like there are too many Black people on HOTD and that the only in-canon Black character should be cut because they’ve met their quota and then cry that they are being (rightfully) called racists.

I’ve seen people say that since Daemon rejected a white woman(Alys) who they view as better than her(Nettles) he would for sure never touch Nettles’ with a ten-foot pole much less love her in a romantic capacity and then cry that they are now being called a racist.

I’ve seen people purposely reduce characters solely down to their race and then cry that they are now being called a racist.

I’ve seen people harass and stalk actual Black fans and then cry and say that they are being bullied when we call them out for it.

I’ve seen people outright use racial slurs then the fanbase brushes that aside to say that the racism is limited to just a few individuals when many of these same people are using the previous arguments and treat real-life fans like crap.

Racism isn't limited to saying I hate n-words and wanting to commit acts of violence upon us.

It’s easier to say you aren’t a racist than to deal with the very real possibility that you are a part of the problem. That you treat people(including fictional characters) who don’t look like you like absolute shit because of something as stupid as the color of their skin. That you view them as so beneath you that we don’t deserve basic respect.

It should be noted that Targaryren fans aren't the only racists in this fandom especially when it comes to Black characters/fans, but they are the most outright hostile to the point where it is utterly ridiculous when they say they aren't racist.

But what do I know? I’m just a crazy hating ass bitch who’s out of her depth and who should shut her trap…

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Greek Tragedy

A/N: I got this idea today and spent hours just writing this. Frat boy Steve is just such an interesting character and honestly, I think I might do more one-shot, small stories with him depending on the reception of this story. Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Frat!Steve Rogers x F!Reader Word count: 6,017 words Warnings: Groping/sexual assault (big trigger), swearing, mentions of hazing, alcohol

Summary: Steve's fraternity takes everything seriously (as they should). They don't mess around with anything happening to any girl on their watch. But what happens when a girl in a sorority they're close with, who happens to be the one Steve watches over, finds herself in an extremely drastic, upsetting situation?

Steve didn’t really want to be here. But he also understood the deeper importance of this whole operation set up by a group under risk management. No one here wanted any girl to get hurt, let alone one in the sorority they happened to partner with the most. A girl getting hurt at the frat party they hosted because there weren’t more precautions was Greek life suicide. It was practically a frat digging their own hole, six feet deep.

“Rogers you’re on-“

“Y/N.” He finished before Sam could finish his own sentence. It was the same girl for every event, something that he had grown fond of the more he had gotten to know you. Not that you really needed him, the feisty little thing you were. Most of the time when a “problem” came up (AKA a random guy harassing you) you stood up for yourself with ease. Quick remarks and a heavily judgmental face were all you needed to fend off most guys.

His fondness of you would have not been known, however, if it wasn’t for Bucky in the corner with a smirk on his face staring at Steve, and in return guys around him catching on with small smiles at Steve. He really had to hold back a eye roll, knowing that would only entertain them more.

“Again, if you need to go do something where you can’t see the girl you’re assigned to, you ask another brother. Got it?” Everyone replied with a simple “got it” somewhat out of sequence. “Now don’t fuck up tonight. Some of you have gotten way too close to losing a girl. Don’t let it happen.” Everyone nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”

Steve got up similarly with Sam, gathering up the papers that outlined this meeting. Bucky made his way over, filing through the various guys either talking, heading towards the door, or up to their rooms. Despite the whole idea of “brotherhood” no one ever thought of helping Sam and Steve clean up after these, excluding Bucky. “You guys ready for tonight?” Bucky asked. Sam was quick to speak up.

“Never.” He replied, “I swear if I see one more drunk girl on our porch sobbing over her ex-boyfriend I’m going to resign.” Steve chuckled. “Hey, don’t be laughing when you always get the easy one to deal with.”

“Yeah, Y/N actually helps those girls. Makes our lives easier.”

Steve could recall many times you happened to be at their parties, walking outside to get a breath of fresh air. You were always overwhelmingly kind to the pledges they had on “this door is not an entrance duty”, sometimes even aiding them in telling guys to fuck off. Then you would inevitably see a girl on the ground crying her heart out, and not only offer your time but usually your lap to let her cry into. Steve recalls one time when you actually got thrown up on by another one of your sorority sisters who was going through an awful breakup with a guy who didn’t deserve to see the light of day after all the shit he pulled on her. That ended with you in his room with a pair of his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts on.

“Thanks again, Steve.” You said with a smile so big it gave away any indication of soberness. “These sweatpants are very comfy.” He smiled softly back at you.

“Any time.” He replied, “I wasn’t gonna have you walking around in those clothes.” You nodded at him.

“Could I stay up here for another minute or two?” You asked, “I don’t mean to intrude but I’m kinda overwhelmed with downstairs-“ He nodded before you could even finish your sentence. His room happened to be incredibly well kept for a frat guy, especially since it actually smelled decent. A made bed, clean desk, the only clutter were the piles of text books stacked in a corner and a couple different papers here and there.

“Of course.” He replied quickly. You nodded back, “Do you need water or anything?”

“A water would be great actually if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not,” He smiled, “I’ll be right back, stay put sweetheart.”

It was the sweetheart that really took your breath away. I mean, Steve had always been the type that was just pure eye candy. Every girl left and right at least acknowledged that they would like to have something with him through small moments when their eyes laser-focused on him. Some even being drawn closer to where he stood, typically near a wall talking to Bucky or Sam with a drink in his hand. But here he was acknowledging some form of admiration towards little old you. The girl who was found at parties and was secretly looking at guys, but was too busy with her friends to realize it wasn’t that they didn’t like her back, she just never gave any signals.

That night ended up with the two of you staying in his room and talking until the early morning hours when you finally declared that you needed to go back to your apartment, especially while your roommates were flooding your phone with every form of communication to make sure you were okay. Steve was quick to order you a car and pay for it, even after offering to have you stay in his bed and he would take the couch. But you were sobering up and knew going home was a better option. Sleeping in the bed of the guy you happened to really like was enticing, but far too quick for you.

“How many guys do we think we’ll let in tonight?” Bucky asked. He happened to pretty consistently be on entrance duty, considering he could quickly put on a harsh and powering demeanor to tell guys to leave and never come back if he needed to.

“Hopefully not many,” Sam replied with a sigh, “Let in any guy that you know, and depending on how many girls we have, let in a couple more. But you already know the ratio.” “75 to 25.” Bucky smiled a bit, leaning against the doorframe to the chapter room.

Steve was placing the final folding chairs in the closet of the room, the key in his pocket ready to lock up. “You sure you doing alright?” He heard Bucky come up behind him. It just happened that Bucky knew Steve better than he knew himself at times, a blessing and curse the two of them had learned to live with through their years together.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, grabbing the key from his pocket and turning it in the lock. Giving it one solid pull and the door not budging, Steve placed the key back in his pocket and began walking towards the stairs, Bucky right next to him.

“Ya sure? You seem a little nervous.” Steve held back a scoff that would have worked on anyone else, but not Bucky.

“Not sure nervous is the right word.” Steve countered, checking the time quickly on his watch. Two hours til doors opened.

“About Y/N?” Bucky asked. Steve sighed.

“She’s-“ He began, stopping himself as his thoughts were running in all different directions. “Buck, you know I’m not good with women.”

“Yeah, and you’re into a girl who doesn’t think she’s good with men.” He softly chuckled, Steve scrunching his eyebrows. “Trust me, I’ve talked to enough of the girls when they’re drunk and I’ve heard all about her drunk thoughts. She has no confidence with men.”

“She’s stunning.”

“I know, but women get called ugly once and it’s all over, man.” Bucky explained as the two began to head up the stairs, “Just be genuine, not over pushy, just nice and respectful. She thinks any attractive guy that talks to her is doing it as a joke.”

“She seems so confident.”

“She is until it comes to men.” Bucky said, “Trust me on this, I’ve had three different drunk girls in that sorority tell me the same thing. But they’ve also told me she’s super into you. Take that for what you will.” He left down the hall towards his own room with a smile.

Steve had his eyes on you from the moment you walked in. Fashionably late as always, and clearly having pregamed a decent bit, or else you wouldn’t be dancing so freely and up against a friend like no one was watching. He was hoping no one was, but him.

That damn tight crop top really pushed your breasts up to a point where he questioned if one wrong move would even hold them in. And the tight shorts that shaped your figure perfectly left just enough distance covered on your upper things to wonder how they looked underneath. Your makeup was consistent and natural, except for your eyeshadow which you always put glitter on. By the end of the night your mascara would be smudged and lipstick nonexistent, and even then you made that look curated and like you were made for it.

“You gonna go talk to her or keep staring?” Sam came up with a smile, drunkenly dancing his way through the crowd. For a fraternity president, he was oddly charismatic to everyone and hadn’t established a superiority complex over the title. Steve gave him an eyeing glance.

“Letting her have her fun.” He justified.

“Hm.” Sam questioningly asked looking back at her, drawing Steve’s attention back to you as well. There was a guy clearly trying to dance with you, nearing a desperate level. You didn’t really notice until he got a little too close, which resulted in him getting a really passive aggressive look from you of pure silent judgement that was borderline screaming at him. Steve let it be. If he touched you, then it would be a problem. But Steve knew you could handle yourself, very well actually.

Sam trusted Steve, more than any other guy here. Even Bucky, who would occasionally let his guard down if a pretty enough girl came up to him. But Steve- he would completely ignore the prettiest girl in the world if it meant someone else was in trouble.

You weren’t really sure which drink you were on, but at this point you didn’t really care. The mediocre tasting seltzer in your hand had the after taste of gasoline, but it was making you feel even better than before, which was enough justification for your already intoxicated mind and body to keep drinking them. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Steve against one of the walls talking to Sam. You turned more towards that way to observe them. Steve’s tight dark blue shirt and jeans were making your mind react in only instinctual ways. A blush crept on your face making it even more red on top of your makeup and the heat from dancing shoulder to shoulder with other people. Your thighs tightened together as you bit the inside of your cheek.

But Steve Rogers was way out of your league. Whether you were drunk or sober, you knew you were simply not pretty enough to get him. Well, that’s at least what your mind was convincing you. All your friends always gawked over how gorgeous you were, and how you could pull him. But the ghost of ugly girls pasts kept you from advancing in the realm of Steve Rogers and stayed at bay with the weird barely friendship you two had established.

Besides, most guys just wanted to fuck you once and leave. Not that Steve seemed the type to do that, but you couldn’t tell nowadays with the number of guys who had said no to you after disclosing you wanted more than just sex.

“Babe!” You heard one of your friends shouting over the music. You turned to her, “Let’s get another drink!” Pulled out of your trance you nodded, grabbing her hand and weaving your way through the crevices between sweaty bodies dancing like no one was around them. You patiently waited in the line for the bar still swaying your hips back and forth to the fading music, mouthing the words you knew in the song.

A hand on your shoulder pulled you away from the mind-lifting music and into a face-to-face situation with a guy you had already dealt with tonight. Clearly, your glaring at him wasn’t enough for him to acknowledge that you had no interest in him. “What do you want?” You asked with an annoyed expression, your tone of voice accenting that.

“Damn, why are you being so mean?” He asked, “I’m just interested in you, why’re you in such a bad mood, baby?” You got a large amount of ick from the conversation alone, but the detail of ‘baby’ only set your annoyance off even more. “I don’t owe it to be nice to a guy I’ve never met,” You explained, “Let alone one who I’m not attracted to. At all.” You made it very clear. “Now if you’ll excuse me-“

“What, you got a boyfriend or something?” He snarked back, getting closer to you.

“Like that’s any of your business.” You countered, “Now fuck off because you’re not getting anything out of me, ever. I wish you luck on finding any pussy tonight, you’re definitely going to need it.” You didn’t even notice the crowd swarming around you but a sudden eruption of “oohs” took over and made you realize that you had successfully publicly humiliated another desperate guy. He gave you a look of fury and stormed off in another direction leaving his confidence and dignity in your back pocket.

Thankfully, the guy running the bar quickly recognized you. Being in a sorority had it’s many perks, but getting drinks at the bar of a frat you knew well was one of them. He immediately gave you a hefty pour and a smile, “That was badass.” He added on. You smiled back at him and took your drink, departing back to the dance floor with your friend.

As soon as you reentered, Steve had eyes on you again. You looked more annoyed than before, not an amazing sign, but according to a text he had gotten from Scott, who was bartending, you had just embarrassed a random dude in front of two dozen people flawlessly, and verbally kicked his ass. So your current state was by no means shocking.

He promptly decided this was his time to at least let you know he was here. He slowly guided his way through people, trying to not knock over girls while not really caring about the guys, and finally placed his hand on the small of your back. Bold, yes, but he didn’t want to completely startle you with a shoulder tap or yell.

“What the fuck-“ You quickly turned around with a face of once again annoyance, before realizing it was him. As soon as your eyes met his your face melted back into one of apology. “Oh my- Steve I’m so sorry!” You yelled over the music. He chuckled to himself, smiling at you.

“It’s okay,” He replied quickly, giving you a quick up and down now that he was closer to you. Your boobs somehow looked even better than before. He also had the realization that red truly was your color, it looked amazing with your skin tone and hair, and even better when it was tightly wrapped fabric around your chest. “I heard what happened at the bar, I understand.”

You groaned loudly, “So everyone saw that?”

“Not everyone, but a lot of people.” He smirked. “It’s alright, keep it up and we may just have to make you an honorary member.”

“Will I have to pledge?” You asked with a small smile, “That may be a deal breaker.”

“I would never let a woman go through what the pledges go through,” He explained, “Let alone a pretty one.” It just slipped out. You tried to hide the shock in your eyes with a smile on your face, but your brain was clearly malfunctioning when you heard that. “If you need anything tonight, you know where to find me.” He said, motioning towards the wall right next to the main entrance to the floor. You nodded as he gave you one more smile and left back to that area.

“He wants you so bad.” One of your friends quickly spoke up with a big smile, “His eyes were all over you, they were practically undressing you!”

“Yeah, that’s probably all he wants.” You replied knowing how guys were nowadays with relationships.

“Oh please, that’s Steve Rogers. Yeah, he could get whatever girl he wants, but the one he actually wants he’s gonna stay with.” She replied, “He’s the definition of a golden retriever, absolutely gorgeous and loyal as hell.”

Steve knew something was coming. His intuition read the room he was in and told him there was going to be something tonight. There was every night, it was just more a question of how drastic it was going to be. Judging by the fact the guys not in the frat were getting rowdy, the number of girls who had run past him with a friend to puke in the bathroom, and the growing line outside of underage first years who were apparently trying to start stuff with the door guys, it was just a matter of time until something boiled over its pot and into flames.

“What’s up?” He asked Sam who approached him with a stern face. Unlike earlier, soberness seemed to consume Sam as he stood next to Steve.

“Too many bastards harassing girls.” He sighed. “None with any of our girls that seriously, yet.” He emphasized. Steve nodded, going back to eyeing everyone on the dance floor, his eye now more narrowly looking than before. “Not sure how you could show up to someone’s else fraternity and be a dick like that. We don’t even do that in our own house.” Steve didn’t have a response for that question, but even if he did he was far too busy making sure any of the girls he knew didn’t find themselves in that situation. Specifically, you.

“Have we stopped letting guys in?” Steve asked, not changing his gaze away from the crowd.

“Yeah, a while back.” Sam replied, “A lot of them have been here since we opened though.” Steve chuckled.

“Desperation.” He smiled at Sam and Sam smiled back.

“Yeah, we got a lot of that tonight.” Sam sighed, turning over to the two of three couples of sorts making out in various corners. “Wish I had that much absence of dignity.” Steve smiled at that. If he was going to do anything with a woman it would never be this public. Two people were meant to have those moments together, not have the world there to frown down on it or comment on it. In his mind, this frayed some of the little purity left in relationships.

“Fuck,” He heard Sam mutter besides him, glancing at his phone. Steve gave him a questioning look, “Apparently the guys outside have made the mistake of not backing off of Barnes, gotta go aid.” Steve nodded as Sam departed the other way.

Steve’s heart sank as soon as he looked back to the floor and spotted you. The guy from earlier tonight, and the one he assumed had tried to talk to you at the bar, was now way too close to comfort. Within a second, Steve had begun navigating the floor knowing the loser wouldn’t leave you alone until someone else came in. His mind was busy with finding you, but his body was distracted by trying to get by people. Despite the fact he was known here, and the mass space his body took up, everyone was far too drunk to even take a slight hint he was there.

“Are you fucking crazy?” He heard a yell that he could easily identify was your voice. That cry for help put his mind in overdrive, and onto aggressive autopilot. Now he was shoving dudes left and right and could give a shit if he stepped on some girl's shoes. As soon as he found you, there was a small circle around you and the guy as you fired off insult after insult berating him. Steve was still lost at what was fully happening, or more importantly how the situation had escalated to where it stood now, but that was very quickly revealed in your unapologetic monologue.

“What the fuck made you think it was okay to grab my ass you dick!” Before Steve could even process fully what you had said, the clearly clueless culprit across from you responded, somehow thinking that was a good idea.

“With the shorts you’re wearing you’re basically asking for it!”

Now that set Steve off.

All you could see at this point was red, but before you even got a chance to slap this guy, he was pinned up against a wall. There was some yelling in the background calling for backup or something along those lines, but all you could focus on was Steve’s back flexing under his shirt that was far too tight for this moment and the side of his face showcasing a clenched jaw bone protruding past his skin and redefining his face into pure rage. “What the fuck did you just say to her?” He asked, holding onto the collarbone of the guys t-shirt in clenched fists, veins about to pop.

For the first time all night, the harassing dick was left truly speechless. “Say it one more time to me, huh? I fucking dare you.” Steve started again.

“Steve, let him go.” Sam’s voice bellowed behind you. It was an order, and one that took Steve a moment to process. He slowly dropped the guy and backed up only a step, letting him regain him place standing against the wall. He looked tiny compared to Steve. “He’s not worth it.” Sam said, approaching besides him. “Now you, get the fuck out and never come back.” Sam told the other guy, pointing firmly towards the door.

He seemingly put his hands up in surrender, before making yet again a dumb move. Possibly his most stupid of the night. “It was worth it.”

Not even a second later, the guy was on the floor, clutching his face as the crowd around you “ooh”ed yet again. This time not for you, but Steve. His right fist clung to his side as it had just been weaponized across the guy’s face and straight into his cheek and nose. The impact could be heard from the back of the room you bet, and left you speechless, mouth agape as you stared at your perpetrator on the floor, and back to Steve.

“Barnes, take Y/N upstairs. Now.” He looked back to where Bucky stood a few feet from you, he quickly nodded beelining to you and putting his arm around your waist.

“You alright, hon?” Bucky asked, but you were too entranced still with looking back at Steve. Despite Bucky moving you away and your feet following, you still stared back at Steve with the same expression of worry and surprise. It clearly took Steve a minute to figure out what exactly he had done, then he turned back to you.

As soon as your eyes met, his face relaxed. His brain was still furious, his body stiff with rage, but his face was now worried. He was able to at least know you would be safe with Bucky, you would either end up in his room or Steve’s, but either way you would be physically okay now. Then he turned back to Sam who already had guys escorting whatever the fuck he was out with firm shoves. “I need to check on her.” Was the first thing he could muster out and say.

“Calm down, Steve.” Sam tried to rationalize. “She’s with Buck, she’s okay.”

“I need to see her.” He said again.

“Steve,” Sam grabbed his arm this time, trying to pull him back to reality. “Go downstairs. Breath. Then come back and I’ll see what I can do.”

It took Steve another moment to process what Sam was saying, his vision still outlined with red. As soon as he understood, however, he nodded and made his way to the door. He couldn’t even bother to look at nor care about everyone staring at him, bodies making a very clear path for him to get by. He made it to the stairs, walking down slowly. The basement was empty, he was glad they kept it that way. There were a few old recliners here and there, a partially ripped couch, and some old photo albums and collages of pictures stacked in various places.

He took a seat in one of the old leather chairs, placing his head in his hands. He was always composed, had a clean record here from everything. He didn’t have an ounce of regret, at least yet, but he was aware of how escalated he made the situation. Though he wouldn’t change any moment of it. Other than protecting you from that happening in the first place.

He just wanted- needed you to be okay. He needed you. He had never acted this way with anyone else. Yes, he would stand up for any girl. But he wasn’t sure if he would fight for any girl other than you.

“Peter, water. Now.” Bucky demanded the smaller guy who stood in the doorway. He feverishly nodded before running off past the doorway and towards the stairs.

“Pledge?” You asked Bucky. He smiled.

“How did you know.” You lightly laughed, sitting on his bed in his slightly messy room. It was actually very nice for a frat room, but for a regular room, subpar. His walls were decorated here and there with nearly nude women who either had advanced plastic surgery or had a poor editor somewhere slaving over Photoshop for hours to make them look better than Barbie. His bed was honestly not all that comfy, and you wouldn’t have been shocked if the mattress under the comforter and sheets had been hand-me-down in the frat for years.

“How are you feeling?” He asked with genuine concern.

“Alright,” You said with a shaky breath, “Just- shocked, I think.” He softly smiled, kneeling down in front of you to be on your eye level.

“Can I get you anything else? I can order you food, if you wanna lay down that’s fine too-"

“No, Buck. It’s okay, really.” You lightly smiled. You had suddenly very much sobered up. “Maybe food in a bit. Though I don’t know how much I can eat right now.” He sympathetically nodded. The room fell silent for a few seconds. “Where’s Steve?” You asked. Before Bucky could even acknowledge what you had asked, Peter came back.

“Here’s the water for you,” He said handing to Bucky, “James Buchanan Barnes.” You had to hold back a laugh as Peter exited the room again. Bucky handed you the water.

“Do you really make pledges call you guys by your full names?” Bucky nodded with a small smile.

“Tradition.” You rolled your eyes at that. “Steve is downstairs I think, basement.” Bucky replied, “That’s where Sam sends guys when they need to calm down.”

“So this shit happens frequently?”

“No, and you know that.” He playfully said back, sitting next to you on the bed. “But sometimes stuff happens between guys. So it's a decompression area. Not much down there, so it’s nice if anyone needs to punch something.” You nodded.

Another minute of silence fell between the two of you. You sipping the water from the red solo cup, Bucky looking around the room and back at you every once in a while.

“You know Steve really likes you.” Bucky pointed out. You gave him a confused face. “He would kill me for telling you, probably will. But he really likes you, more than any other girl I’ve seen. And I’ve seen lots of women around him.”

“You’re joking.” You replied, “That’s cruel, Bucky."

“No, I would not lie to you.” He replied seriously, “Especially after tonight.” You looked up at him again, eyes meeting in a silent lock of sorts. “Just trust me, give him a chance. I know you like him too. Be the first move, it’ll pay off. Trust me.”

There was a soft knock at the door, its hinges creaking as it opened and Sam walked in. He gave you a soft smile. “We wrapped up the party.” Sam said, “Not many people left over down there anyways.” You cringed a bit to yourself, but before you could say anything Sam continued, “And don’t you dare apologize, it’s not your fault. At all.”

Bucky’s hand grazed your back in a circular motion, a silent agreement with Sam. “You can wait in his room if you want,” Sam mentioned, “Or stay here.”

“No, I want to see him.” You replied, “I can uh- head over there.” You told Sam, getting up and turning to Bucky where he still sat. “Thanks again, Bucky. Really.”

“Least I could do.” He insisted with a tight smile, “Good luck.”

Sam led you to Steve’s room even though you already knew where it was. His was a corner room, vice president privileges you supposed. He opened it with a spare key, letting you in and turning on the light. It was kept as it always was. It smelled like soft cologne that didn’t sting the corner of your nostrils when you inhaled. Like mahogany, whiskey, and a hint of vanilla. What he always smelled like.

His bed was strictly made, making you hesitant to sit on it despite Sam telling you it was more than fine. It would crease it, and you weren’t sure if that was more of an invasion than what you had already been. The bed was shockingly comfortable, clearly a new mattress and topper. His closet doors were closed, and a laundry hamper next to it was only half full. His desk was clear except for a lamp in the corner, a closed laptop in the center, and a notebook next to that with two or three pens. His walls were pretty bare, which honestly made you feel uncomfortable. You thought it was better than Bucky’s walls scattered with various unrealistically perfect and nearly naked women, but the walls in the bedroom of your apartment were scattered with posters and pictures.

He had exactly three pictures in the room. One on his nightstand of him, Sam, and Bucky with arms around each other and smiling on some form of a retreat or vacation. One of him and Bucky as little kids, no older than six or seven you guessed. And finally, one of him and his mom at some fancy event judging by her dress and his suit. He looked to be in late high school there.

He looked a lot like his mom. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Her face was much softer than his, which made sense judging by how muscular his body frame was built to be. She had a beautiful blue dress on that accented both of them well, him in a simple suit with a black coat, white shirt, and black tie. You knew he loved his mom dearly, especially since he was raised as a child with just her. You recall during one of those late night conversations it coming up. He talked so highly of his mom, the way he still called her multiple times a week just to talk and check in. Her food and the traditions the two had made for Christmas and Thanksgiving when they spent it alone. How much he hated leaving her for college, feeling like he abandoned her, but her reassuring messages over the phone saying anything but that. You wished you had a relationship like that with your mom, but then again, you had an amazing dad. You win some, you lose some, as you had always reminded yourself.

You were drawn away from your stare towards the photo on his desk as the door opened, and there stood Steve. His face was unreadable, something that scared you in the moment. “Hey, um I’m sorry, Sam suggested I wait here for you-"

Before you finished he was kneeling in front of you as Bucky did not so long ago meeting your eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked with such a genuine tone. His hand placed itself on your cheek, engulfing it. You nodded with a small smile.

“Yeah, I will be.” He took a small sigh looking down.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier.”

“Steve, no-“ You were quick to reply as he stood up.

“No, that should’ve never happened. And I should’ve been there to throw that guy out way earlier.”

“Steve, you did more than I could’ve asked for-“

“You shouldn’t have to ask me to do anything. I should be there to protect you, be proactive about it-"

You quickly stood up, interrupting his rant by grabbing his face with your hands and pulling him down as you stood on your tip toes to your best ability, placing your lips on his.

For a moment he was frozen, before realizing what was happening and kissing back. He quickly took one of his arms fallen at his side and wrapped it behind your waist, pulling you promptly so your body fell flush with his, pressed against his shirt. His other hand found the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair as one of yours found its way to his own. After a solid 10 seconds, you pulled away a bit, looking up at him as you caught your breath.

“I’m not drunk, I promise.” You told him, watching his wandering eyes scan your face. Without a word of response, he placed his lips on yours again moving synchronously. You reveled in the moment, feeling his body heat surround you, your senses at all new heights, his wandering finger tips on your back causing you to move even closer to him, a sign of encouragement. After a minute or two of the necessity of a make up session, a silent reconciliation and agreement that everything would be alright, you both pulled away.

Both of you smiled at the same time, then laughing a bit at that, and finally finding comfort in each other’s arms. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” You asked him. He looked down to you again with a small smile creeping on his face.

“Yeah,” He replied, “Tomorrow.”

Without a word more spoken, you sat back on his bed, removing your beer and dirt-stained shoes, he went to his dresser and grabbed one of his t-shirts and sweatpants, handing them to you. “I can change in the bathroom.” He insisted. You gave a small smile of appreciation as he left the room with his own change of clothes and closed the door.

You quickly removed the constricting top that had nearly become one with your skin, placing his shirt on and sweatpants. He came back with a knock, you replying with a “you can come in”.

He let you choose the side of the bed you wanted, which happened to be the one closer to the window. He climbed in next to you, allowing the small lamp in the corner to stay on but turning off the one next to him. There was distance at first, quickly closed by you as you rejected the pillow on your side for his chest, placing your head on it, one of your hands sprawling to the other side of him. He placed one of his hands on your back, pulling you tighter and beginning to trace small shapes on the fabric and to your skin. He gave you a soft kiss on your temple, holding it there for a few seconds.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[horizon-verizon]

There is something funny about the fact that unlike most of the other bullied or abused characters, Aemond is bullied not out of misogyny or ableism or homophobia or parentage, but simply because he's "bullyable" and Alicent never put a stop to it on either end. Because any other Targaryen in his place would have been like, "Yeah I'm in a brothel. So are you. So what if I was feeling a little... nostalgic tonight. Now go away, I already paid for a second round."

But then again, not EVERY Targaryen. And that's where it gets kind of dark. Because the writing itself wants us to have far more sympathy for Aemond in that circumstance, than for Rhaenyra at the same age being accosted by Alicent for her own brothel visit, and this time Alicent has bigotry behind her.

And that's what annoys me with how the show wants you to sympathize with Aemond for being "uniquely" bullied. Because he's not. Because in the episode he's introduced, we're shown how Rhaenyra, Laenor, and their sons are being harassed and outright abused for misogyny, homophobia, and parentage, by adults wielding actual power. Hell, Viserys and Aegon are getting more elder and child abused than Aemond is in that episode. And I find it kind of fucked up that... the writers see the one character who isn't harassed or abused for being vulnerable or marginalized as the true "victim" in that regard.

I'm going to be honest with you. I have not seen this episode so aside form the fact that I know Aemond gets mocked by Aegon at the same brothel Dyana works at. HOWEVER, yes, the show has been doing stuff like this since at least episode 3 or 4. With Rhaenys speaking with Rhaenyra and acting as a sort of diegetic mouthpiece against Rhaenyra for not basically acting as if she has no chance of actually becoming queen. The show places her as the "voice of reason" when she herself has lost her seat bc a man, her own grandfather, made it happen--effectively justifying how misogyny doesn't really matter as much as conforming to the status quo and its threat of violence so you can avoid violence from said status quo...

Or how the Velaryons are apparently paternity tests to use against Rhaenyra's supposed proclivities as if Aegon isn't also having bastards he leaves to fight each other in pits.

This is what we mean when we say unchecked, patronizing sexism is built into the very ethos of this show as well as the moral standard the show is structuring all of its characters and the value of their actions on. This is pretty much what capitalism does--provide a sort of "space" or are of focus for its consumers, pretending that they are pointing out a discrimination when they are really using the consumer's extant biases already socially trained and advertised to them since childhood to sell the product. Makes for seemingly rationally written TV when it's all just shallow trash with glitter on it trying to to seem meagingful or making meaning.

[tohconfessions]

I'ma just go ahead and say it

LUNTER IS INHERENTLY THE WORSE SHIP IN TOH

and I could go on a whole 90 minute yt video essay cause I'm very passionate about hating this ship but I'd probably get harassed so here are my reasons!!

1. It's so obvious that Luz is supposed to parallel Belos and not Evelyn

As much a people wanna say "Luz introduced Hunter to magic!!" NO THE FUCK SHE DIDN'T?? Hunter preexisting knew about magic she just introduced the concept of glyphs you dummy

A personal theory of mines is that no one in the show is supposed to express Evelyn, no Luz, not Willow, no one, and it's so damn annoying when lunter stans use it as a point to justify their nonsensical ship,

"L-Luz introduced Hunter to magic and Evelyn did the same to Caleb and Caleb and Evelyn fell in love so erm actually now they're dating!1!!"

SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPPPP

2. The ship is borderline homophobic

Just to clear the way Hunter and Luz both being bisexual has nothing to do with the ship being homophobic so I'll just set that straight

The reason why IT IS HOWEVER is because Dana not only made the show for obvious reasons cause it was a passion project, BUT TO NORMALIZE FUCKING GAY RELATIONSHIPS ON KIDS TV, I don't mean to sound like a "they're getting in the way of the gay ship" BUT LUMITY IS LITERALLY THE MAIN SHIP OF THE FUCKING SHOW

Lumity was already canon in s3, end of s2, became canon in the middle of s2, and preexisted before as a concept before the show probably even FUCKING AIRED

And like yeah that's kinda like the tip of the iceberg on how lunter is like the worst ships over besides Amity x Hunter which is literally lesbianphobia and Hunter x Gus which is lowkey proship but like yeah I'm really passionate on this opinion ngl

Idk man, I’m kind of tired of Lunter confessions, everyone reblog this post with your favourite Huntceda fanart (I swear y’all don’t show this amount of hatred too actual problematic ships)

[kitkatopinions]

TW: Sucide, toxic relationship, slavery, abuser and victim

My biggest pet peeve with stans regardless of the fandom they are in is always "you would've like female character if they were a man" No. Just stop.

If you want the biggest example of everyone hating on a male character even if they swap genders is none other than GOT Jeffrey.

That spoiled brat has no irredeemable qualities he's just a spoiled stuck up brat who everyone cheered when he died.

HOWEVER im not saying that there ISNT any misogyny towards female character/villains because no matter what fandom you are in there will be misogyny most towards fandom that has a large male fanbase (example Star Wars, Star Trek, Game of Thrones, Assassin's Creed, etc.)

Having a valid reason to hate a female character/villain is NOT misogyny. I hate Neo because the shows wants us to feel sorry for her because she didn't know what to do after Roman's death but are we forgetting an episode ago she DROVE RUBY TO SUCIDE USING PEOPLE SHE KNOW and then she redeemed herself by killing Cat?

FUCK THAT!

Regardless if Neo was a male anyone who drove someone to sucide will never be liked by me or anyone else.

Here's another one Leonora from Castlevanina is hated because she made Hector a slave and saw him as a pet yet she started to develop feelings for him the more time she spent with him. And many people are disgusted because 1) she enslaved Hector and then develop have feelings and 2) because of the obvious power imbalance/relationship of the abuser and victim.

If a character has a trait that triggers the audience or they don't like them for any actions then they can have a reason why they dislike not. I have many female characters that I hate with valid criticism just how much I hate male characters for that same reason.

Yeah, here's the thing, if I actually thought that anti-rwde posters were honestly concerned about misogyny, I would be very sympathetic.

Every single time a piece of media so much as passes the Bechdol test or has a woman that never wears a bikini, there are a bunch of misogynistic idiots and dudebros who hate it or those women. And in the modern day, only hardcore Trump supporters are out here out and out saying that they hate women and are misogynists and that's why they hate whatever it is they're ranting against. People do very much so use perfectly valid (or not so valid) "real criticisms" because they don't want to say the honest truth, or because they themselves wouldn't recognize their own misogyny. Recognizing that just because someone SAYS they hate a female character because of an action that they did doesn't mean they're not a misogynist is kind of important. The guys who harassed the actress of Rose Tico off of Twitter all hid behind 'valid reasons' for their criticism too.

But here's the thing:

1. It's important to be able to figure out what is and isn't actually a sign of misogyny. There's not a precise rule, but you can do things like see if the thing they hate is an exception or the rule, or see if they're hypocritical about their reasons, or see what kind of language people use. If they come around with "brat" "bitch" "cunt" for female characters, that's a red flag at best!! But yeah, ANY criticism of that kind of thing isn't automatically misogynistic. It's like yeah, a bunch of misogynists hated Taurial in the Hobbit because she's a woman and yes they disguised that by claiming it was for other reasons, but there ARE very valid criticisms and complaints about Taurial and you have to be willing to hear out those things instead if just blanket assigning 'misogyny.' Lots of things from Arcane to something as bad as Twilight has perfectly valid haters that are fine, and then also a bunch of misogynists that are going to pretend or really think they have valid reasons. Somone being unable to tell the two apart probably means that person is too close to the situation and too defensive, but these critics don't want to admit that maybe they're wrong.

2. If this was something like Steven Universe, then the defensiveness would make more sense. If it were a well written slow burn with a cast of characters with well rounded dynamics that the writers put work into and the show was about rebels trying to fight the system for a peaceful life and the show had never sexualized the women and there was hard-fought for groundbreaking queer rep and it was created by a Jewish bisexual non-binary woman, and there were mistakes and valid criticisms of the series, but also a lot of unjustified venom of nothing but bad-faith... Then we'd be having a different conversation. Instead it's a show about badge-carrying law enforcement officers, who fight the evil civil rights group from upsetting the status quo, in a show that has tons of things just 'happen off screen,' with a history of sexualizing some of the main female characters, that only recently confirmed any main character as queer years behind the curve, and that was created by and mostly written for by a bunch of straight cis men most of them having said or done misogynistic things. Anti-rwde posters like to pretend that there's no reason why a great completely non-problematic misunderstood stand-up show like RWBY made with love by the totally not at all a part of RT "CRWBY" should be hated, and therefore it must be because of misogyny, but they aren't living in reality.

3. Most anti-rwde posters actually don't really care about misogyny and they aren't actually basing this on - for lack of a better word - good faith. They don't care about Jaune harem fics or the fanarts of RWBY girls with giant breasts in bikinis, and they don't call out the writers or even RT for their bigotry, and they have quite literally Trump supporters that post anti-rwde stuff, but none of that matters. Instead they spend their time harassing a group of mostly queer women for *checks notes* criticizing a show written by mostly men.

So yeah. I've seen misogyny in rwde posters tbh, and I don't think that "I have valid reasons for disliking them" is always proof that there isn't misogyny at play, but the anti-rwde accusations are nothing, because not only are they blind to the flaws of the show and the writers and are unable to recognize the difference between misogyny and just criticism, but also they're only using these accusations as a screen anyway, because they only ever go after rwde posters with it and are unwilling to call out the blatant misogyny in the rest of the fandom, in the show, or in the writers room. I would take this seriously if I thought this was an actual concern of theirs, but it isn't. They don't actually care about misogyny, they just want their show to be above criticism.

(By the way, I've never seen Game of Thrones or Castlevania so I can't speak to it, and also I like Neo a lot lol. XD Personally for me, villains doing bad things doesn't typically blacklist them for me so long as they're entertaining.)

[gen9k-personal-posts]

Trump Won

Fuck yeah, America has redeemed itself a little in my eyes! Trump has won, people understand Biden was a poor choice and Chameleon Harry-ass- oop, I mean Kamila Harris or however you spell it (no I didn't) was backing him. Now he can clean the mess up, he'll only be able to do so much though thanks to the retards who cheated Biden in by covering the ballot windows, parking cars in front of the doors, and blatantly rigging it as if they didn't get caught when the machines supposedly "glitched" and got the same exact result after. Seriously, how the fuck doesn't our psychiatric system have these people locked in asylums? Isn't the requirements to be locked in psyche ward supposed to be whether or not their mental illness is harmful to others or themselves? I'd say burning flags on people's homes, rioting (Hillary election), Slandering people and harassing in mass to the point of causing a decline in mental health, attacking people in the streets for their political views, etc can all technically fall under harm to others. Even if half of it isn't outright assaulting people, it's still harmful to us as a society and as individuals. Still, it's so fucking amazing Trump made it in office, he has been nothing but helpful to America, I seriously can't wrap my head around these leftists priorities and hate. Let alone how often they like playing victim, at this point, it's shocking a civil war never broke out. With how much hate and childish shit was going on, I figured we'd throw hands and be done, of course I think its mainly because everyone's balls shrank in the wash lmao. Either way, here's hoping Kamila doesn't run next time, if she gets in office America is truly fucked. Nows our only chance to clean up and we should take it. Congratulations Trump, give em hell.