#gender bashing

[str4wkinzi]

NSFW CONTENT! MINORS DONT INTERACT!!

Your teacher comes over to your desk, putting one hand on your shoulder.

“Stay after class today.”

Teacher! fav x Reader :3 (comic said change it to any character)

COMIC’S BIRTHDAY BASH HERE!!

You wait in your seat after class, watching everyone else pack up and leave. He goes over to the door, closing and locking it.

“Your grades have been.. low. Is anything wrong?” He questions as he comes over to your desk.

You say no. Well, you try to say no. You look at him staring into your soul with those eyes. He’s your teacher, you shouldn’t think like this!

He snaps his fingers in your face. When did he get so close? He leans down, he’s so close to your face.

“I think i know what the problem is..” he whispers to himself as he stands up. You don’t hear it.

“Is it me? Are you.. distracted by me?” He says.

You could barely count the number of no’s that left your lips. No. That’s a lie. He knows it. You know it. But maybe you can…

“Maybe i need to… teach you how to pay attention in class.”

“You can suck cock better than that, sweetheart.” He groans with a slight chuckle.

You never thought you’d be sucking your teachers cock. Well, you thought about it, but who thought it would actually happen?

With his eyes burning into your helpless state. Head bobbing on his cock as his hips meet your lips.

He stops you.

“What’s the answer to this?” He asks, coming out more like a demand than a question.

You hold your fingers up, ‘five.’

You see him smile and grab your hair, lifting your head off his cock.

“That was too easy for you. We both know you’re smarter than basic math, right?”

You nod shyly as you await his next set of words.

“Let’s give you a real challenge.”

Bent over his desk, he asks you once more.

“Write down the fucking answer.” He demands between thrusts.

You write the answer on the paper, sloppily, but it’s there and its right. He chuckles and stops all movements.

“Answer this question correctly. This is the last one.”

You nod as you whine.

“Are you going to pay attention from now on?” He asks.

You nod frantically, practically breaking your neck trying too.

“Words.” Is all he says before he starts pounding to you. Your words get caught in your throat as he fucks them out of you.

Shaking, moaning, dripping mess. You yell ‘yes’ just as he hits your cervix.

“Yes what? What are you saying yes for?” He chuckles as his thrusts get harder.

You angrily whine and try to mutter out a slur of words.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

Fuck, he’s driving you insane.

“Yes, i’ll pay attention in class from now on.”

You wish it came out like that. It came out shaky and full of desperate moans. You could barely comprehend your own sentence.

“I’ll let you off easy this time.” He whispers in your ear as he thrusts impossibly harder then before.

Moans, groans, and lewd slapping fill the classroom. What if someone came back to get something they forgot?

A student and a teacher, fucking right over his desk. What if somebody heard your loud moans through the door?

Those are the thoughts you would be having if you weren’t so fucked out right now.

When you both eventually cum he helps you put all your clothes that he ripped off on.

He helps you walk out of the school and into his car. Along the way, you ask him where you two are going.

“Private lessons, of course. I’ll call your parents and say you needed them.”

STR4WZ STICKY NOTE < guys ive been going crazy.. imagine crying while writing smut its a really good experience - STR4WKINZI anyways everything is going out in the next 4-3 days (hopefully) cuz im not busy :3 except school ofc BYE I LOVE YOU GUYS 3

[i-wish-i-were-softer]

Ozai can be the most terrible parent in the history of parenting but he didn't ignore azula's powers just because she was a girl.

[audhdplatypus]

Watching Helluva Boss feels like I'm being launched back into middle school on fanfiction(dot)net where 90% of the mlm stories are written by st8 women fetishizing gay men who unapologetically tag their fic with *insert female character* bashing because they truly view women as evil and a threat to their soft gay boys. Like I keep expecting to see seme/uke tags 😭

[weirwood]

stark stans suddenly pretending to give a shit about arya every time someone discusses her and dany becoming friends as if they don’t downplay or make a joke out of her trauma, reduce her to an assassin/killer, erase or steal key parts of her story and characterisation, and want her to either abandon her family or become her sister’s guard dog.

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

Our preferred gender pronouns are the sound of shattering glass, the weight of hammers in our hands and the sickly-sweet aroma of shit on fire.

Address us accordingly.

The march continued its rampage down Forbes, encountering some two-bit would-be queerbasher calling us faggots. Before he could realize his mistake, we enacted a particularly cold-blooded sadism on the fool. He was shown his error in a shower of kicks, punches, and a copious dousing of pepper spray. Before he even hit the floor, the immunitary logic of biopower was turned inside-out. His power to shape our bodies and to expose them to death was collapsed into itself.

Yes, our bodies have been shaped, but into monstrous vessels of potential and revolt. He was instead made our object and was exposed to our violence. An amalgamation of our crude delinquency and nasty desires unapologetically saturated the streets (and bathrooms and hotels and alleys) of Pittsburgh this past week. With ribald irresponsibility we wrecked, fucked, fought, and came all over politics’ symbolic terrain, synchronized only in our lust for disorder.

Using our bucking bodies against restraint itself, we had no message – choosing instead to leave behind ruins of boundaries and a tangible path of demolition. Our unleashing of violent aspirations upon homophobic frat boys and lifeless-daily-addictions spilled over as we pursued further stimulation onto each other. We got wet and came hard in a pile of dirty money, corrupting every inch of sterility with the funk of our perspiring bodies – aching with impure satisfaction. Our scheming, pleasure-seeking bodies came into conflict with lesser realities and emerged victorious. We left strains of the queerest kind all over the broken bits of capital graced by our presence.

[hiphopcherrrypop]

hai zenji + hi tokyo debunker fandom

[irohsteaa]

Eva’s remark makes me wonder how old Angelica is.

But first things first.

Some interesting things here:

The theme of time: three different clocks (Eva’s, Angelica’s and the clock Tenma wanted to gift to Junkers).

Coincidences: it’s so convenient that Tenma enters the shop with the clock right before his date, so Eva has the opportunity to sabotage it; it’s also very convenient that, thanks to this, Tenma can go back to the hospital where he discovers the disappearance of Junkers. And because it’s Tenma, he decides to look for Junkers on his own. This makes it possible for him to meet Johan again. 

These aren’t coincidences for coincidence sake: all of this is backed up by the plot (Becker telling Eva about the date, Tenma talking to Junkers about the clock, Junkers being involved in the middle-aged couple serial murders).

3. The role of gender and status

Right before the date, Tenma tells Becker that it’s high time for him to get married.

It’s very interesting that all of this happens shortly before Johan forces Tenma to go on a life-altering journey where he can see the world outside his very specific bubble.

Almost as if it was a Puppet Master/her Majesty Fate herself that held Tenma back from getting deeper into the role of the man in (absolute?) power. 

Not because he actively wanted to, but because he was too focused on his own perspective to be more reflective; the other doctors were greedy because they chose so, and he used to be like this as well, but isn’t anymore, because one incident changed him (did it also change the whole system, Tenma?).

This mindset—the belief that our change for the better is a fixed process and not a complicated ongoing process and something we need to take active care of—can result in a lack of reflection. Because why should we reflect on something we see as a fixed issue? 

And with this lack of reflection (and time just flying away), it’s very easy to miss all the tiny moments that could lead us to a place we don’t want to be in because we took it for granted that we’ll never end up there.

And then, when we wake up (if at all), it’s way too late.

You know, like in the God of Peace story.

So what has all of this to do with the young and beautiful Angelica? 

Tenma marrying her—despite being clearly uninterested in marriage and doing it only because it is something necessary for men of high status—would be one of these small moments. And her youth and beauty as well as her being the daughter of a state legislator are an important factor here.

You might say I’m exaggerating; yes, she might be younger, but she’s an adult, and her being the daughter of a bigwig isn’t really a big deal. It’s a norm in these circles.

The problem is: all of this is part of a patriarchal ideal. A woman’s greatest assets are her youth and beauty (ah, if there was a way to immortalize these traits!) and how controllable she is. The central figure behind her is her father; she’s nothing without his high status (see the Heinemanns) just like a man is nothing without power (this is, of course, an oversimplification for the sake of this post).

It’s something Tenma doesn’t question—he just follows a certain path. 

How many other norms wouldn’t he question if it wasn’t for his journey? 

[moldsporr]

Violent over the fact THIS fucking thing is helping me realize Gender

Like. Yeah. Okay. Okay

Sometimes Riri is this potato blob. Sometimes Riri is a cute girl. Sometimes Riri is a cute boy. Always a wizard. And that is. Me. But robot. Egads. I want to crush Riri in my hands why are you like me

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

on one hand, i dislike the fact that the only non-binary character in spop is a reptile-looking shapeshifter.

on the other hand, as a genderqueer person myself, i wish i was a reptile-looking shapeshifter.

[momoruuu]

hello Howl nation, may I submit Howl wearing an outfit I recently put together for your judgement?

[apostate-in-an-alcove]

Remarkable how cishet women whine and cry all day long about misogyny and how patriarchy forces roles onto them because of their gender but simply seeing a woman propose to a man is enough to make them switch sides and become the biggest advocates for patriarchy and strict gender roles.

[sanguineterrain]

ohhh how about 30: “one more chapter.” from list 3 with stevie? i feel like he loves sitting you between his legs and making you read to him! no doubt you'll make it spectacularly fluffy <3

i swear i'll get to all of these requests 😭

a smidgen of angst but mostly fluff. friends to lovers. steve being a cutie 💓 gn!reader. thank u for requesting bb

****

"... I shall go, notwithstanding. It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him."

You pause and turn. Steve is tucked beside you, hair shielding his face. You admire him for a moment; you study his hand that rests on the pillow, veins stretched taut. You watch him breathe and the width of his shoulders that rise and fall as he does so. You track the little slice of skin that peeks out where his shirt is rucked up.

God, you are in deep shit.

He must be asleep. You can leave now, though you want to do anything but. It's getting harder to every day.

But you have to. You have to because if you don't, your stupid feelings will get in the way, and you're sure to say something that'll permanently damage this friendship you've forged.

And you can't do that. It doesn't matter how you feel; you can't lose Steve.

"'Y'd you stop?"

You jump. Steve pushes his lion's mane back and blinks up at you.

He is beautiful. You should've left when you had the chance.

"Huh? Oh, um, because I... I have to go."

"Go? You just got here," he says with a frown.

You laugh. "No, Steve, I didn't just get here. I've been reading for almost an hour, actually."

"That's barely any time," he declares. "C'mon, one more chapter."

"You fell asleep!"

"No, I was listening! 'S just your voice is so nice, I started to rest my eyes." Steve pouts. "Not my fault."

"Oh, for—I am not your personal lecturer, Steve. You know you can read this on your own."

"Well, you know I'm not gonna do that," he says, sitting up. "Anyway, why d'you have to go? You can just stay over. You have clothes here."

The universe must be testing you. Cruelly so. You take one step back, trying to create space, and Steve takes five steps forward, closing the distance all over again. You're friends, but sometimes Steve washes clothes you leave at his place and makes you breakfast and curls up next to you when you watch a movie.

And then that line—that quintessential line that separates friends and definitely-not-friends—blurs. You try to grab it, and you grab Steve instead. And you fight to find the line again, but Steve just snuggles deeper and makes more waffles and eggs over easy and then–then—

"Hey." Steve waves a hand in front of you. "Where'd you go?"

"Sorry. Uh, nowhere. I, um... my mom, she doesn't like me walking this late."

"But I'd drive you home."

"Yes, but—"

You struggle to untangle yourself. Steve'll see through you. He's a lot more perceptive than most people give him credit for. He'll sense something is up. But you can't worry about that.

You shove your book under your armpit and hold it tightly. Steve kneels on the edge of the bed, face scrunched.

"I always drive you home," he says. "And you used to stay over all the time. Why don't you anymore?"

"I do stay over," you argue senselessly.

"No, you don't. You're always in a rush to get home these days."

God, you hate that. You hate how torn up he sounds. You don't mean to do it. You never want to make Steve sad.

"I just..." You glance down at your book. "I have a nervous mother. You know how she is. After the earthquakes..."

"But she trusts me," Steve says. "And you used to not care about what she said. Why are you avoiding me?"

Steve's cheek has pillow marks. You've never seen him so relaxed. Sometimes, it looks like he hasn't slept in years.

"I'm not avoiding you," you say. "I just... I can't read another chapter, Steve."

"You don't have to. We can do anything you want."

No, not anything. He has no idea what he's promising.

Your gaze dips to his lips.

"I'll come over tomorrow," you plead.

"Y/N," Steve murmurs, and it doesn't sound any way he's ever said your name before.

It holds weight.

You remain quiet, barely breathing as he takes your hands in his and pulls you so your knees press against the bed.

"If I do anything you don't like," he begins, impossibly soft. "You knock some sense into me with that book, 'kay?"

"I would never," you whisper.

Steve closes his eyes before you close yours. You're glad he's so confident to do as much.

And then he kisses you.

He tastes like mint gum, but his mouth is hot like cider. You gasp. Your book falls to the floor.

Steve pulls back in alarm, hands on your face.

"Y'okay?"

"Keep kissing me," you demand, chasing his mouth.

So he pulls you back on the bed, and he does just that. Steve eases you back onto his pillow. His hair tickles your cheek. You kiss him until you need air.

"Okay," you say against his jaw.

"Okay, what?" Steve asks, still gentle.

"I'll read you another chapter."

He grins and kisses you again.

[not-poignant]

I feel like the folks who are like 'yeah but queer has been an actual slur whereas gay and homosexual have not' should maybe learn some queer history.

They were both considered such slurs for such a long time that university papers couldn't use them, because they were too derogatory. They had to say 'men who have sex with other men' because gay and homosexual were too derogatory, too much of a *clears throat* slur if you will, to put them in academic papers as anything other than hate speech.

I beg. Please learn some queer history. No word for us has ever not been a slur against us. We reclaim. We move on.

[rtlstuff]

JKR Writing Fleur Delacour: So this french bird is super sexy but she's also incredibly shallow and vain and snooty, y'know how the French are. She's high fem which is a bad thing, tomboys are the best. She's also just incredibly annoying and full of herself. Constantly making herself the centre of attention even though nobody likes her and they call her phlegm behind her back. Hilarious, right?

90% of Fanfics when Writing Fleur Delacour: At first she comes off as entitled & full of herself, but as time goes on it's clear she's actually incredibly kind, compassionate and loyal. She also has a keen sense of matters of the heart. For the younger characters she takes on the role of a wise older sister. She's loyal and nurturing and and will always be there if you need someone to talk to. She is from a noble matriarchal race of fierce warriors and will fight tooth and nail to defend what is hers.

[serpercival]

Thought to myself last night, "hey Percy, why is it that you feel horrendously uncomfortable every single time you try to write women in your smut?" and wow, Percy's Brain, that's a great question. We should think about that. Surely the answer is "a combination of internalized misogyny and fetishization of gay men" but NO apparently the correct answer is "bottom dysphoria so bad that it made me think I was ace for a decade when really things are just Wrong" so that's great this is great information to have how the fuck do i even begin to deal with this

[isawthismeme]