#meanwhile the podcasters are all incels

[acidbathcat]

one thing is so many main stream islamic scholars like yasir qadi, noman ali khan, mufti menk, etc are surprisingly very progressive in terms of how they talk about women. i saw a globally famous sheikh do a QandA and someone asked him about marrying 4 wives at once. his answer was “are you stupid? this is pathetic.” and has advised against polygamy every time. another time a woman told him a man who wanted to propose to her asked her what her “body count” was. he said “this is extremely disrespectful to you and you should never talk to him again.” and i’ve rarely seen them police what women are doing and instead are constantly putting the responsibility on men to behave. and i can’t really wrap my head around the disconnect. if all the scholars are generally decent and good men, then why are so many muslim men continuing to be the exact opposite. is it so deeply engrained in the culture that not even the most pious and respected can change their minds?

meanwhile there’s a whole running joke on instagram about muslim male “podcasters” (all westerners) that talk solely about what women should do such as “you can’t wear a winter jacket over your abaya” and other stupid shit, and they have NO education or qualification to speak on it. to be a scholar you need like 10 years of schooling/a PhD in theology. it’s extremely sinful to preach without any knowledge.

anyway don’t offer insight if you don’t know what i’m talking about because it’s way too complicated for me to explain from the beginning and if no one knows what i’m saying then pretend i’m talking to myself

+ i’ve only observed all this because my dad leaves youtube on auto play blasting lectures full volume all evening so i’m forced to listen.

[bucknastysbabe]

Handsome Devil • C. Cole

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4.3k of uhhh I love this little guy lets break him

Tags: PEGGING, prostate massage, anal sex, oral (f and m! receiving) femdom, modern au, college au, Criston is actually a little Baby Girl but pretends to be Big Man, like he’s a touch-starved needy SLUT, enemies to lovers, fast burn, Degredation and dirty talk, feminization, alcohol use, Alicent is a sad lesbian and I stand by this, man tears, subby spacey boy, Alicent is DONEEEE

Taglist: @arcielee @bambitas @moncherrii @starogeorgina @valeskafics @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @sugarpoppss2 @lovelykhaleesiii @thought--bubble @fairysluna

The more you learned about the enigmatic Criston Cole, the less you wanted to know. Mainly because his bravado was a bluff you could only seem to see. He listened to those idiotic chauvinist podcasts. You’d almost asked Alicent why she brought the asshole around so often.

But you knew. They both got dumped by Rhaenyra, who was moving on as they stewed. Her new man was quite hot. Poor Ali, she was the epitome of sad sapphic poetry. Stuck in the ways of her upbringing— a limbo of sorts. Still, a dear friend whom you tried to uplift and support, especially after the breakup.

Meanwhile, she was getting closer to Criston. Who you had remained to have a normal conversation with. Usually, you’d argue with him until he would yell or storm out— over topics such as tampons being taxed or the gender pay gap. Alicent would merely ignore you two, pouring over a book, headphones in.

The prick was a waste of good looks in your opinion. There had to be a chink in his proverbial armor. Perhaps something under the puffed chest and nice clothes. Social media didn’t turn up much besides his frat and different dates every day of the week. He had multiple retweets of meninism or whatever the fuck incels called it these days.

The only observation you could draw from his socials and continuous annoying existence was he couldn’t keep a girlfriend. You weren’t going to reach out to Rhaenyra either.

You’d have to test your theory next time he was over with Ali. That was nearly always if he wasn’t out being a “frat star” or had class. You heard his clipped tones and her replies as you lay in bed. You’d have to get up and say hello. There was an ongoing competition to who could give the least excited greeting after all.

“Oh, you again.”

“Yep,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. You narrowed your eyes and shouldered past his stupidly good-looking body. You could feel the heat of his gaze follow your frame to the refrigerator.

“Care for something Cole?”

“Sparkling water. Anyways have you heard about this new-“

You tuned Criston’s impressively sexist commentary out, handing the sparkling water to him and landing a smack to a pert ass. It was a heavy handed smack— like the prick was some poor girl at a party. Alicent already had her headphones in, typing away, pointedly ignoring you two. Criston spluttered and gaped, brows furrowing.

“What the fuck was that for?”

His brows were pulled tight and cheeks flushed. ‘Fuck yes!’ you thought, this might be ammo. Shrugging you stated, “I dunno, figured you talk so much about these horrid men you’d want to be treated like one of their ‘bitches’, yes?”

Criston hissed, “You’re so dramatic, don’t touch me.” You couldn’t help but smirk at his trembling hands on the countertop, drink left untouched. A certain stagnancy was in the air. Making a faux expression of concern you cooed at him.

“Oh, my bad, did alpha sigma male chad Criston get his pretty ass slapped?”

He gasped, actually gasped out loud.

You changed gears, “I mean, someone needs to fuck all those emotions outta’ you. Such a whiny thing. None of your frat bros take it out on that sweet ass? Back when you were a freshman? C’mon you were soooo twinky then.”

Criston’s bravado had shattered quite more than you anticipated. His stark white knuckles on the marble counter trembled, a red flush appearing down the tan neck. He ran an exasperated hand through his curls, voice weak, “I’ve done nothing ah-of the sort. What game are you playing here? I only fuck girls.”

“The hot gossip was that Rhaenyra had you on all fours, like a sweet pup.”

He chugged the sparkling water, sweat beading on his forehead. Placing it down with a shaking hand Cole warbled, crossing his arms defensively “Th-that’s lies, fuck off, really, you’re into that degeneracy?” You laughed and sauntered off with your own drink, pausing at your bedroom door.

“If you need a good fucking, my door is open, I’d give that mouth of yours something to suck on.”

Criston visibly shivered and swallowed, adjusting his pants. Narrowing his eyes, he snatched his laptop and walked away. You blew a kiss, closing your door. Either Criston would take the bait or continue on into misery. You had a feeling it would only be a matter of time.

Ali and Criston were trashed from her sorority’s formal and you said you’d be the designated driver. You had completely forgotten until Ali sent a text, “met a hot chick walking to her dorm, Cris still needs a ride. Pleaseeeee🥺🥺🥺🥺” For the sake of Alicent getting her pussy ate for once you told her you’d pick up bozo. Which he eagerly got into your car, still taking pulls from his bottle of dark liquor.

You stared in abject horror at his disheveled state, particularly the way his pinched look was absent. Criston Cole was shitfaced to say the least. His eyes were hazy and reddened, a loose way in which he held himself, none of that tightness. Criston sat forward, whining, “Change the music, something else, ugh!”

“We have a 30-minute drive so it better be good Cole.” He clumsily plugged his phone in…and out came the wailing tones of Morrissey. You did a double take— wondering if Criston Cole was truly a fan of the ultimate sad sack music? You loved the band too but this felt...strange. Criston laid back and sang along, stretching his legs, dark hair flowing in the wind.

“The Smiths huh?”

Dark eyes regarded you slowly. He mumbled, “The- the songs, they get me. It’s s’good. I’ve heard you listen to them.”

“Yeah they’re a favorite of mine actually,” you admitted. How come he couldn’t talk to you about that? You scoffed, he was such a fucking weirdo. Criston smiled goofily, looking over at you. He laughed, “You’re being nice to me!”

“You’re not being a raging dick head, of course, I’ll return the favor Criston.”

He grinned some more, eyes out the window, singing along to the lyrics. His smile faded but he continued to softly murmur along.

And I’m not happy and I’m not sad.

“You hanging in there okay? Not feeling sick?”

“Nah, m’fine, didn’t really hit it heavy until later. When we had to dance and shit.” You smirked, prodding a broad shoulder. Criston snorted, “I don’t like to dance unless I’m properly loaded, too awkward.”

You laughed, “I love to dance! It’s not all business.”

He took another swig and rasped, “Trust me, it’s quite awful, I can deal with that shitty frat grinding for a bit, no finesse in that. You won’t catch me fist pumping around.”

You decided drunk Criston was entertaining. Fishing through the car’s compartments you asked “Wanna smoke?” He groaned in delight, “Fuck yes, Ali hates it.” You lit up one and handed it to him, suppressing the shiver at the soft touch of his warm fingertips.

You smoked along with him, belting Handsome Devil.

I say, I say, I say, I crack the whip! And you skip but you deserve it— you deserve it deserve it deserve it.

He giggled a bit, pretty face exclaiming the innuendo filled lyrics. Cole unbuttoned his stiff blazer and threw the last dregs of his cigarette out. You softly glanced over, shaking your head at this strange version of the bane of your existence. He raised a thick brow and questioned “What? You’re looking through me again.”

“You’re a fun drunk,” you laughed with eyes on the road.

“I’ve been told that I don’t know- it’s weird,” he murmured.

“It’s not weird. You don’t need a drink to lighten yourself up,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “Or be a raging chauvinist.”

Criston narrowed his eyes, lightly shoving you by the shoulder. You giggled and yelped, “Hey- easy there- I’m driving!” Criston snorted, “Then drive and don’t insult me. Also, I’m taking Ali’s bed, better than that shit they give me at the frat house.”

Criston is alone in the apartment with you. That would be a first. You merely nodded with a weak, “Aye-aye captain.” He asked for another cigarette, singing and smoking. You would peer at his relaxed face and shoulders, smiling softly.

It would be back to normal come morning.

He was a bit drunker than you expected upon arrival. Criston stumbled a bit closing the car door, clumsy footsteps leading to the stairs. You followed along, getting out your key and snickering. Cole smelled good; a mix of cologne, cigarettes, and expensive bourbon. You ignored the way he was towering over you.

You unlocked the door and let him in, turning back to lock it again. As you twisted again, the brunette’s big hands and lips were on your face. His voice cracked as he moaned, “Want you so fucking bad, c’mon baby, c’mon.” You’d love to indulge him but the man was wasted.

Gently removing yourself from him you shook your head to state, “Criston. You’re drunk. Maybe sleep this off a little before making moves.” He frowned, puppy eyes shining pitifully. He huffed, running a hand through his wind-blown hair. “Right, right, m’sorry, I just.” He began to walk away.

“You just what?”

Criston shot you the most pitiful look. The type of look that made you want to baby him. Then make him cry. You leaned toward babying him right now. Criston untied his laces, voice sulky, “You intimidate me so I just act like a prick. I thought since the other day you might be interested.”

You sighed at the pouting man.

“Criston, darling, I really wish we didn’t have this moment when you’re fucked up. No funny business but you can cuddle with me tonight. Since you look like a sad puppy.”

He seemed to brighten a bit, apologizing, “I- I know! And don’t call me that.”

Rolling tired eyes, you moved into your bedroom while stripping. He stared at you merely clad in underwear and a thin tank. Maybe you could play around with him in the morning? Alicent will want to play sleepover at least two more nights before the inevitable breakdown.

Criston eventually shuffled in, wearing his briefs and dumb little argyle socks. He climbed clumsily onto the bed, you chiding, “Under here dummy, here!” He snickered, warm body sidling to your own. A tan arm wrapped its way around your waist, the man like a damn Koala the way he plastered himself to you.

He pressed a few little kisses before getting batted on the head. Criston groaned before snuffling, “You’re so strange, God, make me feel goddamn crazy.” His legs intertwined with your own, lips smirking against your nape.

“So does this mean you aren’t always…so sexist?” you asked.

He didn’t reply but you knew the answer. Sleep reached the pair of you easily, especially poor drunk Criston. He’d be alright after some breakfast. The man laced his fingers with yours, dreaming of happy things.

You awoke with a very hard dick slotted between your ass cheeks. Criston still had a death grip on you— inky curls tickling your face. Raising a brow you took inventory of the situation. The man was not awake. But he was groaning and rutting against your ass.

This should be good.

“Criston- uhhh- Criston!,” you yelped. Brown eyes opened wide, his cute face half red and curls adorably sleep-mussed. He retracted himself in a flail of limbs, apologizing profusely. He seemed to be getting more frantic until you put a hand on his surprisingly still-hard dick.

Criston’s wide eyes flicked down to your hand and back up to your dead serious face. He gulped, “I- uh- enjoyed last night. Sorry.” Holding back a laugh, your hand tightened a little on his girth, straining the dark fabric. The man was bigger than you thought, especially after all that horrid talk.

He whimpered a little, eyelids fluttering, dark lips falling open. You questioned the man “Well, Ali won’t be here for a bit. Maybe I can make good on my promise Hm?” Another whimper graced your ears. Criston whined softly, “Please, yes, please.”

You immediately straddled him, Criston groaning, remaining pliant. Caressing his cheek you asked “How’s the hangover? Maybe some breakfast and water first? I’ll be a good little housewife and make it for you.” He scoffed, lips turning up a hair, “I always thought you had it in you. Sure.”

You ignored his comments while making some French toast. Soon you’d have the man crying and shaking, Criston could cling to his manhood while he ate. Immediately after— you two had climbed back into bed, you atop his slim hips, the tank top was far gone.

His big hands greedily pawed at your tits, Criston lapping into your mouth. You had reached around to curl your fingers in slightly overlong hair, moaning into his mouth. You’d been lazily rutting your hips against his cock, enjoying the man trying to cut off his moans.

What was he going to do when you had two fingers in his ass playing with his prostate?

You smirked and pulled back, him chasing you forward, brows pinching. Sliding both of your palms down his chest you cooed, “Lay back, I got you, sweetheart.” Criston fell back like a chopped tree, dark eyes looking up. You inched down tan skin until you sat between his thighs, patting his hips so you could get his underwear off. His adorably soaked fucking briefs.

“You’re excited hm? All wet for me?”

Criston shivered, thighs twitching as he bit his bottom lip, swallowing audibly. You eased off his underwear, fighting back laughter as you threw them to the side. It was the reverse of what usually happened in bed for the man— you knew that. His cock was flushed and gorgeous as it slightly dribbled pre onto olive skin.

You hummed in excitement, laying on your belly as you took his length in hand. Criston’s stomach twitched as he breathed in sharply, face agonized. You immediately lowered your head to the slit and laved off the pre, eyes coming up to meet his.

“Oh fucking…fuck,” he muttered, hands fisting in the comforter. He was holding back— big time. You would get Criston to unwind soon. You felt the poor baby didn’t know what was hitting him. Swallowing down the head of his cock you rolled his balls with your other hand, making the man groan and twitch again.

You bobbed your head in a familiar rhythm, making sure to drool all over his cock, the wetter the better. Coming up to flick your tongue at the frenulum or his sensitive tip had more spit rolling down to his balls and Criston throwing his head back to moan.

You’d try a little stimulation first before shocking the man with the anal question. While still sucking, the hand holding his balls crept back to shove two fingers up into that sensitive thin skin. You felt him from the other side, that hard gland was a bit swollen. Good god, had the guy not cum in days?

Criston’s entire demeanor shifted as you stroked his taint. His legs subtly widened, stomach sucking in as he let out the tiniest little whine. You pulled off his cock immediately, still stroking as you needled, “Crisssston, you like me playing with your special spot? Spreading your legs for me like a slut.”

He whimpered and a hand came up to his head as if to hide his eyes. Cole managed to reply after heaving a couple of times. The man moaned, “You- you can’t! Ohmygod s’fucking good- no!”

Kissing his trembling hips you kept massaging and stroking, murmuring in a more gentle tone “It’s okay sweetheart, it’ll be our little secret, I think you’ll feel good if you let me play some more. Really milk you dry. You want that baby?”

He moaned long and loud, cock slightly spitting onto his messy stomach. You grinned, watching Criston unravel by the second. He was a goddamn princess, wanting to be babied and loved on. He babbled, “Please yes— don’t tell anyone please I want it so so so bad please!”

You smiled at him, pressing lips to his hipbone again, shushing his pleading. This was going to be a fun ride for your new toy. You eased your fingers back, instructing Cole to bend his legs, he huffed and immediately followed the order.

It took a lot of petting and hushing until you’d breached his tight rim. You had to get up and grab lube when Criston started to ramble and tighten in apprehension. He was looser around your fingers but still wound tighter than a bowstring.

Every breath was a soft little noise, his dark orbs nervously flicking down to watch. You slipped your middle finger along the pointer, sitting flush up against his thighs for comfort. Watching his face you fingered deeper, fingers awkwardly searching for his prostate. You knew you’d found it when he jolted and shouted abruptly, tensing up.

He mewled like a cute little slut when you dragged your fingers across the gland, legs tightening around your hips before he arched and spread wider for you. Cooing in surprise you remarked, “Good boy, yesss, spreading your legs for me like a sweet baby.”

Criston seemed to lose more control at your words, crying wordlessly and writhing as he was worked over. His hands grasped and held at your waist, nails digging in just so. You grinned and put more pressure on him. He responded easily, shuddering and whining as his cock leaked more and more.

“Please, oh my god, please more, more, touch me!”

You leaned over his trembling body, lips ghosting over his drooling ones, practically fucking him with your fingers. Criston was sloppy as he pressed swollen lips against yours, tongue desperately lapping inside, moaning all the while. Snickering at him only had him whine and try harder, brain slowly oozing out of his ears with every rough jab of your digits.

You breathed when he did, softly demanding, “You’re so damn needy Criston, come for me and loosen up pretty baby.” Swiping a lazy hand across the mess of his sensitive stomach had Cole gasping and falling apart whimpering. His trembling hands slapped to the bed as you felt his ass tighten around your fingers, cock flexing as he spilled all over his stomach.

Criston dissolved into tears, blabbering, “I-I’m still cumming, ah, mmm, I’m s-still cumming!” You smirked as you dragged across his sweet spot again, forcing another whiny sob and gush of essence out. He was writhing again, back arching to figure out whether to escape or fuck back onto your digits.

“Goodness. You’ve made a mess of yourself. Attention whore, you just needed to be coddled and loved on. Stupid little pet,” you drawled.

“Mhm, mhm, yes!,” Criston groaned, “A fucking whore.”

“You want something bigger in your ass honey? Since you’re my whore?”

His eyes rolled a little, you having to hold his cheek to get the man’s full attention. Criston stared at you with wide eyes, mouth fumbling around a response. You slid your fingers out of him gingerly, relocating to a nearby shirt, wiping your hand off.

Criston breathed, “God oh- uh- God, yes, yes I want it.”

He blinked in shock when you were back between his thighs, looming over his already used body. The polka-dotted harness and strap-on cock were secured. Criston had been quiet and pliant while you got ready, hand rubbing his achy cock, squirming and softly sighing in need. You tittered at him in sympathy, poor baby's dick had not wilted since the beginning of this excursion.

You fisted the strap with a lubed hand, smiling at Criston's little noises and trembling. Off a look alone, one would think he was either a virgin or a nympho. Sliding your non-lubed palm up his inner thigh had Criston whine deep in his chest, dark lashes fluttering across reddened cheeks. He slurred softly "M'ready, unnh, be gentle?"

Rubbing soothing circles into his lean thigh you hummed, honey dripping from your words, "Don't have to worry about a thing sweetie, I've got you. You're gonna love it I promise." Criston nodded, puppy eyes trained on you, his hands slithering to your hips to grip the flesh.

You rubbed the tip of the blunt strap against his loosened ass, inching in enough to pop the tip. Criston’s breath drew tight, eyes wide, fear flitting across his features. You shoved both of your thighs up under his, stroking tan flanks while murmuring, “Relax, s’okay baby, jus’ us Criston, relax.”

He nodded with a strangled noise, the silicon cock sliding in halfway, you laying down atop Criston. You traced a hand across his stubbled cheek to dark hair, kissing eager lips. Cole opened for you with a hopeless moan, then a cry as you jerked your hips— the fake dick all the way inside now. You whispered between kisses, “Mm- there we go- good boy- takin’ me all the way like that.”

“Uh-huh,” he garbled out, pretty eyes rolling.

His bigger arms had wrapped around your back, leaving your lower half to fuck him in a shallow rhythm, grazing his sensitive sweet spot. You had one arm up and in Criston’s hair, the other holding his hip as you fucked him. Moans fell out of his swollen mouth on every thrust, his legs flopping between tightening and falling loose.

“Aw, baby, you feel good? You being my good whore Criston?”

Criston sobbed, rutting back onto your dick and wrapping long legs around your waist. He slurred some nonsense as you fucked into him harder, angling downward to hit his prostate. Soon you struck it again, the sweet baby between your legs crying and wailing, kissing and holding you all the while.

You idly wondered if the neighbors could hear Criston being thoroughly used and broken down into mush.

He panted, “Oh, god god god, oh baby, m’gonna cum again!”

“Yeah priss? Gonna cum from having a dick in your slutty pussy?”

Criston trembled and made the most pitiful noise, blabbering and kissing frantically as his arms tightened, “Fuck! Yes!” You grinned and returned the needy little pecks, clapping your hips against his ass, watching his cock leak and swell once again. He’d probably have the orgasm of his life soon. Striking Cole deep began the fire, and then your words set him aflame, burning up as he came with another wail.

He impossibly tightened around you, cum flooding your stomachs as he whimpered, cried, and carried on like the needy little thing he was. Criston sobbed, “Pl-pl-ease don’t ever stop-p! S’go-od! Ohmygod m’all yours, only yours, forever!” You grinned and eased out of him, unclipping the strap-on so you could coddle your whiny toy.

“Such a cute baby, did so well, hmm, you needed to cum huh priss?”

Criston nodded into your neck, not wanting to let go. He asked in a tiny voice “Lemme be yours?” Stroking his slightly sweaty hair you replied, “Sure babes, just remember who blew your mind right here. You’re mine now.” He let out a soft noise, nodding pliantly, nosing and kissing your smooth skin. If you could picture it, hearts were just appearing over the man.

You’d have to talk to him again when he wasn’t a submissive mess— but Criston seemed quite eager to be petted and called pretty. Fucking Princess. You held back your laughter as the thought bubbled up. He was so damn clingy right now you could pull out a purse and he’d crawl into it, or if you had a leash? Criston Cole would definitely be excited.

He just needed to be trained up a little, s’all.

Alicent was tired. She had met a nice girl for once, but she couldn't go shack up for a week as much as she wanted to. Criston and her 'froomie' had been radio silent. The redhead feared they may have killed each other. She gently keyed into the tiny apartment and slunk in, eyes darting around.

"That's good, ah, good boy!" came the cry of Alicent's roommate. She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening in horror. Alicent wanted to melt into the floor. Dear bestie had one of her 'toys' over. Alicent could maybe duck and scramble her way into her room-- from the noises, it sounded like she was receiving some oral attention.

Ali dropped to her knees and ignored the moaning and slick noises. A deeper voice moaned something, Alicent's roommate responding, "Oh shush prissy, there's no one here. You're just being paranoid." The Hightower girl paused again, crawling behind the loveseat. The noises of very...excited cunnilingus ramped back up. She made the horrid choice to peak out before making the final cross.

Criston 'I don't eat pussy' Cole was on his knees. Eating the pussy of his mortal enemy, Alicent's roommate. Quite enjoyed it from the way he had a hand shoved down his sweats. How long had they been at it? It hit Alicent that the whole apartment reeked of marathon fucking. She could not believe this. Sure they had lowkey sexual tension but this?

Alicent scrambled across to her room, eyes forward and praying no one would notice.

"OH MY GOD- NOnONO! Christ!"

"Oh shit sorry Alicat! I didn't hear you come in! He's trained now!"

Alicent stood behind her closed door, hand over her helplessly smiling mouth. Oh my god, she couldn't be serious right now. Criston Cole broke in as the roomie's toy while she was gone. Hell must have frozen over. She laughed, Criston's miserable voice echoing from the living room. Alicent had to get away from the door so he would not hear her losing her mind. Good for them, good for them!

[aronarchy]

https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/nsambu-za-suekama-to-the-people-of-the-streets

Whiteness is a standing garrison in the US. When the slave patrols (police) cannot perform their historical duty of maintaining the settler property system, the average “citizen,” must take up arms or get the police to do it for them. Karen may lie and say a Black boy whistled at her to get him dragged out his house and killed by her white male compatriots (RIP Emmet Till); or Chad and his brethren may set a Black town on fire and demand that all the women therein, cis and trans, give their bodies over (RIP Frances Thompson).

Or, they will simply stand idly by as someone else takes up the racial-sexual violence that comes of that responsibility. They’ll complain about “sex starved incels” or about “gun control” and tell all these flavorful stories about “mental health crises” among white vigilantes or insult their intelligence as “Southerners” meanwhile doing nothing about the machinations of racial capitalism and Imperial Patriarchy because it benefits them as much as it benefits those who commit the atrocities.

And it’s entertaining too! To create all these podcasts and Netflix shows and documentaries that give you a window into the mind of white vigilante violence, school shooters, serial killers/abusers, cult leaders. To make the population feel like there’s a random and inexplicable germ of depravity that they must together study through a shared vocabulary about narcissism, multiple personalities, sociopathy, psychopathy, is the perfect way to get them feeling like they are on the side of the cops in catching these “criminals” even as the main proponents of these violences avoid jail time, get help from the cops, or get minimal jail time.

But that’s because what is really at work is the opportunity for Grand Patriarchy to use this fear mongering and say “hey, those feminists and drag queens are here to endanger your kids. They’ve got Jewish led communists and a horde of Haitian immigrants helping them.” Violence then begets violence. And when it does, some factions in the Official manifestations of Patriarchy can say, “we’ve got to catch these terrorists,” but really just invest more into the State. Another atrocity happens. The media benefits. Patriarchy is still in place. Statecraft sharpens. Those who see themselves as part of the “social contract” anchored on reproduction of a “proper” citizenry feel more invested in maintaining the “order” of the system.

.

[beetlemancy]

With how Critical Role seems to have at least 1 disk horses a week for shipping/gameplay/rules/etc, do you think other actual play podcasts has the same issue in the fandom? Or all of these are just CR exclusive because they are "the biggest one"?

I don’t know 100% because CR is my one and only (I tried others and I just don’t have the Space for them yet), but I have to imagine the discourse is equal compared to the fandom size. Like, people gonna people.

I’ve been part of other fandoms before this, we all have, and honestly like comparatively CR is not my worst. If you want to see constant toxicity, World of Warcraft forums is your goldmine. 

I think sometimes it might FEEL worse with CR because 1) we’re in it right now and 2) no matter how big the fandom gets, it does somehow feel more personal? Like with WoW, I can sit back with some popcorn and laugh about how shitty people are from a distance - but with CR, its my own friends who get shat on by the community in various ways. CR has more, like, insidious discourse? Like, people will take fictional character traits that real people have and spend a weekend talking about how if you have those traits you’re a bad person. That shit permeates, and its why we say things like ‘holy shit the biphobia/lesbophobia/ableism in this fandom wtf’ .... meanwhile in WoW, if you come across some incel in game, they’ll just send you hate mail for like an hour before moving on to the next person. Its transactional, not personal. 

[shesay]

Lolz not to sound full of myself but 95% of guys I talk with I gotta pretend like what they think is so interesting that they’re telling me abt is even remotely fascinating... meanwhile I’m using all my energy to force myself from falling asleep there and then. Men today have rly become serious bores who think Joe rogan is an intellectual & that marvel movies = art & that making lotsa money means they’re smart and successful. Boring af. I can hardly take it anymore. Omgsh and I haven’t even touched upon their political views 😣😴😴😴

Oh and the last guy I hung out with (don’t ask me why I did such a thing) actually went on about how he plans to start a podcast.

Like don’t even say girls love to chat. Guys are wayyyyyyyyyy worse

They also love drama and gossip more. & Next time I hear that being said about women I will most definitely correct that person on that false view bc today men take that cake hands down

Lmao omg srsly you’re 💯 right it’s insane how the popular gossipy cheerleader stereotype is common in tv shows and movies like mean girls etc like ofc there’re girls like that but men r literally the most dramatic trivial ppl ever plus the whole women hate each other which 2 an extent is true internalized misogyny etc but ppl seem 2 forget that men have srsly created this whole chad/incel thing as a way 2 express their hatred 2wards other men the ones women deem attractive no one talks abt that i wonder why lol.

[st4rg1r111]

It’s actually fucking pathetic how many men support the fresh & fit podcast. Their comment section is full of support from musty incels who probably do nothing but sit at their gaming system all day, drinking energy drinks & think they can get all the bitches they want meanwhile they got dirt building in their fingernails, Parmesan cheese in their foreskin, crumbs of week old shit fossilizing between their ass cheeks bc they don’t shower properly, etc… & these are the people who swear women are just property/objects. It’s always “reSpECt ouR OpiNiON aNd viEWs” when they want the freedom to be misogynistic/sexist. & when women say they hate men, they got the nerve to try to flip it & act like women are the problem. As if we don’t live in a literal patriarchy. Or they’ll say “not all men” umm yeah dumbass, if it doesn’t apply to you, then let it slide bc obviously it’s not all men. But most men are fucking insufferable & they are too up each other’s asses to see how ridiculous & pathetic they are.