#i forgot how much they reeked of misogyny

[bugbuoyx]

c/mic book mission: define women outside of their relationship with men mission immediately failed

[daisyjonesgf]

songbird // billy dunne x f. reader

based off this ask

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

summary: your mood is down at a party when a girl decides to use the opportunity to remind you how little you really mean to billy dunne. although billy is quick to comfort you.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is a nepo baby and uses it to her advantage, talking down on groupies, some period typical misogyny, cussing, cigarette smoking, mentions of drinking and drugs, unedited, no use of y/n, insecure reader, mentions of speculated cheating, arguments, implied toxic relationship although not fully explored in this fic specifically, a happy ending though!

part of the museverse, but can be read separately

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱•⋅

Sometimes, when the sun went down, and the moon wasn’t shining brightly enough to echo back at you, the world feels like it’s about to stop. The days when all the work from the years before, all the things you’d put in your body, all the hurt you’d let yourself endure begin to catch up to you. The kind of nights where everything is simultaneously too loud, but also background noise, drowning out to your own thoughts. Nights, like tonight. Where, no amount of drinking or drugs even sounded like they would fix the problem. The longing for complete and utter darkness, to just let the numbness take over, to let your body shut down. That’s exactly what had you sitting on this couch while people shouted, and jumped, and laughed around you. Just let all the noise fade away. Billy was long gone, probably high off his ass and fucking some girl who would be far more entertaining then you anyways. That didn’t matter, you’re the one who let it get this far. Fuck, none of it felt like it mattered right now, just getting into bed, wrapping a blanket around yourself, and stare at the wall until the synapses in your brain would start firing off again. You’re not snapped out of your haze by the cushion next to you pushing down, no, it’s not until a finger is tapping your shoulder, and a voice is speaking directly to you, that you let yourself zone back in.

“Do you have a cig?” The girl asks, she reeks of beer and weed, but so does everybody else.

“Yeah.” You need one yourself anyways, and grab two out of your pack, feeling her looking at you, squinting as if she just can’t remember where she knows your face from. You hand it to her and she lights it up using the flame from the candle on the coffee table, a candle that couldn’t be working any less, and you follow suit.

“Oh my god, you’re that glorified groupie!” She finally explains, almost like she’s congratulating herself for remembering. “Of course you’d the one fucking moping around, I didn’t believe them when they said you were that much of a drama queen, but look at you. It is fucking pathetic, if you just got out there and had a drink maybe he’d actually be paying attention to you.”

You were long enough in the game to know that you could never let them know if what they said had any tear-inducing impact, “Excuse me, who the hell are you?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot you thought you were better than us. Far too good to talk with the likes of me, you only buddy up with people who can get you somewhere, right? Even though everybody knows, at the end of day you will always be just like the rest of us. He will always go home with someone else the moment he gets bored of you, and then you’re really a nobody.”

Even if it stings, even if she’s reiterating things you’ve beat yourself down with over and over again, never let them know your weaknesses. Instead you laugh as you take a hit off of the cigarette, “What’s your name?”

For a millisecond she’s slightly taken aback, but she’s trying to hit back just as confidently as you appear to be doing. “Carol. Carol C.”

“Mmmm.” You nod, making each time you put that cigarette back between your lips create a pause. “So there’s more than one Carol then?” She nods, and you nod back. “What is it you actually want to do in L.A., Carol C.? Why’d you come here, I can bet it wasn’t to chase around rock bands.”

Carol is tossing her hair in a way she thinks looks chic, but it doesn’t look natural enough when she does it. “Everyone always told me I could be an actress, that I’ve got the type of face people want to see on the big screen.”

You’re nodding again, slowly, as you finish off the rest of your cigarette before stamping it out even slower, and then adjusting your position to face her with a smile. “And that’s never gonna happen for you, sweetheart.”

“What?” Her face is dropping again, and you can tell she’s right back to being pissed at you, which is exactly where you want her. If you know her words are picking at open wounds, why not get a few jabs in yourself?

“You’re never gonna be a Hollywood star. Maybe, you would have had a chance at being an extra in a couple things, but certainly not anymore. And you want to know why?” You don’t even give her a chance to try to answer, “Because I’m not Carol fucking C. I’m not one face in the crowd who can’t even be a groupie without having to use her last name to differentiate herself. I don’t have to fight for my chance to be on the screen, or to get attention from some stupid ass, goddamn rockstar. I’m just not you,and I never will be. You want to bitch and complain to all the other girls that I somehow both am not better than any of you, but also have everything handed to me on a silver platter? You’ve ruined your fucking career already with one comment, and I can mope or do as many drugs or throw as many tantrums as I want, and at the end of the day the industry is in my family’s pocket, not yours. At the end of the day, Billy Dunne can sleep with whoever he wants and yet I’m still the girl in his house at the end of the night. This world is being spoon-fed to me, sweetheart, I will never be just one of the Carol’s.” You grab the cigarette straight out of her hand and stamp it out before you’re standing up, “You better find a new dream, Carol C.”

You’re out of that house as fast as you can be. As good as it felt to snap back, to just say everything you could say to cut her deeper, it was still just self defense. Regardless of all the power you could have, all the attention, the influence, at the end of the day she was right. To Billy Dunne, you meant nothing until he snapped his fingers and decided you did for a while. You were no better than anyone else, hanging around, vying for his attention, for his love. No amount of reasoning could argue with the fact that you’d let your entire life now be defined by being the so-called girlfriend of a rockstar who didn’t even want to call it that. A man who couldn’t let him love you without trying to tear your life apart whenever it even so much as frightened him. You mindlessly walk past all the people drinking and chatting in the front, up the gravel driveway. You don’t even care where you’re going, you’re about to cry and you don’t need anyone else to see that. You don’t need any more fuel to the fire that will remind people how pathetic you really are. Letting some random girl’s comments get to you, even if they were the truth. You’re up the driveway, turning onto the road when your name is being yelled, you already know who it is, and you don’t have the energy to deal with it, with him. He’s probably pissed at you for making a scene, ruining his night, making it seem like he has some hysterical girlfriend that he’s tied down to and has to control. So, you keep walking, but the footsteps just start coming up behind you.

“Look, I’m sorry, I know, I’m ruining your night. I’m just tired, I’ll get home, you keep doing whatever you’re doing, Billy!” You turn around and he’s already a lot closer than you’d expected him to be.

“Hey, what’s wrong, baby?” Pausing you walking makes you realize the tears that were already streaming down your face, and you’re quick to wipe them off, as he takes a step closer. “Some girl started freaking out in there, saying you were gonna ruin her career or something.”

You can’t help but roll her eyes, “I’m sure she’ll get over it, I wasn’t actually going to do anything.” Before you can take a step back, his hands are on both of your arms, thumbs rubbing circles on your skin.

“What’s going on?” Billy is actually serious, sincere, and it feels like you’re just staring into his eyes for an eternity before you just start bawling. “Oh, hey, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” So fast he’s got you in his arms, letting you soak his shoulder with your tears.

You don’t know how long you’re just sobbing there before you finally are able to choke out some words, “How long until you’re bored of this, Billy?”

“What are you talking about, baby?” He’s adjusting your head just enough to see your face, cold, calloused hands, rubbing your cheek in a way that makes you want to melt into him.

“The push and pull of it all, Billy. We’re a disaster, I’m a disaster, everyone knows it. How much longer until the cycle stops being fun for you?”

“You’re not the disaster, you’ve never been the disaster.” Billy takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a second, “I could never let my girl go. Okay? Do you understand me?” When you slowly nod he’s pulling you back into his arms, trying to hide that he wants to cry too. “I’m so scared that I’m gonna break you, but I’m doing it anyway. But, it’s you and me, baby. You are special. You always fucking will be.” He’s pressing your foreheads together when suddenly he’s laughing, just the smallest amount.

“What?” You can’t help but smile a little too.

“Nothing.” He’s trying to suppress it, but then he’s looking at you and laughing again, “Nothing! It’s just, um, we do have to go because I may have punched Richie Jarvis in the face for saying he’d be willing to “take you off my hands.”

“Billy Dunne!” You’re trying to scold him, but you’re smiling and laughing too. Ever so lightly shoving him, but immediately kissing him anyways. “Let’s go home, I’d never have picked Richie Jarvis anyways.”

“Good because we can probably never come here again!” Billy chuckles, arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk back to the car. He’ll always have you hook, line, and sinker.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱•⋅

thank you so much for reading, I appreciate all of you so much! as always likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are always very appreciated. thank you so much for the community and all the support ❤️

[davyjoneslockr]

I feel I've just seen the tip of a giant iceberg float scarily close to my boat, but what is the context of 'i hope jakey dies'? Who is jakey and why did his gf (i am assuming) become the target of such awful biphobia?

I’m no expert because I never really got into the joke much, but basically, “I hope Jakey dies” is a meme that started here, making fun of a cringey dynamic some m/f couples have. So don’t worry, Jakey isn’t a real person, just kind of an archetype for an assumedly mediocre “golden retriever”-type cishet boyfriend. Pretty harmless hater brand tumblr humor, basically.

(Honestly, the original post is also where the first red flag kinda popped up for me. The first replies were whatever, but, especially since Jakey is, again, supposed to be an archetype of cishet man, “nonbinary Jakey” to refer to someone’s AMAB nonbinary partner seems. Idk. Telling of how people view AMAB nonbinary people sometimes.)

After that, it kinda just ended up spreading around as a joke here and there, and tbh I kinda forgot about it until that weird Barbie post this ask is in reference to. There’s not much to say about it that hasn’t already been said, but to me, 1) it’s pretty obvious that the original tiktok was either exaggeration or outright bait, and 2) even if it wasn’t, it’s maybe a little cringe, but harmless. But regardless, people are using it to mock (or outright wish harm or death upon) bi women for dating men, or implying that bi women are actually straight and just pretending to be queer (for attention? I guess?). And “I hope Jakey dies” has kinda become the phrase all those folks are spamming ad nauseam. I’ve seen a lot of comments about how people defending the tiktok or calling out the biphobia are just “defending men,” but like. I’m not just seeing things right. This whole thing reeks of misogyny and weird gender essentialism. Because the center of the joke usually isn’t even on the man or “Jakey,” it’s on the woman dating him for expressing that she likes him or whatever.

And also I really hate how people seem to be extremely comfortable with threatening people, or hoping they die or kill themselves, over something that’s “cringe” or somewhat annoying. Like it’s genuinely gross behavior. But idk maybe that’s just me.

[fedonciadale]

Few last asks here reminded me when I was anti-sansa (yeah, shame), just when books came out. Let's be real, I was projecting mean girl stereotype onto Sansa (+I believed she bullied Ary@). I was hoping "she will learn her lesson" and apologize to her sister(back then my fave). All in all, I didn't straight up hated her, I was just (REALLY) annoyed by her behaviour (now I love her more then Ary@). Aand then all the shit happened. (1/2)

(2/3) Eleven y.o. girl abused and molested by whole court? I felt so uncomfortable that I had to stop reading after her chapters and take a deep breath. And this awful assault by Hound. I still prefered Ary, but I was just hoping for Sansa to get out of this court of psychos and be(and feel) safe. Years later I found Tumblr and started reading how people were HAPPY that she was MOLESTED, that she DESERVED it. I quit fandom for almost twelve(!) years. And now I've blacklisted them all.

(3/3 sorry, it's so long) I must say: I don't understand this level of hate. I'm not bashing individual blogs. I'm just curious why general audience reacts so badly to girly kid that dreams of true love. If it was, idk, 2%, 5% I'd be cool. But it's sth around 40% of fandom that hates her dearly. Why? Pov trap wasn't THAT deep. At worst time she was insensitive not downright cruel. I can't quote anything, I block this kind of blogs at once, but I don't get this vitriol at teenage girl.

Hi there!

Sorry, this was sitting in my drafts and I sort of forgot about it over Christmas. 😳

I fell for the PoV trap as well and I liked Ary@ more at first as well (I honestly vibed with her because I was never very girly).

By the end of AGOT I pitied Sansa though. I mean regardless what she had done, Joffrey forced her to look at her dead father’s head. In that moment I felt bad that I had ever been annoyed with her, because surely you wouldn’t wish that kind of experience even on your worst enemy? And at that point I was  still convinced that Sansa played a role in Ned’s capture (which is not true).

Sansa grew much more on me during ACOK. I think I really appreciated her when she saved Dontos despite her own fear. That was when I began to like her. I was also a Jon fan (although season 7 and 8 Jon can rot for all I care), but the amount of hate Sansa got for the stupidest things made me defend her actions.

There are so many people in ASOIAF who are really vile but somehow a teenage girl who fought with her sister and called her names is somehow the worst.

As for why she gets so much hate? The answer is rather easy and frustrating at the same time: It’s the dudebros who only like “badass” women and the misogynists. Both are not necessarily male. I won’t name anyone but there is one blog with particularly astonishing Sansa takes and they are as far as I know a woman, but in my head they are always “dudebro” because they reek of internalized misogyny.

The answer is so frustrating because the misogyny comes so natural to some of them that they never question why they can excuse Bobby B for hitting “that bitch” Cersei (and Cersei is a villain, but that does not mean that it is o.k. that Robert hits her), or Jaime for being slightly condescending or Theon for how he treats the captain’s daughter (because he is so in pain, uwu - I mean, he is in pain, but in ACOK he clearly has a long way to go yet), or Tyrion for exploiting his sex worker Shae (and killing her), or.... you get it.

But somehow, a girl that dreams of a husband who is nice to her and takes her on a pleasure ride on a bark with puppies - that girl is somehow the worst character of ASOIAF.

Apart from the misogyny I think it’s also another effect that happens: GRRM forces you to live through Cat’s and Sansa’s uncomfortable and horrid experiences and their suffering from the patriarchy but there is no way out. No secret power they can activate, nothing. It’s just their wits and survival instinct. You cannot read Sansa chapters and be comforted by the security that she will escape that. It is as if GRRM shakes his readers and forces them to look at it, and apparently that is - especially for some men - very hard to swallow. It is uncomfortable because the readers are forced to look at that experience. And that is why some of them refuse to acknowledge it by victim blaming Sansa. She was a brat, she deserved it. She bullied Ary@, she deserved it. She betrayed Ned, she deserved it. If you look at Sansa’s suffering and tell yourself that she deserves it you can avoid admitting that the system as such is flawed.

It’s the knee jerk reaction of “not all men” or “some women profit from patriarchy” or “feminine women should just be less feminine.” If you blame the victim you don’t have to think about the fact, that it should not be like that. In a way you protect your own mindset from going to deep into how fucked up it is that women are supposed to dress appropriately and stay at home so that they won’t get assaulted instead of that men are supposed to just behave decently.

Thanks for the ask!

[wanderingdreamer2]

Doomsday?

During election day, me and my mother only voted in the afternoon due to time constraints, considering I also have meetings with my clients in the morning. As we go on with our respective precincts, it is inevitable to hear sentiments from voters who are 40-50+ older than me. “Leni? Wala manay klaro?” One voter said. Not surprised, forgot to mention that he’s also a man. I expressed disgust towards them, while hearing them mock the candidate felt inhumane. I did the deed, voted peacefully, and quite shock to see how I am the only student, or a voter who is less than 20 years old inside the precinct, but I didn’t budge. 

My mother, who is assigned to another school and another precinct, since she didn’t transfer yet to my registered address, went on and vote. I waited for her, but then, the line didn’t move because it was announced that the vote counting machine was broken. We waited for hours, 3 hours specifically, until the VCM was back and running. My mom had to move faster and vote, considering that the line is really packed. My stomach was grumbling, unable to endure the hunger that I am holding in. I had to contact my father, telling him to bring a packed dinner for us to consume while I am waiting and after my mother already casted her votes. 

Tons of chismis circled through the area, talking about how vote buying is very rampant in the precincts, and in the municipality that we were registered in. My ninang and ninong, who ran for Governor and Representative respectively, was very much concerns my mom, considering she also works for them as the Municipal Assessor in the municipality. She even lit candles the night before the elections, praying for a safe and fair elections and for them to win of course. By then, it was rumored that other candidates, especially in the Governor position, was accused of vote buying, giving 2-5 thousand pesos to voters. A commotion happened before we went to the precincts, where a sudden incident happened while voters are waiting in line, causing a distraction. 

Mindanao is shockingly, not a Leni-supported region. Most of the voters are UNITeam supporters, even from Cagayan de Oro City alone. Including some of them are my batchmates, highschool peers, Student Body Officers, Citizen Advancement Training officers, and even my teachers in Highschool, which I don’t have a fond relationship with anymore. Most of them are living in middle to upper class households, showing reeks of privilege, misogyny and internalized misogyny over assessing what candidate they are in favor to. Throughout the campaign period, some of them are constantly mocking other candidates, sharing misinformation regarding such topics, especially the history of the Marcos dictatorship and Martial Law. 

Now, if I remember vividly, we did had a Araling Panlipunan subject on our last year in Junior Highschool, specifically about Contemporary Issues, and Martial Law is one of the topics discussed in the course. It is a disgrace seeing the people that I know disregard such information from school, and I am emphasizing this deeply, applauding for their ignorance and pettiness. It is a slap in the face, that even MY AP Teacher is also a BBM-Duterte Supporter. I just can’t help it. It’s depressing. Sad. Bitter. Disappointing. Outrageous. Disgraceful. I can insert tons of negative words here for better emphasis. 

As an individual born after Martial Law, it might be unbeknownst to me, that the past events can mentally scar the vicitims of that era. With my very upscale empathy, supporting a dictator is also a red flag. Fast forward, the unofficial results were in, and it was deeply shocking, to the point where I had to cry silently in my room and hear judgements from both of my parents which are also dismayed in the tallies. Robin Padilla as a Senator? Jesus Christ. If only I know that I’m still living in the dream, I’d consider that. But now? For the love of God, people are just-- unbearable. 

Is this, Doomsday? A cycle of horrors? I’m not sure, and I hope it won’t be.