option 1: fetishizing the latinx character. they’ll sexualize everything this character does, make them overtly flirty or promiscuous even if they’re neither of those things, and if they are flirty? well, god help you because now they’re deemed as a slut. (i.e. poe dameron from star wars, cassian andor from rogue one, isabelle lightwood from shadowhunters, lance mcclain from voltron)
option 2: demonizing the latinx character. with this option, anything the latinx character does is criticized to hell and back, they’re held to a different and almost impossible to please standards that they’re white counterparts are not subjugated too. will often either be called annoying, their traits given to white characters, or will be villainized/dumbed down in fan works. (i.e. raven reyes from the 100, scott mccall from teen wolf, lance mcclain from voltron)
option 3: gratuitous torture porn/death fics. yup! this one is often paired with option 1 with fetishizing and torturing the latinx character because they’re the ‘favorite’. in fan works, these characters will be dumped with explicit torture, rape, and death fan works, often at the expense for other characters to cry over, and it’s only used for pain to just have pain. there’s no arc with it, or apart of an overall story, no mention of the characters feelings that explore it in a realistic and sensitive way. popular tags on ao3 would look something like this: poe dameron hurts so pretty, langst. (i.e. poe dameron from star wars, lance mcclain from voltron)
mix and match, and your fandom too will probably be subjugating your latinx characters in these ways!
That post about that porn gif of pins and needles being shoved into a woman’s vagina etc. and other torture in porn reminded me of my first encounter with porn on here.
A few years ago a woman I followed reblogged a porn gif of a woman tied up, and some man in all black with a ski mask on shoved his penis in her mouth and she was literally sobbing, and shaking. I called her out saying I don’t care if she watches porn (I was trying to not seem prudish or ‘shaming’ which is a red flag for how liberal feminism is trash btw) but that it looked like rape and it was disturbing. Of course she ignored me. This is back when I didn’t even know the facts about the horrors of the porn industry and sex trafficking. I just saw it and knew it was torture I didn’t mistake her reactions as anything but terror.
That shit is real, these women are really being tortured in so many atrocious ways for the sadistic fantasies of males, and women supporting this shit is so fucked up.
Liberal feminism has failed, women being raped and tortured on screen isn’t empowerment it isn’t edgy its torture. Stop defending and supporting that shit.
He held his handkerchief to his mouth, coughing like usual. It was just past 8 at night. At this time, James would get ready for bed, because his allergies and his body’s attraction to sickness got the best of him. This time, I was just the coughs.
“Ready for bed, love?” He asked you, wearing his pajamas. In all of your life, you’ve never seen a person actually wear matches clothes to bed. You glanced down at your sweats, and nodded.
“Yea,” You mumbled, and he began sliding his body into the bed, “Why did you marry me?” You whispered.
He stopped, looking back at you, “What are you talking about?” He raised an eyebrow. He let out a cough, and you sighed, pulling at the edge of your shirt.
“You’re put together, you know? You’re organized, you’re courteous, you’re put together. And, and I’m the complete opposite. So why did you marry me?”
You’ve always wanted to ask him. Even after all of these years, you felt like it needed to be asked. He was kind, he was lovely, he was smart, and you felt like he was too good for you.
James layed on his side, looking at you. “That’s why. You’re messy, you’re funny, you’re much smarter than me, you’re talented. To be honest, you’re the funniest person I know. And that’s why I love you. You are my other half, the other side of me that I need each and every day,” He glanced at your clothing, “And my favorite outfit on you is mismatched sweats and fuzzy socks. Messy hair, cheeky grin and all.”
You tilted your head to the side, smiling softly. What did you ever do to deserve him? You walked to your bed, your weight making it lower slightly.
Before you could throw the covers around you, he pulled you into his arms, kissing you all over your face. You squealed, laughing at his warmth.
“Jay, you’re sick!” You said through giggles. He shrugged, continuing to peck your face.