#nobody talks about it but they get lonely

[seewetter]

Why try and worsen "the male loneliness epidemic" when it's a current right-wing talking point and the right-wing is using this male loneliness "crisis" to suggest their politics as solutions?

If the right-wingers are combating a real or imagined health issue (e.g. loneliness, a mental health issue), you bragging how you make that health worse in the name of feminism? No help to women. Sorry.

A few Tumblr users like yourself having thoughts like this won't hurt anyone, but if the 4B movement takes off and publicly brags that they hurt other for political reasons, this means the right won't even have to fabricate claims. The public will learn about those intentions straight from you talking about it. No one is distorting your views, those are your views. And that's my problem because the right will make me seem like that movement much more famous than myself.

This is honestly worse than when progressives ignored what happened to thousands of girls in Rotherham and Sheffield, or how Tumblr handled statistics on the opioid crisis. In those cases people were at least ignoring information they were uncomfortable with, but with 4B, people are clearly not just ignoring human suffering, but getting excited about causing it.

I totally agree nobody is entitled to a relationship or children or a marriage or other people's bodies. That doesn't mean that a political ambition of ignoring and sidelining people and making them lonely on purpose is a plan that coherently fits into a wider liberation.

What's the underlying fantasy here?

Either it's the idea that all men deserve it. Or the idea that bad men deserve it and good men (or non-bad men) need to awaken from apathy to help women.

All men deserve it? That contradicts all complaints of the 4B movement. I mean, if all men deserve it, they all deserve it no matter how they behave. If how they behave doesn't matter, why is 4B complaining?

4B advocates might answer: the protest never ends, men are irredeemable, the protest itself is an intimidation tactic that makes men a little less awful, but it never fully succeeds. But here's how that reads to anyone with experience in observing political movements. Not in a cool "we are doomed but fight anyway" kind of way and more in a "we don't know what we are actually fighting against, we haven't tried planning for a successful political future where men behave better. We don't have concrete political goals, we will protest with the vaguest goals of men changing because we pressure them and we will pursue that strategy forever." Which lets be real doesn't sound very invested in having a better life and doesn't sound nearly as cool as fighting a doomed fight because the alternative is worse...because if you fight a doomed fight but can't be bothered with actual movement-building beyond hyping people up to punish others, you're just building the ideal justification for a right-wing administration to crush you and use any threat you pose as a justification to curtail your future rights and freedoms.

But wait! Maybe the 4B hates all men because all men are bad men BUT unlike your South Korean colleagues you want men to become women! YAAAY! Now as a wlw and trans woman myself, I can deeply appreciate women. But that's not what 4B mainly hates about men. A "bad man" is by definition something else than a man as a general category. A bad man is bad for reasons. If you can't trust the idea that men can deserve not being called bad men, if you can't ever trust any man anywhere to be better than that... then those are actually additional political goals your movement needs. Those are goals you have left out of your political pamphlets by accident(?). Goals such as creating the conditions for building trust (exploring how to figure out how to determine what individual men can do to become trustworthy) and goals like how to improve men's behaviour so they aren't bad men. If you don't believe that bad men can ever become good men, please re-read the previous paragraph to make sure your concerns have not actually already been covered.

But wait again! What if 4B's underlying fantasy is to punish all men for the crimes of bad men, so that good men will stand up for what's right, then how will that work if those good men are currently lonely and miserable? Is lonely misery a good starting point for taking positive action? When you are at your low point in life and just wallow in misery lying in bed, is this your most productive moment? And are bad men actually "lonely", do bad men only keep female company? Will the bad men accept your punishment and willingly unfollow Andrew Tate?

Keep these things in mind before you allow the 4B movement to tease the tiger and cause a massive misogynistic backlash against all feminism. You can't hate yourself into a better place and you can't hate others into a better place either.

american women your objective for the next four years is to make men miserable. exacerbate that male lonliness epidemic as much as you possibly can.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Command Me

Feyd Rautha X Plus Size! Y/N - drabble/series - 1.7K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: the Voice, mention of nudity, female reader, horny behaviors but no sex, voyerism, violence (nothing graphic), bad ass reader, enemies to lovers

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“Stay in there and keep quiet.” the guard said as he tossed you to the floor after locking a device around your head.

You instinctively tried to pry it away but it stayed put, you were unable to speak let alone scream to be let out. You looked around the room; it looked like everything else on Giedi Prime - dark and lonely. Not even the blinding light from their black sun could penetrate the room. You had been sent to Giedi Prime as an offering. A wife for the Na-Baron now that you had both reached maturity. You knew you were fated to him, you had known your whole life. Plans within plans. The Bene Gesserit had made you just as much as they made Paul Atreides. You were from Tleilaxu. Both the Bene Gesserit and the Bene Tleilax had engineered your creation over generations, you would be the one to bring about a challenger to Paul Atredies’ heirs. And as fate would have it, a Harkonnen was the strongest match you could have. A vile race that nobody in the universe had anything good to say about. You had always known your purpose but now that you were starting to live it, you wanted nothing more than to run away or disappear all together. You had met Feyd Rautha once when you were both 15. He was a strange boy who took pleasure in others' pain. He had shown you a beating heart from a maid he had killed before you ran back to your mother screaming. After that you hadn’t seen him or had any contact. 

Until today.

The door to the room opened, you lifted your head from your hands and quickly scooted away from the intruder until your back was against the wall. The door shut and the room was once again encased in darkness but you could see the man's striking white skin. His eyes were dark and you could feel them on you. He knelt in front of you, you raised your hand to strike him but he caught your wrist. All you could hear was your heavy breathing and your heartbeat in your ears. 

“You are just as simple as I remember, Tleilaxan.” he said, grabbing your chin and looking you over. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was one to talk. Tleilaxan were pale just like Harkonnen. Black eyes just like Harkonnen. The only physical difference between you two was that you had hair and your teeth weren’t black, they were slightly pointed. You grunted, trying to combat his insult but the gagging device on your head stopped you. He let go of your chin harshly, tossing your head to one side. 

“I remember you, ya know. How frightened of me you were when we were teenagers. Running away to your mother like a child. How pathetic.” he said as he stood up. 

The lights in the room finally illuminated. You blinked a few times adjusting to your surroundings, it was a bedroom chamber. It looked lived in but neat; you stood but kept a distance between you and the man who you could now fully see - Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. He was different from the last time you saw him. Not as scrawny. Still lean but he filled out his armor with plenty of muscle. His face was much sharper. His eyes were sullen and distant. He looked cold, dangerous. You pulled at your gag again, trying your hardest to get it off. You could feel some sort of mechanism in the back, you could tell it required a key. 

“This is our quarters. We will share it but I expect you to make yourself scarce.” Feyd said, walking towards you. “You will stay here until the wedding in a few days.” his eyes searched your face but you weren’t sure what he was looking for.

You kept your gaze stern. You weren't afraid of him; you weren't a scared child running back to your mother. You were Tleiaxu, a Face Dancer. If anyone should be afraid, it’s him. You shapeshifted into an exact copy of Feyd. His eyes widened, stepping back slightly. You walked closer to him, your gaze never leaving him. The Bene Gesserit had made you more than a capable fighter. To be the wife of Feyd Rautha they had not only trained you in their ways of battle and the voice but had you train with the especially brutal Sardaukar. You kicked at Feyds knee when you were close enough. He countered your strike, holding your ankle and twisting it. You dropped to the floor, using your other foot to kick Feyd over your head. He released your ankle due to the sheer force with which you kicked him. You rolled backwards, straddling Feyds chest where you locked his arms between your legs. He kicked and thrusted trying to move you but you remained solid. You glared down at him, pointing at your gag. He chuckled, moving his hand slightly towards his pocket. You clenched your thighs tighter, stopping him from moving completely. You reached inside his pocket, finding something akin to a key. Quickly you unlocked your gag, tossing it across the room. You rubbed your jaw finally letting the muscles loosen. In your distracted state Feyd thrusted his legs up, catching your shoulders so your roles were reversed. He straddled you with a smile taking a small knife out from his back blade holster. The shock rocked you back into your natural state, the shapeshift of him disappearing. He leaned forward bringing the knife to your neck.

“STOP” you said, using the Voice. 

He halted his motions and you could see the anger on his face, you could tell he felt like you were cheating.

“GET OFF ME, STAND STILL” you said, standing as soon as he was off you. “GIVE ME THE KNIFE” he did just as he was instructed. You could see him trying to fight your orders but he simply couldn’t. Very few had developed the skill to disobey the power of the Voice. You pointed the knife at his throat, the very tip of it pushing against him almost drawing blood. “You breathe because I allow it. Do not make an enemy of me, Feyd Rautha.” your tone was threatening and full of venom. “GET OUT” you said finally, keeping his blade. You watched him leave. You knew he would be back later, most likely set on revenge. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

You sighed as you explored your new home chambers. It was expansive, every room seemed to lead to another. A bedroom. A living room. A bathroom. A library. A viewing room overlooking all of Giedi Prime. A massive stairway that led to an upper floor which led out to the main halls of the palace. You weren’t used to the time difference yet, having only arrived a few hours ago but you could tell from the eerily empty, dark halls it was night time. You went back to your quarters, snooping through the closets and drawers. You found everything you could ever need; towels, blankets, bathroom supplies, dresses, armor, underwear, weapons, etc. The dresses were different from that on Tleilaxu. All black, all slightly resembling armor, yet soft and breathable. You shed your clothing, taking one of what you assumed was Feyd’s larger shirts and underwear to the bathroom. You filled the bathtub. You expected water but instead got some sort of strange, oily black substance. You dipped your hand in cautiously, rubbing it between your fingers. It had the feel of water. You shrugged, not really having a choice before you sank down into it. It felt strange, slightly thicker than water but it was making you feel clean. Just another adjustment you’ll have to make. 

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Feyd watched you from behind the two way mirror. He had grown up in this palace and knew it as well as his own body. He knew every secret it held. He watched you with confusion on his face. He felt embarrassed you bested him. You cheated, you used the Voice which he could not combat against. Yet he felt a strange sense of admiration. You exploited your opponents weakness. Clever. He could tell just from the reflexes you had during the fight that you were Sardaukar. What really amazed him was the shapeshifting. He had never seen a Face Dancer in person, only read of their histories. It was the greatest skill developed, rivaling the Voice of the Bene Gesserit. The fact that you had shapeshifting, the Voice, and advanced training - they may have picked him the perfect wife after all. You were far from the scared teenager he had met. When you rejected his demonstration of love, giving you a beating heart, a bitter seed towards you was planted. Yet your actions today made his insides stir with a wave of emotions he couldn’t quite place a description to. Admiration? That was the closest he could get. 

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state he was tempted to barge in and continue your fight, using the element of surprise against you. He almost made the move to, until he saw you start to wash over your curves. Sitting up on your knees in the bath to scrub over your body, he was hypnotized as the black water slipped down you. His throat tightened. You were a woman now, shapely and perfect compared to the twiggy women of Giedi Prime. His mind ran away with images of his hands gliding over you, everywhere. Your plush thighs, and soft tummy called out to him. He got closer to the mirror, you looked up for a moment meeting his gaze through the mirror, his breath hitched. You stood up, scrubbing the lower half of your body. His jaw dropped, you were the most beautiful creature he ever beheld. He begged for you to hold that knife to his neck again, just to have you close to him. He could feel the strain his cock made against his armor but tried his best to ignore it. As you rinsed the rest of the black from your skin he kept his eyes on your wandering hands, silently praying they would make their way between your legs. You stepped out of the bath, wrapping a towel around yourself before drying your hair with another. When he saw you slide one of his undershirts on he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning; his hips bucking forwards slightly out of pure want. 

He had to have you, he would do everything in his power to make you want him too.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello all! Haven't written for our favorite evil bald boy in a hot minute so I thought I'd deliver. I think I'm going to make this a mini series? I gotta come up with more of a plot because this was all just word vomit, gotta find a direction for it. I'm probably going to be writing more as the job search continues. I broke up with my boyfriend today so I will be distracting myself with the love of fictional men. I hope you are all doing well and thriving. Talk soon XOXOXOXOX!!!!!!

[clonehub]

Tell me what y'all think of this headcanon:

CCs get their own quarters, but sometimes they'll sleep in an empty bunk in the barracks.

It's an unspoken thing. CC will check the logs and see which squad might have a space open, which happens on occasion. Regs say that clones can't be swapping bunks and rooms all the time, but this is one of those things that a command clone is kind of above.

Getting your own quarters is a privilege. The privacy is novel. The silence can be unbearable.

The clones spend almost their whole lives falling asleep to the sound of their brothers breathing. So sometimes a commander will bunk with a squad. I headcanon that after Teth happened and the 501st went from a formidable foe to just six men, Rex and those six men all slept in the same barracks.

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Anyway I got notified that I'll be getting a nice $$ bonus from work today and I wish that I could celebrate with someone in a way that didn't just feel like obnoxious bragging. Like beyond the financial aspect, it's just nice to be recognized for good work and I actually feel... good?? about this job??

But it feels so silly to say I want to celebrate when I just got back from what felt like my first real vacation in a very long time and am doing cool comic con stuff this weekend and am scheduled for a new tattoo next weekend. I am already doing lots of things to try to make myself feel good! It feels selfish to want more!

But I guess even with all of that, there's just still a hunger for external validation from trusted sources. Will I ever grow out of wanting someone to be proud of me?

[aurorashard]

.

[kyofsonder]

Physically, I'm already lying down.

Emotionally, I feel like I need to find a soft spot and crumple dramatically to the ground and lay down for a few weeks.

[sealeneee]

siiiiiiigh

[mothbeasts]

happy fabricator friday. time for me to post fabbylaris content okay?? obligatory these are all my personal headcanons and some of it has little to no basis in actual canon, it's mostly just me expanding on things I think make sense. with that out of the way.

I think, in theory, that Solaris is one of the very few people who could convince the Fabricator to leave Zoraxis. If not the only one. I doubt the Fabricator has many outside support systems, and while she could turn to the Agency for help... I doubt it'd go well for her.

So that leaves Solaris. Someone she worked closely with for years. Half a decade, at the very least. It would be incredibly difficult for her to get away with the amount of loyalty to Zor she has, and the manipulation she has to have experienced, and the fear for her life... But Solaris leaving might have planted the seeds of doubt in her mind. There's nobody she trusts more, despite the rocky start their relationship had.

I like to think that Solaris was the first person in over a decade, besides Zor, to actually... Interact with the Fabricator in a generally positive way. Solaris never belittled her, or talked down at her, or made her feel like she wasn't worthy of her rank... Because despite her prominence in Zoraxis, I don't think the Fabricator truly has a seat at the table. And this isn't really new to her, she's far too accustomed to being looked down on, but... It stings. With Solaris, though, she's finally someone's equal. There's mutual respect. It's nice, being appreciated...

So of course if she wanted to leave she would seek out the one person who might not turn her away. What else would she have?

[sensitivegoblin]

I'd do anything to have a teasing voice in my ear

[vraska-theunseen]

im genuinely so frustrated right now the way i always am about this one thing but i can't even sustain the misery right now because i've never been able to come up with any kind of answer no matter how many miserable drafts i write and hours i stay up thinking so it's just making me laugh how the posts im writing to keep in my drafts keep turning into my fucking. autobiography. "...i remember a stage kiss with a tall girl in theater camp (her name was ashley or jennifer or something she could do the splits)" that's literally so funny. jennifer or ashley do you remember playing spin the bottle at the arden theater camp in 6th grade it's apparently pretty core for me

[letbuckfuck]

.

[turigirl]

ive decided i shall just Not sleep

[kavehater]

I wish I could inject pasilyo into my brain so I can have permanent happiness

[faradaykay]

yeah no yusuke and shiho are actually best friends. it just wasn't mentioned bc it wasn't relevant to the plot

[otsukare-katsukare]

about to say something very cringe but fortunately nobody will see it or care. it's kind of strange to be on a platform that's basically populated by the awkward weirdos who had no friends as children, the refuge of the outsiders, and still feel alone and alienated and like i need to perform well

[sayaratyriea]

i am craving Creative Activity so badly but law school sucked away my spoons to write by myself… so i’m reliant on friends and rp… and all my friends want to do is play overwatch (which i don’t play and don’t want to) or watch tv shows which is fundamentally less interesting and does not scratch the itch….. the adhd gremlins are shredding my skull from the inside out at this point :( send help