#cw. misogyny

[monaisdark]

KEN x READER

➵ cws; f!reader, noncon, misogyny, talk of virginities, unrequited feelings, slight thoughts of death at very end, reader is a doll, bad ken :( ➵ a/n; ken is definitely ooc but idc i need him carnally. wrote this so fast after seeing the movie (amazing btw) spoilers be warned!!! p.s inbox is open ^^

Barbie's plan is in motion, and it seems like everything is going perfectly. Dolls are getting un-brainwashed left and right, including you. The moment you snap out of your trance and look down to see the incredibly small pink skirt and lace top dawning on your body, you can’t ever believe you agreed to wear that when Beach Ken gave it to you from Stereotypical Barbie’s wardrobe.

Ken. The one who started this mess. The one had you serving brewski beers and listening to long explanations on stuff you pretended to care about. A certain emotion pooled in your would-be stomach.

The Ken you used to watch pine after Barbie so deeply, the one that you always tried to console when Barbie rejected his advances. Now he’s taken over her house; well, Barbieland in general. How could he?

As Stereotypical Barbie hugs and welcomes you back as you leave the van, a thought pipes in your head. Maybe he’s doing this because Barbie doesn’t want him. She was so headstrong, front and center in every party she hosted, her smile iconic in every way imaginable. And Ken… was always on the side. Whenever he danced with you at her parties, his eyes were glued to her.

It hits you, he thinks this will work. That maybe she’ll turn around and jump into his arms once she notices what a big, strong, man he is. It won’t work and you know. But, he doesn’t. 

A Barbie fills you in on what they’re doing, and how they want you to distract Beach Ken as long as possible while they round up more Barbies to un-brainwash them. Telling you how it’s perfect since he had you around a lot and he’ll be none the wiser to realize everything that’s happening.

♡♡♡

“Hi, Ken!” You exclaimed as he let you into his dojo mojo casa house. “Hi, (Y/N)!” A smile framed his face once he saw you. The artificial-looking moon hovered in the sky as a quiet hum surrounded you in the empty neighborhood.

“I was looking for you, how come you aren’t with everyone at the bonfire on the beach?” His face seemed to drop but he didn’t let go of his macho persona. “Wasn’t feelin’ it. Rather…” He thought for a second, “Watch horses. Y’know. Man things.”

You nodded, “Oh, yeah! Love all these horses you have around.” It clicked that he was avoiding things, avoiding Barbie. He wanted so desperately for her to come to his door. For her to come to him. Instead, it was you who knocked and stood in her clothes. 

He huffed thanks and sat on the couch, you following beside him as he stared at a white horse gallop loop on the screen in front of both of you. It was obvious he was still bothered by his situation. A pang of sympathy left at the tip of your tongue, “Are you okay?”

This seemed to stir something in Ken, the air felt thick. “What am I doing wrong?” His voice was low. So quiet that you were almost sure it was like he didn’t want you to hear him.

But you did and you felt… bad for him. You grabbed his hands that laid on his lap with one of yours, “Ken, you can’t make something that won’t happen, happen.”

He brought his eyes from the TV to now stare at you. His blue eyes held something brooding behind them, but it didn’t deter you from continuing. “Some Barbies don’t have a Ken. Not everyone is made to follow a set of expectations, like how there’s one Alan… or me.” You trail off to include yourself, hoping he sees how you understand him.

“What I’m saying is, it’s okay that Barbie doesn’t want to be with you. I’m sure there’s more for you out here. Someone for you.” You tighten the soft grip you have on his hands to show comfort. 

His face is almost unreadable, an uncomfortable silence echoes in the living room as you wonder if you messed up in trying to help. His hands now grasped yours, although a lot tighter than you’d liked. Ken chuckled, but it carried a sense of something you couldn't quite place.

“I’m an idiot!” His voice finally booms to break the silence in the house, “You’re right. You’re right. I don’t need her.” You would’ve been more optimistic in helping with his realization of independency but the grip he had on your hand was starting to hurt.

“I’ve spent so long trying to make her notice me, but why would I need her when I have you?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to stand but he immediately brought you back down on the couch.

“No, no. That's not what I meant, listen to me–” He inched closer to you, using his strength to pin you down on the large couch. “No, you’re supposed to listen to me.” Betrayal, sadness, fear. So many emotions you weren’t used to swirled inside of you. 

“You’re perfect, y’know? I’ve been thinking about this, us. I wasn’t sure but the way you’ve been by my side all this time, so ready to make me feel better.” He speaks as one of his hands leaves your wrists to dough at your breasts through your lace top.

“So happy to follow me around with bewski beers and to wear the cute little outfits I picked out for you. Dare I say, you look better than Barbie in them.” A dark laugh left his lips, the contrast making your stomach turn as he ignored your small pleas for him to let you go. “Now I see so clearly. We should’ve been together all this time! Ken and (Y/N). I like the sound of that more.” 

You weren’t sure why your chest seemed to pound, or your mouth felt dry, or why tears pricked in your eyes. This wasn’t meant to happen. “What– what are you doing?” You felt almost twice as small as you normally were, wishing your body would shrink and wiggle out of his grasp.

His hand trailed from your chest to under your skirt, between your legs. A gasp left you when he rubbed the foreign part of you covered by a thin underwear.

“The books I’ve read said this,” His hand gave you an oddly warm sensation down there, “It’s important for us to be together. To make you mine.” Suddenly he spread your legs apart to peel down your underwear.

You’re terrified to move, not even noticing that there wasn’t a grip on your wrists anymore. His demeanor alone was enough to keep you down. 

You knew what you had down there, a vagina, and you knew Ken had a penis. Though everyone in Barbieland had one or the other, nobody acknowledged it. It wasn’t something that was shunned per se, but it was like how some dolls had breasts and other’s didn’t. The peak of anything suggestive was making out, and even that disinterested you.

Now, whatever Ken is doing, is making you feel as if you're about to melt. His fingers circle around your entrance and you don’t even get enough time to get used to that feeling before he pulls away and starts lowering down his joggers to free his aching cock. His stupid faux mink coat already having been long discarded right next to your underwear. 

His breathing is heavy, “That should be good, right? You’re ready now? For the sex?” Ken stares at your flushed state with lidded eyes, “I can’t wait anymore. Don’t worry, it should feel amazing!”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. He’s kissing you now, loud moans leave his lips as he sinks into you. Pain. It hurts so bad. Whatever he said about being ready, you definitely weren’t.

The stretching tears you apart and you’re unsure if the burn will ever go away. Ken’s body lays on top of you, a blubbering mess. “Ah, ah, this– this is great, so good.” 

So many feelings overwhelm you in a way that it makes you want just to scream. Hate. Hate is the strongest one. You guys used to be good friends. Everything used to be right. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. You can only repeat that in your head once he starts to thrust into you. 

“Y-you’re mine, aren’t you? Ah– I, I took your virginity. That means, agh– that means you have to stay with me.” His voice mixes in with the sound of his skin slapping into yours, he says something about patriarchy and virginities. He’s claimed you, as the book says. 

You wonder how long this is going to last, you’re pretty sure he’s feeling amazing, but all you feel is an ache. The pain travels up and down your body as all you can do is whimper weak cries. “(Y/N), ah-- I love you.” Ken’s thrusting faster, trailing kisses down your jawline. “Say it back, (Y/N).” 

No, you can’t and you won’t. Ken keeps moaning and saying he loves you over and over again. Each time it’s like he expects you to respond with the same thing back, you don’t. It doesn’t stop him though, his movements become more and more messy. You think he’s getting tired when a harsh snap of his hips with an especially loud moan takes your breath away. A new feeling. Full. 

Again, you didn’t know what just happened. A confused sob is finally let out once you catch your breath, “Ken, what did you do?” You hope he understands you through your choked breaths.

He ignores you, taking sight at the mess he just made. White cum drips out of you, a beautiful scene. “Oh, (Y/N). I wish you can see how perfect you look right now.” His hug around your body is suffocating, "I'm so excited for us to do so many new things tonight."

The new thought of dying creeps into your mind. 

[nekropsii]

We need more images like this. If you have any, drop them in the reblogs or somethin'. Fandom is a nightmare.

[regicidal-optimism]

You've been reblogging more stuff about female characters getting ignored by fandoms recently and I would be really curious to hear your full views on the topic.

The thing is that... look. I get it. Many fandoms do not have very many women in their canon, many of those women are treated pretty poorly by the canon or aren't given as much depth as their male peers, and if you're at all picky the pickings are kind of slim (I would love to be a fan of c!Niki, if I were able to watch six-hour vods, which I am not). It is not wrong that most works with large fandoms are really, really sexist, and the problem is not just in the fanbase!

But come the fuck on. It is not an accident that the DSMP and the MCU and BNHA, all of which are vast-majority male and the female characters are treated terribly, are megafandoms, and Revolutionary Girl Utena is eligible for yuletide. It is not wrong that if you want to see more female-character-focused fanwork you should go to Sailor Moon and not The Untamed, but it is also kind of missing the point to say that and not look at the difference in size between those fandoms. People can say "it's because the male characters are so often more interesting and have more meaningful interactions," and like, sometimes that's even true, I will be the first to tell you that quackbur has more to it than tinarose, but please compare the Clint/Coulson tag to the Utena/Anthy tag and look me in the eye and tell me that's the only thing driving the trend. With a straight face.

And even more there's a thing where— so, I was a mod in the @ao3topshipsbracket bracket. And femslash ships, once they were in the bracket, did really well. Like, absurdly well, like 80% of the f/f ships entered got to the top 16, and the last one was against blackbonnet which was never gonna lose in round 1. You might notice something about that number, though, which is that there were only five of them entered total, because people love to vote for femslash but they absolutely will not write it. And they won't say anything about it either! I was watching the activity feed the entire tournament, and I can tell you, for all of the "let's go lesbians" that populated our notes, nobody would say anything that was actually about the specific characters who made up their ship. I learned a lot about Naruto fandom, modding that bracket; I still know nothing about CW Supergirl, because the only thing anyone would say about it is "it has women in it". Because women are interchangeable. Because women are avatars of Being A Good Feminist. Because clicking a button is easy, and actually thinking about any specific woman and her traits and her internality is hard.

The thing is that guilt over misogyny does not actually fix misogyny. It gets you a lot of people who vote for women in polls, and who say "he's like a woman to me" about their male faves but notably don't have any canonically female characters they talk about, and who say that the only thing they care about in a fic is if it has women in it but will not ever actually say anything about any specific woman, and who never shut up about yuri but apparently yuri is everything and anything except women who have feelings about one another.

I'm tired! I'm very tired. I want people to actually give a shit about specific women and their specific traits, which do not begin and end with "woman". And, also, to stop treating women exclusively as the wingmen, advice-givers, mom figures, and accessories of men.

[bunnyreaper]

john helps you with your gender studies work, then decides to properly educate you.

(18+/MDNI, established d/s dynamic, dubcon(ish), misogyny kink, degradation, choking, pussy slapping.)

part of you wanted to slam the textbook shut the second your handsome distraction of a boyfriend walked through the door, but a large part of you knew you had to get your reading done now before your ability to concentrate evaporated come nightfall. 

you try to focus on the words on the page as you hear john shuck off his jacket and boots, and throw his keys onto the table by the door. 

"home, love." he calls out, before stepping through into the flat. 

"hey." you greet back, small smile on your face even if your response is a little half-hearted. 

john shuffles over to the couch, collapsing down onto the plush cushions before he pulls off his beanie and throws it on the coffee table. 

he gives you a few moments to wrap up the page you're reading, then he expects you to come over and fuss over him like you always do. 

the fussing doesn't come. and his leg starts to rock in impatience--after a trip to the base, he needs his soft, sweet girl in his arms. needs his love cooing over him and staring at him like he hangs the stars in the sky for her. 

instead, your nose is in that fucking book. 

growing impatient, he calls out to you once more, though his voice doesn't betray the way he sits on the couch and fights the urge to bounce his leg, or the twitch of his fingers. "what's that, love?" 

"new class." you flash the book cover at him, key concepts in gender studies. 

john parts his thighs, making a space before he taps them. "come sit here, bring your textbook." his command is gentle yet compelling, and you rise to your feet without a second thought. 

"study snuggles?" you ask, a bright smile on your face as you make your way over. john often tempted you into his arms so he could cuddle you while you read, and you both got what you wanted. 

"something like that." he smirks, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his lap so your arse is flush against him. he circles an arm around your waist, keeping you securely in place as you get back to reading. 

john can't help himself though. his girl in his lap, right where he wants her, and he's sure if he just starts teasing he can make her forget all about the book. he's done it so many times before. 

he pulls the fabric of your top down your shoulder, baring your skin to him so he can press ravenous kisses all across your shoulder and all up your pretty neck. he knows your weak spots, targets them directly with hungry licks and playful bites, until he hears you gasp and sigh in delight, until he feels you squirm in his lap.

"john, i'm trying to focus." you sigh, protest weak as his kisses continue.

one of his hands trails up your thigh, pushing past the hem to expose your thighs and tease your sensitive skin, his hands on a mission. 

like a good girl, you sit and take what john gives you, desperately trying to keep your focus as arousal fogs your brain. maybe you have to re-read the same line about five times, but you're determined to keep going--the book's contents have made you feel determined and powerful. 

john's hands both settle on your knees, pulling your legs wider until they're stretched over his and exposing you to anything john wishes to give to you. 

still, you try to keep your mind on the book and not on the way his fingers creep up the silky skin of your inner thighs, or the way his hardness presses against your cheeks. 

you turn the page over, finally having finished with the prior one. john settles his chin against your shoulder where it glistens with his spit, and you can feel his eyes on the page, reading along with you. 

"don't you feel silly, darling?" he whispers, fingers teasing you further, making you jerk in his lap. 

"why?" you ask, trying to not pay him or his like of questioning too much mind. 

"reading feminist theory when you're far from one." his voice is taunting, a purr that shoots right through you with how condescending it is.

"i am a feminist. you're a feminist." you reason, yet as you say it, you catch onto his little game. at the same time, he reaches up to take ahold of your hand, squeezing. you squeeze back twice. 

"i mean look, women and power." he scoffs, taking your finger to point to the sentence, as if couldn't read it on your own. "i think you should drop the class, darling."

"why?"

one hand moves back to your thighs, thick fingers pads stroking across the outer seam of your panties, the other comes to the nape of your neck--stroking and kneading, giving you goosebumps everywhere.

"don't want it filling your pretty little head full of nonsense." he coos, punctuating his words with a tighter grip. 

"nonsense?" you ask, voice sweet and innocent. 

john hums for a moment, before his slips round the column of your throat. "who has power in this relationship?"

he choses that moment to ghost his fingers across your clit through your panties, and he watches as your body tries to chase his fingers. 

"y-you."

"and why's that, princess?" he turns your head and kisses the side of your jaw, hovers his fingers inches away from where you need him most. 

"because you're older and wiser, but really it's because I give you power!" you protest, voice growing whiny as your body betrays you. 

john laughs--a low, mocking sound. his fingers tighten around your throat, restricting your blood flow. "hmm. but you like listening to an older man, don't you?"

"yes..."  

finally he pushes his fingers firmly into your clit, chucking as you buck and your legs almost start kicking. "how is that empowering?"

pleasure floods you immediately. your grip on your book tightens, your eyes slip shut and a breathy moan pushes past your lips."it's just a fantasy... it's not... real."

"isn't it? are you sure?" he coos again, talking to you like you're beyond stupid. his fingers quicken, his grip chokes you harder. "if you wanted me to stop, could you fight me off?"

you thrash against his hold but find it entirely futile. "no!" you cry out. 

"why?" 

john relents, stilling all movement so you can calm down and give him a semi-coherent answer. even with his hands not actively teasing you, it still feels so hard to think.

"well you're in the army for one." you mutter, a sarcastic edge to your voice that earns you a short, sharp slap to your pussy that brings you back in line. "because you're bigger and stronger. 

"why do you think that is?"

you hate the way it feels like john is actually picking apart your thoughts, invading your brain and reprogramming you--and you know he hasn't even gotten started.

"because... you're a man."

"hmm, it's natural for men to be strong, powerful." he explains, his words patient and authoritative. he returns to massaging your clit, making you associate the words with pleasure. "for women to be weaker, in need of protection." 

you wrack your brain to think of a response, a rebuttal to john's claim. "that doesn't make us unequal."

"no, princess, this little slit between your legs does." he mocks, as his fingers now dive underneath the fabric of your soaked panties to probe at your hole. "what is a cunt's purpose?" 

"to... get fucked?" you mumble, feeling shy. finally, you close the book, tossing it down on the floor and listening to john instead.

"fucked and bred by a man. dominated. conquered." his fingers thrust inside you, ruthless as they piston into your needy hole. "it's just nature, hmm? a cunt gets fucked, a cock does the fucking." 

"i... guess." what he is saying makes sense to your aroused, confused, weak female brain. 

"and your body knows it too, that's why you're leaking all over my fingers." he croons before sweeping your wetness all over your aching clit. 

"no, that's because--" 

he slaps your cunt again. 

"If you didn't like it, you wouldn't be soaked darling." he tuts and shakes his head, dismissive of your feeble protest. "it's normal, princess. your body doesn't believe in fantasy, it just knows reality." 

"s'not a bad thing to want to be protected, coddled, cared for. not wrong to give into your instincts, to want to be filled up with cock and cum, to please a man." 

he keeps talking, keeps re-educating you as his fingers work over your puffy nub and the sensation of being a little messy girl overwhelms you. 

"goes both ways love, wanna please you too, but we each have our roles, no?" 

"yeah... you're right..." you nod weakly.

"there has to be a reason this is the way things have always been, hmm?" 

john continues, launching into a long speech as he works you closer and closer to the edge. "and look at what you do for me. what would they think if they could see you now?"

your brain starts to slow, his words echoing around your empty little brain. 

still, he persists. still, he preaches his patriarchal gospel. "if they knew the times you skipped classes just to stay at home, down on your knees, worshipping my cock with that pretty fucking mouth?"

his words turn to a condescending growl, a mocking roar as he infiltrates every last corner of your mind. "if they knew the way misogyny gets you fucking soaked, love." 

the hand on your neck glides as his fingers intrude into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and choking you on the digits. "could you even spell patriarchy right now, explain feminism? no? go on, tell me you're a feminist, princess." He urges, unrelenting.

all you can do is gargle and choke in response, unable to do the one simple thing john asks of you, unable to do it because you're weak. a woman. just a needy cunt.

"good girl. my good girl. that's it, surrender to a big strong man like me. s'just natural, love." his filthy, forbidden words have you right on the edge. but you know the rules, you don't come without his permission.

luckily for you--john is merciful, kind, and takes care of what's his. after all, he only wants what's best for you. "cum for me. cum the last of your brains away, sweetheart."

with his command, the coil within you snaps, sending you over the edge of a brain-shattering orgasm--a high unlike any other. it feels like you do actually cum your brains out, as your body shakes against john's hold and cries leave your throat until it's almost raw.

john holds you steady, safe in his arms as you come down from the high and he presses sweet kisses along every inch of exposed skin he can possibly reach. 

"fuck, john." you sigh, eyes remaining shut in your blissed out state. you cling to where john's arms are wrapped around you, squeezing him back. 

"good?" he whispers as he strokes you soothingly. "didn't go too far?"

"no, i loved it." 

he smirks against your skin, relieved that you enjoyed exploring the fantasy with him.

"good. how about i take you to bed and really fuck the feminism out of you then?"

[loudclan-clangen]

Come Over (Again) - Fiercestripe

Thank you guys for being so awesome! As a reward for being so patient with me on my break, here's a PMV and a backstory drop for everybody's mom, Fiercestripe:

Born Flower, she grew up with a group of cats that believed that she-cats shouldn't learn to hunt or fight. This ideology prevented her from running away on her own, and before she knew it she had a mate (Coal) and a kit (Thorn) and was well on her way to living the rest of her life there. It wasn't until a chance encounter with Wildfirecry, having recently left his old clan, that Flower saw a chance at freedom. Wildfirecry stayed with Flower's family for several days, hesitantly telling stories of Starclan and his old home, but he refused to stay long, claiming he had to continue his search for Starclan. Realizing this might be her only chance, Flower left in the night, determined to find him. Upon catching up with him however, Flower was disappointed. He told her to go home, that she would only slow him down or die and she had a kitten to care for. At this, Flower lashed out, she didn't care if it was dangerous, if she might die, at least she would do it away from here. Couldn't he understand that she was giving up everything for this chance? Her only chance? Eventually he relented, comforting the young she-cat and agreeing that she could travel with him, but only until she learned to take care of herself... And the rest is history. Fiercestripe will always feel guilty for leaving her daughter behind, but she doesn't regret it. A kitten, even an older one wouldn't have survived the journey they took, and because of her choice Dogwood and Rosehip were born into a loving family where they can have whatever future they want to have. She only hopes that Thorn found her own way in life, and that she's safe and happy wherever she ended up.

Fiercestripe was 15 moons old when Thorn was born, and 20 moons old when she left with Wildfirecry, so Thorn would be 75 moons old now. (only a few moons older than Siltsplash!)

[If you guys are interested I'll make a part 2 with the rest of the song! (featuring modern day Fierce, Silt, and Owl most likely) I've never made anything in video form before, so this was a really fun experiment! The only way I could wrap my head around a project this big was to make the canvas size really small, so apologies if it's not super high quality. (It's high quality in my heart.) The song is called Come Over (Again) by The Crawlers, it's one of my all time favorites, highly reccomend.]

[punkeropercyjackson]

You can really tell terfism is just fragile white girl shit because they always say they believe in 'sex based oppression' but never 'race based oppression' lmaoooooooo

[oreocookiecrumble]

I think more people need to acknowledge how transmascs being told to shut up about our oppression mirrors the stereotyping we go through as submissive individuals, which mirrors the misogyny cis women face. Does "shut up and look pretty" ring a bell to anyone?

The queer community as a whole has never seen us as real men, we're cis men's "better" counterpart because we're submissive, we're weak, we're fragile. We're all the things misogyny says women are, because they still see us as womanly. I'm so often forced into a submissive role because of my existence as a trans man, even within the queer community. I'm forced into these roles that have been historically stereotyped as women's roles because I am still conceptualized as being a woman. And so often I am afraid to stand up for myself within queer spaces because I know once people stop seeing me as a submissive (womanly) trans man I become a problem. Because dominance is associated with manliness. Dominance means I've accepted fully the mantle of being a man and that means I am now scary. I am now a problem. I am now a danger. I cannot be angry, I cannot be hurt, because if a trans man shows anger, he becomes scary. I am no longer the queer standing up against oppression, I am an angry man, which is a monster to be feared.

Now, people seem to believe misogyny is only directed at women. Cis women experience misogyny because they are women. Trans women experience misogyny because they are women. However, people can't accept that trans men face misogyny even as trans men (or cis men experiencing it, as a matter of fact). To other people, once we take the term "man" to refer to ourselves, we've lost our ability to experience misogyny. Because not only are we no longer women, we have renounced womanhood. We are the "Least Woman" (as cis men could discover they're actually trans women!). Which ultimately makes it taboo to say that we're still treated as women, we still experience misogyny, even within queer spaces. If people believe we are the Least Woman, how can we experience misogyny? How can people treat us like women?

And yet... if people don't treat us like women, if we don't act like women, we aren't allowed within their spaces. Queer and non-queer alike.

Anyway, rant over. Have a good one. Sending love and positive vibes to all you queer and non-queer folks out there.

[dathen]

Okay now that we’ve beaten the point of “the text doesn’t portray Lucy as deserving her death or a whore/madonna dichotomy with Mina” to death, now we can actually address what IS in the text: the vampire as the corrupted woman, a whore/madonna dichotomy contrasting with Lucy when she was alive.

Jack’s narration today is a bit “saying the quiet part out loud” in this regard. We drag him for how many times he says ‘voluptuous,’ but almost as many times he mentions purity in contrast: the blood staining the ‘pure white lawn’ of her burial grown as a vivid example. Over and over her corruption is described as a horrifying sexuality, fascinating and attracting and repulsing the suitors much like Jonathan was fascinated and attracted and repulsed by Dracula or the vampire women.

In the rush to victim-blame Lucy for her own death, critics miss the crux of the symbolism, and leave the xenophobia largely unaddressed. It’s especially clear when looking at Lucy’s plot as a whole: threatened by the dark, exotic and dangerous East, which is temporarily held at bay by Strong Western Blood which is praised for its quality of breeding (😬), and how she is unrecognizably evil and twisted once the corruption takes root.

[nekropsii]

This is very funny because the only reason he was ever graced with a Fan Favorite title and the only reason he’s as rigorously defended as he is to this day is because he’s a White Boy. There isn’t any other reason.

Feferi is still cast as a stone cold heartless bitch for… [checks notes]… Trying to amicably break up with a guy she was no longer comfortable dating, while Eridan gets away scot free with being unrelentingly, unrepentantly callous and hostile, tremendously hemoloyal, literally committing a genocide on purpose which was his dream to achieve in life, and also objectifying Feferi at every turn. Cool!

[homoeroticicarus]

I want my kinks to ruin my life. I want to be so horny all the time that the only thing I can do, only thing I want to do, is rub my cunt for hours every day.

I want to be porn, cock, and sex addicted

I want to be so brain dead and used that I'll listen to exactly to what I'm told. I want to be a mess of a person & only be of use when humiliating myself

[babsaros]

hey. when cis society is oppressing a trans man, what he is experiencing is. In Fact. misogyny. i'm sorry i know none of us like to be reminded of our agab, and it hurts whenever people perceive you as the wrong gender. but a cis person hate-criming, assaulting, verbally abusing, etc, a trans man is not doing "transandrophobia" because they do not perceive him as a man.

they perceive him as a woman failing at her gender, as a woman who has been seduced and lied to and manipulated because women are so easily led astray, just like it says in the bible. they perceive him as a woman who has been mutilated. they perceive him as a dyke that needs to be fixed. if they are hate-criming him because they *do* perceive him as a man, because he passes well enough they aren't thinking he could be trans, then they're doing so out of homophobia, perceiving him as a gay man, a pervert, a sissy, a danger to children. OR, they are being transphobic but specifically because they think he might be transfeminine instead. when cis society oppresses a trans woman, they are able to do it on multiple levels at once. She's a woman failing at her gender, a dyke that needs to be fixed. Or she's an evil and grotesque crossdressing pervert, a rude caricature, a danger to polite society. she will never be doing enough to escape oppression entirely, no matter if she gets every surgery she can and wears makeup every day and passes perfectly, because she lives under a patriarchy, and she's a woman, so she lives in a panopticon, and HAVING to get surgery and wear make-up to be respected IS oppression, especially if the alternative is being hate-crimed.

trans women (and trans men who pass) are not experiencing "transandrophobia" when a 'queer women and nbs" event turns them away at the door for being too masculine. they are. IN FACT!! experiencing the byproducts of misogyny in a patriarchy!!! where the terfs and coward cis women running those events and occupying those spaces have been taught (sometimes through experience, sometimes by men, sometimes by women) throughout life that men = stronger and more dangerous than women ALWAYS. That they need to protect themselves at all times and always be vigilant. That men and women can't be friends without sexual tension (and so as queer women the mere existence of what they perceive as a "man" is a threat). That women need a separate sports league because they can't possibly compete with someone who has even a little bit "extra" (an unquantifiable amount actually because there isn't a standard range) testosterone. That women should cook and men should fix cars. i promise you, i promise i promise i promise. it's misogyny. like!!! you don't say cis gay men experiences "androphobia", bc that's not a thing!! you sound like fucking mens rights activists guys please! you don't say a black man experiences "misandrynoir"!! because living in a patriarchy fundamentally means men do not experience oppression based on their gender. its not happening. shut the fuck up. stop walking us back to 2014 can we please take a step forward and stop bitching about this. there are genuine issues in the world and i'm frankly sick of people who should be smarter than that needing to be gently hand-held through this fucking explanation for the millionth time and still stomping their feet.

[badaziraphaletakes]

Fair warning to fans, especially ab*se survivors, before you venture into the murky waters of the fandom on this Season 2 anniversary.

I was hoping today would be a day where the fandom would be celebrating this beautiful show that we love and how lucky we are that we got a Season 2.

But no. People are using it to re-iterate the same bigoted, victim-blaming hot takes that they felt the need to spew last year about how Aziraphale being forced back to heaven by his ab*sers is somehow his fault.

They’re choosing to continue to make the fandom an unsafe place for survivors. We’re not even allowed one day where we can just celebrate and be happy without being triggered.

Nice to know there’s been virtually no progress. This blog and the space it provides to escape that are as necessary as ever, it turns out. We pledge anew there will NEVER be any of that crap here. And we’ll keep doing this as long as we need to.

Come sit with us and have a hot chocolate. Stay as long as you need. We’re here for you.

[bunnyreaper]

welcome to the 141

kinktober 3 - bukkake, hate sex

price + ghost x reader

(18+/mdni, noncon, misogyny, no but seriously... misogyny, degradation)

Real men belong in the 141, real women belong on their knees.

That's what your arsehole friend had joked when you told him about your intention to transfer, but you were determined to prove him and everyone else wrong. You'd gotten this far, and you could make it just that little bit further. 

You sit in the gym, anxiously waiting for Captain Price and Lieutenant Riley to arrive and begin a physical assessment with you—their reputations precede them, and you want nothing more than to impress them, so they have no choice but to accept you into the task force. 

The squeak of the door pulls you out of your thoughts, redirecting your attention to the two behemoth men who have just walked through the door—all bulging muscles barely contained in tight-fitting compression shirts. The way you rise to your feet is sheer instinct, as you rush into a greeting that is swiftly cut off. 

Captain Price walks with a swagger, and stops at the side of the mat in the middle—he beckons you forward wordlessly, as Ghost steps forward to meet you in the middle of the mat. 

"So you're the girl that wants to try out for the 141?" The captain asks, and you internally bristle at his use of such a diminutive word, but you decide to push down your protests as you decide to ignore it.

You nod eagerly. "That's me, captain." 

He smirks, his face twisting with sick amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest and his eyes crawl over your body. "It's not going to be easy, last chance to back out."

The taunt only makes you more determined. "Thanks, but no thanks." 

He and the Lieutenant share a look, one you can't really perceive the meaning of, but you know whatever comes next is going to be the biggest challenge of your career. 

"We'll start with a sparring session, you can show the Lieutenant what you're made of." 

You nod obediently, turning to Ghost as the two of you start to square up and prepare to spar. He doesn't say a word, and neither do you, as you quietly appraise him and figure out how to use his massive stature against him. 

The tension is thick, each second crawling by as you breathe in and hyperfocus before making your first move. 

You barely get a grip on him before he's slamming you into the mat, limbs pinning you down with ease as you fight to suck down your breaths. "Fuck."

"Impressive." He mutters, tone completely dry. 

The whole situation makes your temper flare, as you can feel them already underestimating you, can practically taste their misogynistic attitudes in the air. You struggle against Ghost's hold, still unable to grapple free. "Let me go again, I wasn't ready." You rush out an excuse, yet you're determined to not let him get the better of you a second time. 

The Captain's voice cuts in, heavy with judgement and condescension. "You think out in the field they'll be waiting for you to be ready, soldier?" He scoffs and shakes his head. "Dumber than I thought, clearly." 

Each word stokes the fire inside you, makes you more and more desperate to prove yourself. Your chest heaves as your anger and determination escalate. "Just let me try again, please." 

Ghost looks to his Captain, who nods in approval before Ghost moves away and allows you to climb to your feet once more. 

Again, you both prepare, staring each other down. This time, you know a little of his tactics, of his plan to rush you and overwhelm you with his bulk, and your mind switches to executing more evasive maneuvers. 

You wait patiently for Ghost to make the first move, which you dodge with ease, you just make it out of his reach when he's rushing for you again, anticipating your dodge and sending you flying into the mat once more. 

You're not sure what burns more between the pain in your back and the humiliation you feel, but Ghost is on top of you, pinning you again. His hands are on your wrists as his hips are pushed into your core, and you can feel that the bastard is fucking hard. No amount of thrashing throws him off of you.

"Same result. Stop struggling." He growls, voice deep and menacing and impatient, as he grinds down and keeps you firmly in place.

"See this is the thing about little girls like you." Each word is snarled, sheer aggression unfolding from behind the mask. "You think you can make it a man's world, in the army, but you can't." 

"I can, women can." You whimper, voice frayed with pain as the lieutenant's grip tightens. 

You hear the dull thud of the Captain's footsteps as he moves into your line of sight and stares down at you.

"Go on then, break free." He commands, watching as you squirm fruitlessly, and a predatory smile crosses his face. "Pathetic, darling."

Price gives Ghost another look, as he frees you once more, and you stumble to your feet red-faced and mortified. 

"Captain—" You're about to challenge him, about to call him out on all of this sexist bullshit when his hands come to your shoulders, forcing you to your knees once more. 

"You can tell me all your precious feminist thoughts while you're down on your knees." He scoffs, working on unbuckling his belt right before your shocked face. 

Ghost does the same, belt clinking as the two men work to free their erections—you try to stand, but their hands keep you pinned before them, kneeling and waiting. 

"I'm not gonna do whatever you think you're asking!" You squeal as their thick cocks bounce free and taunt you with their appearance. 

"I'm not asking, I'm telling you to put that mouth to use instead of opening it for your pointless protests." The Captain begins, his hand working over his length slowly."  "You want in the 141? Know your place, on your knees and serving your superior officers, as a woman should."

Ghost does the same, gloved hand working his length dangerously close to your face. "That look in your eyes tells me everything we need to know. Strong, independent woman until you see a nice hard cock." 

"That's not true, I—" You open your mouth to protest, but find it stuffed full of the Captain's dick—his salty precum coating your tongue as he works his way inside. 

You suck on instinct, and of a creeping sense of fear of what will happen if you don't. They've gone this far, maybe it's just hazing, maybe this is how you— 

The Captain takes hold of your ponytail, pulling you up and down his length leisurely. "Much better, good girl."

The words make you flush against your will, your body betraying your usually headstrong self. 

He thrusts his cock as deep as you can take it without gagging, stilling there for a moment. "I'll break you in properly before long. Keep you under my desk, yeah, love?" 

The noise of rejection you make with your mouth full sounds awfully like approval to the men's ears. 

Ghost reaches down to grab your hand, wrapping your smaller fingers around his cock as you continue to suck the captain, while he taunts you. "This is your natural state, brain off, mouth full of dick. You don't have to pretend to be strong with us, it's better for all of us this way."

Price groans, deep and chesty in a way that makes your body sing against your will. "Always in need of some stress relief after a mission, you'd be perfect." He sighs, continuing to guide you up and down him. 

He pulls you off of him, guiding your head towards Ghost's length so you can swallow him instead. Ghost's hands hold either side of your head, working his cock inside before he thrusts with reckless abandon. "Fuck. If you weren't made to suck then why are you so fucking good at it, huh?" He all but growls, continuing to use your face as nothing more than a little fuckhole.  

He's rougher than Price, moves you faster up and down his cock, and forces himself deeper into your throat, your gagging sounds filling the room. "That's what I like to hear." 

"What do you think, Ghost?" The captain asks. 

"Need to make sure she knows her place." Ghost snarls, pulling you off of him harshly before forcing your head down to the floor, down to his boot. "Kiss it, then you can hump it like the desperate little slut you are."

"I'm not—" You whine, but he's tilting up his but to meet your mouth, so you can start to worship the leather. 

Tears prickle at your eyes as you lick and kiss his boot, desperately hoping the act will please him.

"You're a cunt, you're just a set of needy holes." He pulls you back up by the chin, repositioning you so your clit is pressed against his foot, and you start grinding down on instinct. 

"You deny it love, but look at the way you move those hips, it just comes naturally to you." Price laughs, his eyes blown with arousal. 

You hate it—hate what they're doing and what they've reduced you to, but at the same time you're so fucking needy, and Ghost is at least giving you some semblance of relief. 

"Grinding on my boot like a pathetic little doll. Don't make a mess, or you'll be cleaning it with your mouth." 

You want to cry out and rebuke them, but as your mouth opens, nothing comes out. 

"Shhh." Price coos, bringing up your hands to each of the man's dicks. "Just focus on us, darling." 

Your doe eyes stare at them desperately, as you do the only thing you can, jerk their cocks with fervor and chase the shocks of pleasure you get from rubbing against Ghost. You're so lost, so reduced, and yet unable to stop.

The volume of both men's groans increases, as they urge you into stroking faster and faster—it isn't long before they're both crashing toward the edge. 

"Paint her face, Simon." Price commands his Lieutenant, who takes hold of his cock and rubs until he's spilling fresh, sticky cum all over your face—in your lashes, on your lips and cheeks, even a little in your hair. 

The sight is enough to send Price over the edge too, his ropes joining Ghost's as they both cover your face entirely in rope after rope of cum.

"New fucking uniform for you." Ghost chuckles, slightly breathless, as he milks his cock for any remaining drops to stain your face with.

"Look at that." The look in Price's eyes is almost sweet, as he tilts up your chin to inspect your painted face. "Good job. Welcome to the 141, princess."

[punkeropercyjackson]

Free my woman,she canonically hates a male character for being a huge asshole but the fandom is convinced she's a tsundere who wants to fix him with her girlhood and thinks it's groundbreaking feminist storytelling and that it's misogynistic to hate it

[bonefall]

So, I'm writing an essay on the whole STATE of misogyny in WC for one of my university classes, and I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of things! No pressure of course, please feel free to say no!

A) Could I reference your good takes with appropriate harvard referencing and links back to your blog?

B) Are there any specific moments from the books that you think should be covered the most?

C) The end result will be a visual essay, so it's like those fun infographics people on Tumblr make on like ADHD and stuff, so when it's done, would you like to be tagged to read it?

(Sorry for anon, I'm nervous lmao, but if you'd be more comfortable I'll resend this off anon)

AAY good topic! You've got a lot to work with. Absolutely feel free to reference anything I've written, and tag me when you're done.

While you're here and about to write something so legitimate, I'm also going to recommend you check out Sunnyfall's video on gender in Warrior Cats. She breaks down the arcs into numbers, directly comparing the amount of lines mollies have to toms, and examining the archetypes women are usually allowed to be.

I think it's a must-have citation in a paper about WC misogyny.

...and, I think it's insightful to look at the WCRP Forum thread about the video. Note how the respondents immediately come into the thread to complain about how the video is too long so they didn't watch it, dismissing Sunnyfall as not being entertaining enough to hold their attention, even whining that she starts with statistics to prove her point, which I'm convinced she did exactly because they would have cried that she "had no evidence" if she didn't.

I am not a scholar, so I don't know how to document or prove that the books have an impact on the audience outside of anecdotes. But I think if you do write a section about fandom, it would be worth mentioning the in-universe and metatextual apologia for Ashfur and its reflection in the real world discourse, the authorial killing of Ferncloud because of fan complains, and the utter defensiveness against the discussion of misogyny you see outside of Tumblr.

You may also want to check out Cheek by Jowl, a collection of 8 essays about sexism in xenofiction by Ursula K. Le Guin. There's a very unique manifestation of authorial bias in animal fiction, having a lot to do with how the author views "the natural world," and it's worth understanding even though Warrior Cats are so heavily anthropomorphized.

So... Warrior Cats Misogyny

I think discussing individual instances can be helpful, but I'd implore you to keep in mind what's REALLY bad about WC's misogyny is framing and the bigger picture.

Bumble's death is shocking and insulting, but it's not just that she died. It's that the POV Gray Wing sees her as a fat, useless bitch who took his mate so she deserves to be dragged back to a domestic abuser, and he's right because the writers love him so much. It's that Bumble's torture and killing only factors into how it's going to hurt a man's reputation.

It's how Clear Sky hitting, emotionally manipulating, or killing the following women,

Bright Stream (pressured into leaving her home and family)

Storm (controlled her movements and yelled at her in public)

Misty (killed for land, children stolen)

Bumble (beaten unconscious, blamed nonsensically on a fox)

Alder (child abuse, hit when she refused to attack her brother)

Falling Feather (scratched on the face, subjected to public abuse and humiliation)

Tall Shadow (thrown into murderous crowd, attacked on-sight in heaven)

Rainswept Flower ("blacked out" in anger and murdered in cold blood)

Moth Flight (scratched on the face for saying denying medical treatment is mean, taken hostage in retaliation against mother for the death of his own child, which he caused)

Willow Tail (eyes gouged out for "stirring up trouble")

Is seen as totally understandable, forgivable, or not even questioned at all, when killing Gray Wing in an act of rage would have been "one step too far" with the ridiculous Star Line.

"Kill me and live with the memory, and then let the stars know it would only matter if a single one of your murder victims was a man."

It's the way that fathers who physically abuse their kids out of their ego (Clear Sky, Sandgorse, Crowfeather) aren't treated anywhere near the same level of narrative disgust and revulsion the series has for "bad moms", even if they're displaying symptoms of a post-partum mood disorder (depression, anxiety, and rage), an umbrella of mental illnesses 20% of all new mothers experience but are heavily stigmatized with (Sparkpelt, Palebird, Lizardstripe).

It's Crookedstar's Promise giving him two evil maternal figures in a single book, while bending over backwards to make every man in a position of power still look likeable in spite of the fact they're enabling Rainflower's abuse. Leader Hailstar is soso sorry that he has to change Stormkit's name for some reason, in spite of leaders being unaccountable dictators the other 99% of the time, and Deputy Shellheart functionally does nothing to stop his own son from being abused or even do much parenting before or after the fact.

It's the way men's parental struggles are seen sympathetically, and they don't have to "pay for it" like their female counterparts (Crookedstar's PPD vs Sparkpelt's PPD, how Daisy and Cinders are held responsible for Smoky and Whisper being deadbeats, Yellowfang's endless guilt for killing her son vs Onestar's purpose in life to kill his own), even to the point where a father doesn't have to have raised their kids at all to have a magical innate emotional connection to them (Tree's father Root, Tom the Wifebeater, Tigerstar and Hawkfrost).

It's less speaking lines and agency for female characters, being reduced to accessories in the lives of their mates and babies, women getting less diversity in their personalities, with even major ex-POV characters eventually becoming "sweet mom" tropes.

You could zoom in on any one of these examples and have an amoeba try to argue with you that "Oh THIS makes sense because X" or "Ah well my headcanon perfectly explains this thing" or "MY mother/girlfriend was abusive/toxic/neglectful and I've decided that you are personally attacking ME by having issues with how a character was written or utilized," but the beleaguered point,

That I keep trying to hammer in, over and over, across books worth of posts,

Is that these are trends. More than just a couple one-off examples. It's the fabric that has been woven over years, showing a lack of interest in, or even active prejudice of, women on behalf of the writers.

LONG STANDING trends, which have only gotten worse as the series progressed. From Yellowfang being harshly punished with a born evil son who ruins her life in TPB and the mistreatment of Squirrelpaw that begins in TNP, all the way up to the 7 Fridgenings of DOTC and Sparkpelt's PPD being a major character motivator for her son Nightheart.

So, I would stress that in your paper, and structure it less as "the Sparkpelt slide" and "the Yellowfang slide," and more as "The paternal vs maternal abuse" slide, and "the violence against women" slide. They're really big issues, there's tons of examples for each individual thing.

Anyway to leave off on a funny, look at this scene in Darkest Hour that I find unreasonably hilarious,

"Everyone who matters to me; my truest friend, my sensible and loyal warrior, the wisest deputy I've ever known, and 2 women." -Firestar, glorious idiot

He can't even think of a single trait for either of them what the hell does "formidable pair" mean lmaooo, when I finished a reread about a year ago this line killed me on impact.

[nekropsii]

thoughts on meulin as a whole :?

I think her Toxic Positivity as commentary on Tumblr Fandom Spaces is spot on, and I feel like no one acknowledges that trait partially because of the same reason that it’s there in the first place. The reason I say “partially” is because it mostly comes down to people not reading the Openbounds, but still professing themselves to be “experts” just because they saw a few pieces of Fan Art. Any remaining percentage goes to Misogyny. The Leijons are not allowed to be seen as complicated people because they are Cute Girls, and therefore are Dumb and Silly and Have No Humanity - I mean, Personality outside of this.

Every Abled person who has looked me in the eyes and told me she’s Bad Hearing Disabled Representation because she “isn’t using real sign”, or because she’s “still speaking verbally to people” owe me $500 per every word of their statement. Textually, she loves her disability, and she loves navigating it and the world around her. She loves the new learning opportunities, she loves learning sign. She’s open about this! Literally the only real reason she’s still speaking verbally to people is because the people around her won’t fucking take the time to learn sign for her. This is a struggle that a lot of real actual hearing disabled people face. It’s not unrealistic. Lip reading exists. Her disability was gained, so she already knew how to talk. I wish every Abled person a very Shut The Fuck Up, Forever. I wish them a very Begone, Concern Troll. I love Meulin. I’ll kill you.