#'let people have sex with whoever' also applies when that 'who' is nobody

[ugly-anarchist]

If your argument is "I support x because x is better than y" then you actually don't support x and should maybe reconsider your stances and views

Yes, I'm still talking about sex negativity.

"Romantic sex is better than friends with benefits"

"Friends with benefits is better than one night stands with strangers"

"One night stands with strangers is better than-"

Shut up!

Literally shut up!

It's not a matter of finding something "worse" to scapegoat! You should just support people having safe, consensual, sex! No matter who they're doing it with or why!

Let people have sexual autonomy! It's not hard to mind your own fucking business!

[roykiller07]

i am always so scared and avoidant of explaining my identity to anybody (even, if not especially, myself) in any more words than the vaguest description possible ("im trans these r my pronouns and im a lesbian") because i cant telepathically transmit my gender into their brain so theyll never understand the complexity of it and will think something is wrong with it because im 100% nothing if not a lesbian but my nonbinaryness does not necessarily exclude manhood but it also does at the same time?? idk. wish ppl would stop trying to get me to explain my nonbinary identity in binary terms (im ppl nobody is asking me to say anything more than what i already do)

that comedian was so right i am a man in the way that kraft singles are cheese. it presents like it would be in the same category, it tastes like an offputting version of the real cheeses, a lot of people would call it cheese and it calls itself cheese too unless legally restricted but when you look at the actual content it is an entirely completely different substance. which doesnt make it any less a cheese persay but certainly also makes it definitely NOT a cheese at the same time. and its way better on grilled cheese than normal cheese is. not sure how that fits into the metaphor but its important to me

the same can be said for the way that im a woman and for both a large majority of the "ingredients" are completely internalizations of external inputs instead of any actual innate part of my being, like being a girl in the weird girl by mommy long legs way or in the impact of growing up a girl in a sexist society way or in the betty grof way or in the autistic female cartoon characters way or in the when choosing which character was OUR character growing up amidst my siblings in any game or show, often ending up w the only girl instead of just anyone that resonated with me way (was always mad at the games/shows for only having one girl, never upset about having to be her instead of someone else unless one of my siblings took the cool genderless-esque one) (maya and zero from borderlands...) or in the im my mother's daughter way or like being a guy in the random stray cat of indeterminate sex way or in the when every new person got confused about my gender as an androgynous kid, laughing super hard with my whole class/whoever was there about how dumb they were but always avoiding answering/correcting them clearly and getting upset if someone else told them i was a girl way or in the feeling very uncomfortable when anyone but my family specifically called out that i was a girl as a kid way (when alex tried to tell me i was the ruler QUEEN not the ruler KING for my collection of rulers..... die) or in the im my brothers brother way or in the drag king way or in the tboy swag of harold tdi way or you know i could go on for literal eons and still feel like i didn't list enough. plus a lot of the items on BOTH lists apply to BOTH options

and besides that im also like totally disconnected from gender?? i definitely still feel agender and genderfluid at the same time all the time not to mention the constant banging at the door in the back of my head for catgender begging to be let out. overall point blank period i know that the reason i feel this way about my gender is because im autistic and when social constructs don't come naturally to me that includes gender. but that's never like. a definitive enough answer for other people or for my own sanity and it makes me mad because NOBODY UNDERSTANDSSS MEEEEEEE [emo crying on knees]

whatever who actually cares (me)

i think the last time i felt properly fully self expressed was when i was 10 and had a scratch account named mr fox and used a persona called mr fox on it and part of what was special about me was that my name was mr fox but i was actually a girl even though i would throw up if someone called me a miss or mrs

[turnleftaticela]

While I’m at it I should do The Downward Spiral, since everyone always gets that wrong too

[Again, longpost beware and TW NIN stuff (including kind of detailed suicide discussion {not graphic just talking about the mindset})]

I gotta be honest: this album is about autism. Trent doesn’t know it, but it is. And I can’t explain it without explaining that aspect of it. If you disagree I guess that’s your prerogative or whatever but I’m telling you, this album could not be written by someone who’s not (undiagnosed) autistic. It just couldn’t

Mr. Self-Destruct - This one’s about that little voice in your head that accumulates over time as you grow up in this world undiagnosed autistic, the one that tells you what to do, what not to do, what you’re allowed to do, what you’re a terrible person for doing, what you deserve, what you don’t deserve, etc. If you’re autistic you’ll know what I’m talking about

Piggy - The deep, deep betrayal you feel when you really trusted someone to be there for you and help you through this confusing world, and it turns out they were just using you the whole time. Again, if you’re autistic you’ll know what I’m talking about

Heresy - I feel like almost every autistic has their “Hey, wait a second, religion doesn’t actually make any sense and yet somehow people are constantly using it to justify bad things” moment at some point in their life. This is Trent’s moment

March of the Pigs - The most autistic complaint ever - society is just stupid blind people doing whatever the system tells them to do. It’s some 1984 shit, some “Of Walking Abortion” shit. Basically it’s like “Why is everybody hiding behind these pleasantries and scripts and routines and facades that actually end up hurting more than they’re helping”

Closer - Ah, autistics and sex. We never can seem to have a normal relationship with it, can we? Trent is hypersexual and hates himself and is dealing with his problems that way.

Let me just take a moment here to explain what’s going on so far - essentially, it’s the process of disillusionment with the world. When you’re autistic, especially undiagnosed, nothing in the world makes sense. As you grow up, you learn more and more that this world is not built for you - but when you don’t know why, you think it’s your fault. You think that you’re the fucked up one, that you’re broken or a bad person, and the world around you just constantly reinforces it. It’s no surprise that autistic people are many times more likely than allistic people to develop severe depression, severe anxiety, self-harm habits, eating disorders, addictions, and suicidal ideation (and also to straight-up commit suicide). I mean, dissociation is literally part of the current autism diagnostic criteria. It’s that bad lol. So when you look at NIN’s music through this lens, things start to make a lot more sense.

Ruiner - I don’t know exactly what this one is about; it sounds simultaneously like some kind of person in power and someone Trent had a personal relationship with. Either way, it’s another song of trust and betrayal, and getting fucked up by it. Nobody has trust issues like an undiagnosed autistic, let me tell you. Also, “You know I can see what you really are” - autistics tend to get pretty darn good at sniffing out bullshit. It’s what happens once you get fucked over a few dozen/hundred times; you learn to see right through it.

I feel like autistic disillusionment doesn’t get talked about enough - it’s a really common experience. It goes deeper than just trust; it’s about what the world means to you as a whole, what your purpose on this planet is, why anything even matters. Connection and trust are our bread & butter, and it’s pretty much impossible to have enough to sustain us in this world the way it is right now. We feel abandoned equally by the personal and the powerful - there’s kind of no difference to us, since we don’t give a fuck about social status - so whoever this song is about, this shit applies.

The Becoming - Autism song to end all autism songs. You know all those autistic “traits,” the dissociation, the flat affect, the numbness, the lack of emotion or empathy, the shutdowns, the blank expression, the robotic “nature”? Yeah, that’s all trauma. All of it. All caused by the aforementioned bullshit we have to face on a constant daily basis. And this song describes the process perfectly. I’m so glad it exists, because it articulates an experience that far too many people aren’t aware of. We don’t actually want to be like this, but life leaves us no choice. We’re not born like this. It’s a process. A becoming.

I Do Not Want This - Ohhh my god I love this song. It’s exactly like I just said; we don’t want to be like this. We don’t want to cause problems. We don’t want to get in the way. We don’t want to shut down and melt down and get so tangled in our own issues that it tangles everybody else in, too. But we can’t help it. It’s what happens to an autistic brain when faced with the sort of thing the world thrusts upon us every day. It’s like sneaking up behind someone, shoving them as hard as you can, and then blaming them for falling over and getting in your way. We Do Not Want This. I promise.

This song is also a great example of the constant inner war we have when we don’t know what the fuck is wrong with us, because despite how much we don’t want “this,” there also doesn’t seem to be any explanation for it other than it’s our fault, we’re lazy, we’re stupid, we’re self-centered, we’re not trying hard enough, we don’t care about others, etc. And of course that’s not true at all, but god damn, it sure does feel like it when you don’t know the truth. This song illustrates that almost paradoxical state of mind better than anything else I’ve ever seen or heard.

Big Man With A Gun - Autistics are often left feeling incredibly helpless in this world, and like we have so much potential yet can never live up to it. It’s like Trent says in the last song: “I stay inside my bed; I have lived so many lives inside my head[…] I wanna do something that matters.” So this song is where he finally snaps. It’s a fantasy, a power fantasy, essentially “Aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you just want to go ape shit?”: the song. And at the same time, it’s a satire of toxic masculinity, because if there’s one thing autistics can’t stand, it’s nonsensical social norms such as that.

I think this song is sort of Trent saying, “Alright, fine! You want me to play the part I’ve been so callously assigned? You want me to be what a ‘man’ is supposed to be in this world?? Fine, I’ll show you a real man!!” He’s turning the norm on its head, embodying to the nth degree what he’s never wanted to be, as a last resort at his breaking point. Fine, he says, if this is really the only way to get anywhere in this world, then he’ll do it. He’ll fucking do it, alright. Just you watch.

A Warm Place - Of course, the power fantasy is just that - a fantasy. And it quickly collapses to reveal his true nature: something soft, gentle, sensitive, delicate, beautiful… fragile, one might even say. (Ajqgqfqgqvq.)

To me, this song is what love sounds like. Pure love, through the filter of two and a half decades of trauma and desperation. It sounds like childhood - like the distant memory of a mother’s love, back when that meant something real, something safe. If you don’t understand what’s soul-crushing about this song then idrk what to tell you

Eraser - He just wants to be gone, man. It seems that all he does is corrupt and contaminate and ruin. Everything always goes to shit and it’s always all his fault. He just wants to be gone. Or, ideally, to be erased from ever having existed. Been there.

Reptile - I feel this is kind of another Big Man, in the sense that he’s like, “Oh, you think I’m such a terrible person? Ha, fine, I’ll show you what a terrible person really is.” But this one is… scarier. More measured. I don’t know exactly what he does, but something tells me it’s (in the canon of the story) not actually a fantasy the way Big Man was. As Trent puts it, “I now know the depths I reach are limitless.”

I really would like to know what the hell happens in this song. Thematically it doesn’t seem all that different from Closer, so what makes this one so much more corrupt? It’s not like the girl is a virgin or anything, clearly. So what gives? Is she a sex worker? Is that the big no-no? I really don’t know. It would be kind of a letdown if that were the case. Whatever the answer is, I’m just gonna assume it’s better left unsaid and move on

The Downward Spiral - HE DOESN’T KILL HIMSELF IN THIS SONG. God. It’s a FANTASY. I could rant about this for hours. He’s saying to himself, “You are the problem, Trent. You can’t avoid it anymore. It’s you. Alllllll you. You have always been the problem. And problems do have solutions, y’know?”

It just really pisses me off when people say this is the suicide song because that takes away from the impact of both this song and Hurt. Another thing that doesn’t get talked about often with autistics is how suicidal ideation can often be comforting to us, because at least it’s a way out, even if we know we’d never actually do it. I don’t hear a lot of songs approach it this way, as Trent put it once, “talking about killing yourself and making it kind of sexy.” This isn’t suicide. It’s a fantasy. Do you know what kind of place you have to be in where suicide is an appealing fantasy? Where you want to live so badly but it’s so impossible that the only way you can amuse yourself is by thinking about killing yourself? This track is supposed to be pleasant. It’s supposed to be FUN. And he’s screaming bloody murder in the background all the while, but that’s because he’s suffering, not because he’s dying. The suicide fantasy is the escape from the suffering. THAT is the point of this song.

And like. It’s not just that. I think people fail to see the irony and self-deprecation this song is riddled with. Like, it’s the return of the main motif. The final reprise. This is the character’s crowning moment, and it’s him finally realizing that the solution is actually so simple, that he could’ve avoided all this fucking bullshit nonsense if he’d just offed himself before he ever started. Like, “Ha! Would you look at that! I was never actually going to make it out of this successfully! I could’ve just killed myself the whole time and spared everyone the trouble! Ha! Hahaha! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha !”

“Ha !”

Like, “Ohhhhhhhhhhh, I get it!!!!! All of this was for nothing and everything I’ve ever done was pointless! I literally should’ve just killed myself the day I was born!!! Isn’t that hilarious!!!!!!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!”

I think that’s what people miss about this song. It’s infinitely fucking bleaker than if it were just about him killing himself. And that’s so important to the record as a whole.

(I feel the need to add a disclaimer that the character is literally wrong about everything; he’s not better off dead, he’s just autistic and doesn’t know it so he thinks it’s all his fault. This record is an excellent example of what can happen to someone when they’re undiagnosed, but also this narrator is unreliable as HELL. Literally nothing is his fault. So like, please don’t put stock into any of these viewpoints I’m explaining here. Ajagqjqgqjqqhqbqjqhqhqgg qjqhqjqhh qhqhqhqhgqqjgqhqqgqhqgqhqgqhqhqhqggqgqqg)

Hurt - This is the back-to-reality song. He’s tried everything. Love. Trust. Religion. Society. Manhood. Sex. Roboticism. Masking. Drugs. Fantasy. He’s tried everything, and it’s all for naught. Nothing has been able to solve the problem that is himself.

He acknowledges how far he’s fallen from where he used to be, from who he used to be. He destroyed himself as a person in every sense to try and find a way to get by in this world, and it was all useless. He’ll never be able to find lasting connection or meaning, because people only like him when he masks, and he can’t keep that shit up. That’s why everyone he knows goes away in the end. They all get sick of the real him eventually, the him he tried so hard to hide and suppress and destroy.

In a sense, this album is flawed from the get-go: Mr. “Self”-Destruct is not his self at all, but rather society’s voice, which he took on in his head, amplified by those closest to him who hurt or betrayed him. That’s the true tragedy of this album: the moral of the story is “At the end of the day, I’m responsible for all this, and only I can fix it,” when that’s actually the precise opposite of true.

But alas, without the knowledge he needs to believe otherwise, that’s the belief he operates on. And so, he decides he’s got to take matters into his own hands and do the “right” thing.

And do you know what he says? Do you know what his last words are, right before he does the deed?

“If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way.”

And if you don’t think those last three stings on that last line there are the final fatal blows, I don’t have any interest in speaking to you further.

But seriously. The ending is so fucking poignant, and it actually is kind of hopeful, in a way. He can’t do this all again, because he’s destroyed himself - but if he could, he wouldn’t go to the trouble of destroying himself. He would stay true to himself. He wouldn’t try to fit in with the world, because he knows how futile that is now. He would embrace what makes him the fucked-up failure weirdo everyone seems to think he is, and if they don’t get it, fuck them. It would serve everybody better if he could keep himself. And he would do it. He would find a way.

So that part is a good message to autistics. Don’t destroy yourself; you end up destroying everything around you. You end up wearing a crown of shit upon a liar’s chair. Just be yourself. People will hate you and ostracize you but that’s literally their problem and theirs alone. And yes, it will be hard. It will be lonely. It will be tiresome. But it’s better than this. It’s better than what he became, in the end. No matter how much you lose, no matter how much it hurts, you have to keep yourself. You have to find a way.

-

So that’s that. I genuinely don’t know how else to explain this album besides the autism interpretation. Every single song Trent’s ever written screams autism (don’t even get me started on Broken) and it just makes his entire life make perfect sense. I’m sure you can read other interpretations into this album and get away with it but I feel it would miss some of the nuances, like the inner-outer war in “I Do Not Want This” or the “Hahahahahahaha ha ha ha ha ha !” tone in “The Downward Spiral,” those details that really round out the picture. Or like, the whole reason any of this shit is happening to Trent in the first place, and the genuinely inspiring message the album leaves you with despite it genuinely ending with him killing himself. Ajagqjqqhqhqhjqqjqhqjqhqbqhqhqbqbqbqhqbqhqbqgqhqvvqqvqvqcqcqcqcqccqcqdqdqdqdqdqdqdqqxdqdqdqqddqqdqddqdqsqddqdqsqdqqqdqqdqssqssqssssddqdqdqeqsqdqdddqqrrqqq

Tbh there’s still so much I could say about this album but that’s enough for now. TL;DR the world repeatedly fucks over an undiagnosed autistic kid, he grows up confused and becomes increasingly disillusioned and learns to hate himself and develops drug habits and sex problems to cope with the pressures of trying to fit into society, it doesn’t work, he loses it, he ends up destroying himself, he runs out of options, he kills himself but recognizes that despite it all he should’ve stayed true to himself instead of trying to make himself fit into a world that never wanted him anyway. The end

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 12k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: good god where to begin, loss of virginity : ) for real, big dick joon, cowgirl, unprotected sex, special appearance from namjoon’s sensitive neck o.o, premature ejaculation sorry bud, creampie, dom!joon still tho, sub!reader, sexting, dom!hoseok/master!hoseok, sub!jungkook, sub!reader agAIN, bondage and shibari, master/slave dynamics (sorry i have to spoil the prompt but want to properly TW this stuff, but the word slave is only used once out-of-scene), filmed sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, hoseok wearing the tear dior fit you are WELCOME, fingering, orgasm control/denial, oral (m receiving), anal (m receiving), a position i am told is called a lucky pierre/french sandwich, threesome in case you couldn’t guess, aftercare, guided masturbation, phone sex, pet-names, discipline/punishment

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you my darling SFHS babies ! i love you

DAY EIGHT

“Are you ready to make your decision?”

No. Of course the answer is no, but there’s no delaying it anymore. “Is it nine already?”

Sejin sighs, shuffling to the side of the table to indicate you’re to sit beside him. When you do, facing the boys on the couch, your heart gives another sickening lurch. Sejin squeezes your shoulder kindly. “Just a game, sweetheart,” he assures quietly, before raising his voice into the authorial tone he used for announcements. “Thank you for all being here on time, any on topic questions before we begin?”

Nobody answers, not even Jin. There’s a tense atmosphere, and you feel caught right in the centre of it.

“Okay, then,” he says softly, sensing the sullen atmosphere. “I’d like to give each of the Gentlemen a chance to explain why Y/n should keep them in the show. Let’s go around the room. Yoongi?”

To Sejin’s left, perched on the end of the three-person couch, is the doctor himself, legs crossed and face relaxed. “Um, Y/n should keep me in becau-”

“Say it to her,” Sejin guides, shuffling back to move out of the way.

Reflexively, Yoongi glances up at you, and the calm warmth of his eyes reassures you. “Y/n, I’d ask you to keep me in because we’ve had a good time together so far, but there’s so much that we have yet to explore. Beyond that, I’d like to think I’m a good fit for the house, and I’ll continue to assist Jin-hyung in cooking many meals.” Once he’s done, he sends you a small smile, eyes glinting playfully.

The younger boy sitting next to him is not as cheerful. Bottom lip red from gnawing, Jungkook tucks his feet up on the couch, resting his chin on his knees. His eyes meet yours after Sejin signals for him to begin. “I really hope you don’t vote me out because I like it here a lot. You’re so cool, and the hyungs are so cool, and I feel really happy here. I know we haven’t spent a whole lot of quality time yet, but I want to, if I stick around long enough.”

You bite down harshly on your tongue, sending him a strained smile. Fuck, this sucks. Beside Jungkook is Hoseok, who props his elbow on the arm of the couch, posture casual but face stricken.

“Y/n,” Hoseok begins, voice tentative and uncharacteristically subdued, “you’re a very intelligent girl and you have a lot of potential in being a sub. I’d appreciate the opportunity to stay in and show you and the audience how enjoyable BDSM can be. We’re all very lucky men to be on the show with you.”

On the couch beside, Namjoon is the next one around. He pauses, eyes dancing about the room as he thinks. “I think it probably doesn’t make much sense to keep me in the game,” he allows. “I’m not experienced like the others and so it’s a little hard to defend on that front, but I think me staying allows you the advantage of being my first and best experience. I feel like with just a bit more time, I’ll really grow into my element, and I feel safe doing it with you. So I really hope I stay.”

Squished beside him is Jin, who sends you a big grin, even if it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “This is so shitty,” he says with a laugh, “it’s harder than I was prepared for before I came, and I think that’s due partly to the warm environment that we’re developing with each other, but also because you, Y/n, are a very genuine and lively person. Of course this is a game about sex, but I don’t think any one of us could say that’s the only factor here. As for me, I ask that you keep me in at least a week more because I can promise not only a good time, but also an ear if you need one, and advice should you ever want it.” He pauses to glance around the room. “That goes for all of you,” Jin adds, “I cannot believe that I don’t hate any of you, I don’t know how the producers found such great people.”

His words ease a bit of the tension, and the rest of you let out laughs of relief, your heart easing slightly.

Next, it’s down on the floor for Taehyung, who seems to prefer sitting cross-legged on the carpet to any other spot in the room. “I really wanna stay here,” he pleads with his eyes locked on yours, so earnest, “you’re so fantastic, and Jungkookie and the hyungs are all so fantastic, and I don’t wanna go home so soon. And also I think in terms of sex and stuff, I bring a lot to the table.” Taehyung avoids Sejin’s gaze, fiddling with the hem of his shirt innocently even as he stares up through his eyelashes at the rest of you cheekily. “I think we saw that yesterday. Though in the future, hopefully it’ll cost me less.” He sends a withering glare at Yoongi and Jin. “You assholes.”

You let out a chuckle, Jin huffing in response and Yoongi just shrugging with a shameless grin. Finally, it’s Jimin’s turn, and your chest pangs as you remember the last time you were together. The way he squeezed your hand gently before getting out of the car last night, the way he walked you to your bedroom door, wishing you sweet dreams. The way you saw an entirely different man to the one he’s been advertising.

His eyes on you are imploring even as his back is straight and legs crossed. “I value the time I spend with you. This is, after all, a game about sex so I’ll defend myself by saying you can rest assured I’m skilled enough to please you well, but if you allow me to stay,” he drops eye contact, fiddling with his rings even as he fights to remain poised, “I do hope it’s not the sex alone that keeps me here.” Like a switch is flicked, his momentary vulnerability vanishes, and he glances up and sends you a smile, warm and at-ease, having said his piece.

“And Y/n,” Sejin guides from beside you, his kind eyes on you, “anything to say to the guys?”

Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s been a week? Why is this so hard? “I- First of all, this decision has been insanely hard. You’re all amazing, not just in bed but as people, and I hope that whoever has to leave will still stay in touch. It feels really cruel that I have to say goodbye to someone so soon. The reality is, none of you did bad, and there’s nobody I don’t like; nobody that doesn’t belong here. I’ve made my decision, but- I don’t know. I’m not happy with it, but I don’t think I’d be happy with any decision. In the end, I guess I just went for the least painful option.” You take a deep breath, eyes lifting to look at Hoseok, who sends you a sad smile. You open your mouth-

“Wait!” Sejin interrupts loudly. Everyone turns to look at him in unison, eyes wide. “There-” He breaks off with a sigh, glancing at the camera closest to him before looking back down at the group. “Listen; this will be edited out, but ratings have been doing far better than we’d ever anticipated. We already hired a third editor to keep up with demand and get more episodes out than was on the schedule, and there’s talk we may even start getting sponsorships because the support has been creating headlines, at least on Twitter. The higher-ups at Bangasm, well… they want to make an exception.”

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” Sejin answers. “Act surprised.” The eight of you stare at him with varying degrees of bewilderment as he puffs his chest and carries his voice louder, switching back into producer mode. “Wait!” he repeats in the same tone as earlier. “The production team hasn’t been completely honest with you. This isn’t just a basic game with prompts each week like we told you. There will be a special advantage, a wildcard if you wish, that changes things up. They could affect the prompts, or how the game proceeds for that week. We call them Bangasm Bombs. And while we didn’t tell you, our production team has drawn the Bangasm Bomb for Week One.”

Sejin pauses to look at you all meaningfully. Jimin picks up the hint. “So; what’s the ‘Bangasm Bomb’ for this week?” he asks for you, gesturing quote marks with his fingers. 

Your mind is starting to whir, possibilities beginning to percolate in your mind, but you aren’t prepared for what Sejin says next.

“Nobody goes home this week.” 

Your mouth drops open, eyes darting around the room to see the open disbelief on the guys’ faces. “So I- I don’t have to send anyone home today?”

“No,” Sejin answers warmly, and you feel your shoulders sag in relief, a breath rushing out you didn’t know you were holding. Sejin winces, clearing his throat lightly. “That’s… the other thing.”

“Other thing?” Yoongi asks incredulously. “There’s more?”

“With the success of the show comes other benefits. For example; the CEO and treasurer of Bangasm have agreed to double our funding if we can keep the views up. No, Seokjin,” Sejin quips the second the eldest contestant raises his hand. Jin puts his hand down, lips pursed in a pout. “We’re changing the rules a bit. Before, we said if Y/n eliminated you, you’d pack your bags and leave. Now; you stay.”

Sejin can’t get another word out over the clamour that arises, everyone shocked and excited and confused all at once. He waves his hand for silence, and only after a minute or so everyone calms down. 

“So, there’s just no eliminating?” Jungkook asks with a comically quizzical look on his face.

“Please just let me explain,” Sejin requests, sighing. “Yes, there will still be eliminations. But if you get eliminated, you stay in the house.”

“So it’s a free pass,” Jungkook surmises.

“Not quite. No longer will you not be competing in the game, but you won’t be able to have sex with or sexually touch Y/n in any way. If you do, then you’ll be sent out of the house for good.”

“No sex with Y/n?” Taehyung asks meaningfully. “So… otherwise…?”

Sejin sighs, a tired laugh falling from his lips. “Just no sex with Y/n,” he confirms. “If you touch Y/n sexually, you go home. If Y/n touches you, of course we can’t send her home, so we’ve devised a punishment.” 

At the word punishment your head darts up to stare at the producer, but Hoseok beats you to the punch. “She’s gonna come join us in the bunkroom?”

“That’s for failing prompts, Hobi-hyung,” Namjoon points out, “Y/n doesn’t have any prompts.”

“Correct,” Sejin confirms. “If Y/n touches an eliminated member in a sexual manner, then that member gets to choose what she wears for the next 24 hours.”

You frown. “That doesn’t sound so…” you trail off when you glance up, only to be met with seven hungry sets of eyes. You can just about see the cogs turning in their brains as they stare at your body. “Ah.”

“Yes. So stick to the rules, and you get, as Jungkook so elegantly put, a free pass minus Y/n. Got it?”

The eight of you stay silent, still shell-shocked from the two revelations. This changed things. Now, when you voted someone off, they would get to stay, but they would get to stay. You can see both the positive and negative possibilities there, and it’s no surprise that a reality show would have such a sneaky plot twist.

So you’d have all seven fucking you for one more week, and then all seven every week in the future, only with your sexual prospects dropping as you went. It does ensure that you’ll begin voting for them purely based on sexual performance; considering their personalities in the house wasn’t an issue if you’d have those anyway. 

As you glance around the room, you can’t help but wonder if your vote would’ve been different had you known that he’d get to stay. And you wonder if you’ll end up picking the same person in a week’s time, after a new set of prompts. The thought makes you sit up, turning to Sejin again.

“Will the boys draw their new prompts, then?” you ask. “Do I get to know the theme again?”

“Ah, of course-” Sejin breaks off to sit up, retrieving a stack of slightly crumpled papers from his back pocket. “This week’s theme is dynamics and roleplay. Come pick a card.”

Like last week, you pay close attention to the reactions of each of the seven. Namjoon blinks wide at his, but doesn’t seem as put off as last week, and his eyes go distant when he sits back down, like he’s already picturing it. Jimin takes two, one for him at one for Taehyung, and the two compare, Taehyung laughing at Jimin’s and Jimin smirking at Taehyung’s, brushing his clean-shaven cheek with the back of his knuckles and murmuring something in his ear. 

When Jin gets his, he bites his tongue and shakes his head with a light laugh, and Yoongi’s mouth drops open upon reading his card, eyes darkening with lust. Jungkook winces at first, but thinks on it a moment longer and grins eagerly, taking a second glance and scrunching his nose cutely at it. Hoseok takes his last, calmly reading it with a pleased smirk, sliding it into his front pocket and taking a seat.

Your breath leaves you in a slow stream. You’re back to the not-knowing. Dynamics and roleplay. It could really be anything, you supposed. Naughty schoolgirl, pizza delivery guy. You didn’t watch a lot of porn but you vaguely knew some of the tropes, and it’ll be a rather interesting week indeed.

“That’s not all, of course,” Sejin adds, and you feel like your brain could implode with the information dump that this morning has been. “Would you like to hear the Bangasm Bomb for Week 2?”

“We find out now?” Hoseok questions. “Not at the end?”

“Well, in order to fulfil it you need to know now,” the producer explains. “This week, Y/n may not sleep in her own bed, and she may not sleep in the same bed twice.”

You blink, not expecting it to be directed at you. “I what?” Your mind catches up with the rule, and you let out a light laugh. “So, I’ll have to share with the other guys?”

"Let's not forget the type of show we're on," Yoongi points out, leveling an impressed stare at the producer. "Well-played."

"Thank you," Sejin replies shortly. "Now, that'll be all. Just a reminder, if your scene isn't filmed, it doesn't count, and it's okay if Y/n guesses the prompt, but if you tell her directly then your prompt is void. Seokjin; we ordered you a set of chef's knives that should be here later today. Please stop spamming the company's inquiries email."

He's out of the room before Jin can even react, open-mouthed but smug like the cat that got the cream.

The eight of you sit in silence for a moment or two, still reeling. It's Hoseok in the end that recovers first.

"So we all stay," he muses. "Even if we get voted off, we stay. Why is that both a blessing and a curse?"

"This is reality TV," Jimin points out calmly, "and it's porn on top of it. Tension and drama skyrockets ratings. Well; I'm going to make some coffees if anyone wants one."

Most of the group move back into the kitchen, rifling through cabinets like zombies to make their breakfasts, but Namjoon approaches you hesitantly, biting on his lip.

"Y/n, can I talk to you? Privately?"

You stand up off the coffee table, though still you're lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "Sure," you reply easily, "privately or privately privately?"

"Um," he hesitates, glancing towards the entrance foyer, where across the hall lies the unfilmed rec room. "Just privately is fine for now."

Everyone else distracted with the prospect of food and hot coffee, it's easy enough to just sit on the stairs, side-by-side and thighs touching. Like this, you become aware of how much bigger he is than you. Namjoon's legs sprawl out down to the bottom of the stairs, socked feet slipping slightly on the glossy stone floor, whereas yours are tucked on the step below you. He glances down at you with a nervous disposition, but his eyes are surprisingly steady.

"Hoseok-hyung and I slept in the bunk bed room last night, as you probably know," he explains. "Him and I talked a lot. About a bunch of things, but he helped me realise something. And after I got the prompt today, I was sure."

Your eyes widen as they watch him carefully. The roots of his purple are starting to grow out in a soft brunette that makes him look even younger, his face round yet gently sculpted, chin pressed out in solemnity. "Sure of what?" you question quietly.

Namjoon takes a slow breath, rubbing his palms over his knees. "I think it's better if I don't lose my virginity while doing some cheesy role-play for a porn show, you know? I know I chose to come here knowing what I was walking into, but... Hoseok suggested maybe we could use the rec room for some privacy and then I could just fill my prompt later in the week. Of course, the producers will probably get annoyed at me not losing my virginity on camera, but they never said I had to, and I think I want it to be something just for me, you know? Something that's just you and me, outside of the show. I understand if you don't want to do that, but if you're happy to, I think I'm ready now."

You take a few moments to fully process his words, the gravity of them. "You sure you're ready? If you are, I'm happy to do that, Joonie. I want it to be good for you. You deserve that."

He smiles at that, broadly, but with his head ducked down. "That means a lot," he admits, "but yeah. I'm ready. If you want to...?" He trails off, tipping his head in the direction of the private rec room.

You sit up straight. "Oh! You mean- now now? Yes, I can do that, wow, okay-"

"If that's alright?" he asks hastily, face pinched with worry, but you just stand up, holding out a hand to him. He takes it, letting you lead him to the door.

From the few times you've needed to use this room, it's been pretty empty. It's small; most likely originally intended as extra storage or a home office, and the producers had put a visibly second-hand couch on one wall, a skinny coffee table and a lamp in there.

Generally, it's a glorified staffroom of sorts, a time-out that's more valuable for its lack of cameras than anything actually inside. Today, though, you freeze in the hallway at the sight that greets you.

With the table pushed to one side, boasting two bottles of water, a box of tissues, a bottle of self-heating lube and a small bluetooth speaker, the rest of the room has been converted into a massive bed.

The floor is covered with blankets, sheets and duvets, thick enough to be like a bedroll, with pillows stacked on the edges. They cover most of the floor, roughly the size of a queen size bed. On top of the impressive set-up are a colourful variety of packaged condoms, arranged in a tasteful love-heart.

Namjoon groans at the display, pinching his brow. "Hoseok said he'd set up for me and make it a little more comfortable, I'm sorry."

"It's cute," you say with a laugh, "are you wanting to use condoms?"

Namjoon swallows. "Uh, you- what would you prefer?"

You shrug, collecting them up and flicking through the buffet of options. You chuckle as the majority are L and XL. Unsurprising. "I mean, we don't need one. So if you want to feel everything fully, I say go bare."

"G-go bare, please," he coughs out awkwardly, shutting and locking the door behind him, double-checking the handle. "Can we put some music on? It's really quiet in here."

"Of course." You busy yourself with the music, smiling at the fact that he must have appreciated it last time. By the time you select a nice playlist on your phone and pick a decent volume, Namjoon's surprised you by hastily stripping down to his underwear, shyly rubbing at his knees.

You stand stock-still for a moment, just taking in the gorgeous sight of his body, all understated muscle and bold lines and planes. He must do some form of exercise, because his chest is thick, as are his thighs, and his lower stomach is soft but lean. He's gorgeous, and between your legs you feel your excitement grow.

Hustling to strip your clothes off as a gentle guitar strumming fills the air, you feel the cool cotton of the duvet under your knees as you straddle Namjoon, the man sucking in a breath as your clothed pussy presses flush against his hardness.

"Give me a kiss," you ask softly, a suggestion to let him take control, and a sigh of relief leaves his lungs as he cups your face in his hands, tugging your lips onto his greedily.

The ferocity with which he kisses you takes your breath away. It's powerful, greedy and demanding like he's waited an eon to kiss you again. While he was surprisingly skilful the first time, now it feels like he's come into his own.

You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat as you feel his tongue slipping between your lips, licking up into your mouth like he's trying to devour you. You're drunk on it, mind feeling hazy, but you manage to pull away for a moment, gasping out a, "how the hell did you get this good?"

Grunting, Namjoon's eyes flutter open and one of his hands slips back to cup the nape of your neck securely, preventing you from backing up further. "Hoseok gave me some tips," he admits. "Now get back here."

You let yourself be pulled in again and eaten alive, muffled groans and sighs of bliss slipping out between swipes of tongue and flashes of teeth, nipping at your bottom lip until it's swollen and aching in the best way.

Without realising, you've begin to grind your hips against him, needing friction, and he pants into your mouth at the feeling. The pleasure makes him sloppy, and you groan as his lips leave yours, veering down to kiss along your jawline, tugging on your earlobe before sucking blossoms of colour down your throat. You tip your head back, arching into his mouth and rocking your hips against him, the friction addictive.

"Gonna fuck you now," you hear him groan against your collarbone, lips on your skin that's slick from his spit. Even in your heightened state of arousal you can sense the slight question in his voice, like he's checking you're still okay with it.

More than okay, you glance down to see the point that joins you, your panties so wet that the grey of his boxers is marred by a dark spot, wet and clinging to the stiff outline of his cock. You curse lowly at the sight of it. "Fuck, please, I need you, Joonie."

He lets out a strangled sigh, hands trembling slightly as he pushes down the waistband of his boxers so that it rests below his balls, cock bobbing up to rest at his stomach. He swallows hard, eyes closed and back resting against the base of the couch. The sheets beneath you have heated up with your body temperature, arousal radiating off the two of you in waves. 

When you first reach out to touch him, you keep your eyes on his face, on his reaction. The initial contact makes his brow twitch, eyes clenching shut. So thick your fingers don’t touch around him when you grasp his base, he’s definitely the biggest you’ve seen in the house; a touch of irony that the least experienced member had the biggest genetic advantage. His bottom lip finds his way tucked between his teeth, thighs tensing beneath you. 

“Joonie,” you mumble in a mock pout, “are you gonna fuck me now or so I have to do all the work myself?”

His eyes fly open, gaze landing on your widened eyes of innocence, before darting down to where you’re gently stroking him, fingertips catching on the sensitive ridge beneath his head. “Hobi-hyung said you should ride me so you can get used to it.”

You chuckle, tapping your thumb over his weeping slit, making him hiss. “Let’s stop thinking about what Hobi said and start worrying about what you want. Do you want me to ride you? Feel how tight I am for you?”

He curses, brows knitting as he nods shakily, and you can’t hold yourself back any longer. With a low curl of thrill in your stomach, you sit up so you can quickly slip off your panties, before straddling him again. He feels heavy when you brush his length through your sodden folds, readying him for you, and the thought makes you groan lowly. 

“Wanted you so bad,” you confess over the music in the background, now a simple drum beat that gives you rhythm as you grind your hips over him, letting his blunt head catch at your entrance. “Fuck.” His fingers are digging into your hips just with the feeling of your pussy clenching over his tip, and you lower yourself painfully slowly, adjusting to the way he stretches you to your limit, dragging inch by inch against your walls. 

“H-oh god, it is, it’s so tight,” he comments with a hitch in his voice, and again you feel the muscles of his thighs twitch, like he’s fighting the urge to bury himself in you. Though the thought of it is hot, you’re merciful that he’s giving you time to grow accustomed to the sheer girth of his dick inside you. 

“Does it feel good, Joonie?” you ask, the question panted as he takes your breath away, grinning at the quick stuttered nods he gives in reply, fingers flexing on the flesh of your hips and ass. By the time you’re sitting flush against his lap, you can barely breathe, a shaky hand pressing onto your stomach almost expecting to feel him bulging out of you from the inside. He’s not just the biggest on the show, but the biggest you’ve ever had, and you feel like you could cum just from rolling your hips against him. 

“You feel so amazing, Y/n,” he praises, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you in close so that he can press his lips to yours. You whine as he shifts in you, feeling shakier than ever, but appreciate the chance to adjust to him, tongue chasing his and fingers slipping into his hair as you kiss. 

You’re content to stay like that for as long as he continues to move his mouth against you, mouth watering at the feeling of cockwarming him and joining your bodies so intimately, but the excitement of new sensation gets to him, and after a while he begins to shift, holding your hips down and grinding his hips.

Your jaw drops open, hands flying out to grip at his shoulders at the feeling. He’s so deep you can barely comprehend it, can barely think with his cock filling you so completely, and find yourself pleading quietly, an unintelligible babble of more, please more, need more. He shifts his posture as you sit on his length, uncrossing his legs and instead bracing them in front of him. 

“Want me to fuck you like this?” he asks, nipping at your throat, and you shiver at the husky gravel of his tone. What happened to the shy virgin? 

“Please, Joonie,” you gasp, clenching around him, “need you to move.”

His first thrust takes your breath away, punching the air out of your lungs. When he moves inside you it feels monumental, like a core piece of you shifting, and your eyes water with the delicious burn. You whine when he pauses for a moment, hands slipping down to knead at your ass. Namjoon’s eyes are like molten dark chocolate as they focus on you, rich and intense, and when your head tips down to kiss him again it’s so needy your teeth clash, the keening whimper in your throat sign enough that you want more. 

It’s only once he begins to fuck you in earnest, bouncing you on his cock, that you see how truly affected he is. Strands of lilac cling to his temples as he sweats, chest heaving and hands trembling even as his fingers dig in hungrily. His lips are slick with spit, but he makes no move to wipe them clean, just biting onto his bottom lip and sucking, hips snapping up with bruising momentum. 

You can’t catch your breath, but still you chase his lips like oxygen, needing to be as close as possible. His panting keeps you anchored as you moan shamelessly, toes curling and back arching. Your high approaches quickly enough that it shocks you, but there’s no escaping the pleasure that rushes through you with every snap of his hips. 

You lose contact with his mouth, cheek resting limply on his shoulder as he speeds up his pace, the muscles in your legs failing you, twitching uncontrollably. 

“No, no, no, fuck,” Namjoon chants lowly, and you feel a hand bury in your hair, holding you to the crook of his neck, “I’m sorry, I’m not gonna last.”

You moan at that, feeling him stiffen impossibly more inside you with every thrust. “Wan’ you to cum,” you promise in his ear, barely more than a gasped breath, “wanna cum with you.” To end the statement, you nuzzle your nose against his throat and nip at his pulse point. To your surprise, he shudders violently, suddenly going stock still.

Your eyes widen as hot ropes of cum fill you, Namjoon clutching you to him helplessly, groaning nonsense as his orgasm hits him out of nowhere. Your own high recedes, but you barely notice it as you sit up tiredly and clench around him, watching the pleasure flicker across his face as he rides the high. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes cast towards the ceiling and chest still heaving, “I’m so sorry, I… sensitive neck.”

You grin, running your hands up to gently brush over it, feeling him pulse inside you, spurting the final drops of cum from his spent cock. “Don’t apologise,” you assure, leaning in quickly to nibble at his lips and give him a lazy, indulgent kiss. “That was really fucking hot.”

He laughs, cheeks pinkening slightly, and you feel your heart warm at the return of the shy Namjoon you’d gotten used to. So he’s a lot more dominant and confident in the heat of the moment, you muse as he catches his breath, good to know.

When you find your strength again, slowly sitting up off him, you wince at the rush of cum leaving you, and the uncomfortable feeling of emptiness. That’s only exacerbated by the fact that you haven’t cum yet, but it’s his first time and you don’t want him to feel bad. Collapsing on the sheets beside him, you rest your head on his shoulder, breath still coming in shallow pants. “Good?”

“Good god, Y/n,” he exclaims earnestly, “I think I might be a sex addict now.” 

A surprised peal of laughter leaves your lungs, and you shove him playfully before crawling over to the coffee table, cracking open a bottle of water and cleaning yourself up with the available tissues. “Hoseok really did think this through, huh?” you muse, chucking him the box once you’re done.

Namjoon clears up the cum on his cock and thighs, grimacing at the way some of it has stained his boxers, but he sends you a guilty look. “I’m sorry.”

You frown, reaching for your clothes. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t-”

Whatever Namjoon is about to say is cut off by a sudden thud that gives you both a fright, followed by three polite albeit enthusiastic knocks. You stare in bewilderment at the door, before hastily dressing yourself.

“Is everything alright?” Namjoon calls out, putting his underwear back on properly and hopping into his pants. “Has something happened?”

“I should hope so, young grasshopper!” an enthusiastic voice chirps from the other side of the door, muffled but unmistakably Hoseok. “You’ve popped your cherry, Kim Namjoon!”

The academic winces, reaching out to unlock the door once he’s made sure the two of you are dressed. “Hoseok, what are you doing? Wha-?” He breaks off once he opens the door, and you rush around behind him to see what gave him pause. 

In the foyer are Hoseok, Taehyung and Jin, all in matching paper birthday hats, the strings of thin elastic digging into their chins. Hoseok’s holding two more in his hands, and he thrusts them towards you as Taehyung wiggles the weighty bottle of champagne in his grasp. Behind them, Jin calmly holds a kitchen knife.

“What’s going on?” you ask in bewilderment, stepping out into the foyer and wincing at the ache between your legs with each step. “Why the fuck are you holding a knife?”

Jin, his bright blue party hat on at a jaunty angle, stares down at his hands blankly before gasping, tucking it behind his back. “Sometimes I forget I’m still holding it.”

“That’s extremely alarming,” Namjoon says with a frown. “I still don’t understand why you’re all gathered outside the door.”

“It’s time for the party, hyung,” Taehyung explains, “to celebrate you finally getting your dick wet.”

Your cheeks go flaming red as you glance at Namjoon, the poor man spluttering and eyes wide like he didn’t know what to do. “If there’s champagne, I’m there,” you announce calmly. “Come on, Joonie, let’s go celebrate.”

Namjoon visibly relaxes when you aren’t offended, flicking you a warm smile. “Is everyone wearing a hat?” he questions incredulously, taking the thin cone card. 

“Mo-mostly everyone,” Hoseok answers suspiciously. 

“It’s just you guys, isn’t it?”

“Well, if you both wore one, we’d have the majority.”

You grin, patting Hoseok on the shoulder as you walk past him into the foyer. “Let’s just go,” you call out to the guys behind you, “there better be food.”

As expected, the three that greeted you were the only ones wearing party hats. At the dining table, which has been laden with aromatic dishes, steaming rice and empty champagne flutes, the other three await. Jimin’s is resting beside his plate and chopsticks, untouched. Beside him, Yoongi has his upside down, using it as a bowl for the rice snacks he’s munching happily on. The youngest man in the house hasn’t even noticed you’ve arrived, using it like a very inefficient telescope, one eye scrunched shut and the other focused on the pinhole at the top of the cone. Sitting at the head of the table, he aims it at Jimin, mouth hanging open as he tries to see through the tiny gap.

Giving up, he waves the wide end around the room, desperate to catch a glimpse of something. Once the cone lands on the five of you, he gasps, chucking down the party hat. “You’re back! I didn’t start eating the cake, like you said!” 

Jin frowns. “That sounds awfully suspicious.” Knife still in hand, he makes his way to the kitchen island, where you catch a glimpse of a beautifully iced cake with writing on the top that you’re too far away to read. 

Jungkook shifts restlessly in his seat, staring worriedly at Jin. “The- um, the birds attacked it.” If you look closely, you think you can see the slightest hint of vanilla icing in the crook of his mouth. 

Jin stares at the cake desolately. “The birds?” he deadpans.

“Seagulls, you know,” Jungkook tries to pass off casually, the pink of his tongue dashing out to lick the sugar off his lips. “Absolute vultures.”

Hoseok tsks in disappointment. “Was it seagulls or was it vultures?”

Jungkook stays silent an inexplicably long amount of time, glancing slowly between Hoseok and Jin. His eyes are wide like he’s trying to work out the lie in his head “...It was me.” 

Jin’s fingers are pressed to his temple as he sighs. “Right.” Setting down the knife, he picks up the cake and brings it to the table, placing it in the middle of the table. The rest of you all take a seat, filling in the spaces around the table. Taehyung slips in beside Jimin, Hoseok at the end of the table opposite Jungkook, and finally Jin, Namjoon, and you take the last of the seats. 

The cake is beautiful, neat and fluffy buttercream all over with swooping cursive written in a thin black stream. Unfortunately, a very delicate but obvious slice has been taken out so you have to focus to work out what the writing says. Once you do, you let out a reluctant chuckle, watching Namjoon blush once more, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his shirt shyly.

“‘Here lies Namjoon’s virginity,’” you recite, “‘1994-2020.’ Who came up with that?”

“That’s not impor-” Jin begins, but Taehyung swiftly cuts him off.

“I did!” he declares proudly. “Everyone agreed mine was funnier than Jin-hyung’s.”

“Obviously not everyone,” Jin replies bitterly, dishing himself up some of the rice closest to him. “Dig in, everyone, Yoongi and I worked hard on this. And congratulations Namjoon,” he adds, though he sends Namjoon a genuine smile, eyes twinkling. 

After everyone says their congratulations, the food is dug into and the cork of the bottle is popped, conversation flowing like the champagne. 

Over time, Namjoon seems to get used to the chatter about sex, perhaps not feeling so left out of the loop, and his face is more open and relaxed than ever, a dimple poking out when he smiles. You occasionally reach out to shove him playfully or squeeze his arm as the chatter continues, and he no longer freezes or stiffens up. It warms your heart that he feels a little more comfortable amongst you.

You’re happy to tuck into your meal, having worked up an appetite for lunch, but it’s barely more than a second after finishing your first helping that your phone buzzes. 

You slip it out casually, frowning when you see it’s a notification that you’ve been added to a group-chat. 

After that, you smother a scoff and slip your phone back into your pocket, hoping if your cheeks are red they can safely be attributed to the alcohol.

Glancing up, you see Jungkook stand up suddenly, eyes wide with barely-contained excitement as he picks up his bowl, chopsticks and champagne flute, scurrying over to dump them in the sink before disappearing upstairs. Yoongi stares at his empty seat in confusion, but shrugs and takes another mouthful of cake. You eat yours quickly enough that your stomach flips, or perhaps that’s just the anticipation.

After you’re done it takes you a few moments to build up the courage to look across to Hoseok, feeling his gaze hot on your skin. When you do, your eyes lock immediately, but he just continues to stare, lips pressed in a narrow line. 

Your heart leaps for a moment, wondering what that hard gaze means for you later on. Silently, as Taehyung continues to explain something to him with a mouth half-full of food, Hoseok lifts his eyebrow once, gaze darting to the roof. The message is clear. Go upstairs.

Biting your lip, you let Namjoon know you’re heading up, waving off his concern until he’s pulled back into a thread of conversation. You try to ignore the uncertain adrenaline rush that makes your hands tremble and your core throb all the way upstairs, until you’re knocking on Jungkook’s door.

The two of you share a look once he opens the door, one of anticipation and desire, and you let out a breathy chuckle. 

“What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?” you ask rhetorically, stepping in and collapsing onto the bed. 

“I’ll take it if it means getting a good fuck,” he states matter-of-factly, sitting himself beside you and tucking his legs up. “Besides; I’ve wanted to see Hobi-hyung in action for a while.” 

Sitting up, you think back to that day in the confessional booth, where he had so easily made you fall apart without even taking a single item of clothing off. You wondered if he’d deprive you of his body tonight as well. 

“I think he’s angry at me,” you admit, “before I left, he looked… intense.” 

“Why would he be angry at you?” Jungkook asks with a frown, his hand slipping under the baggy fabric of his black tee, rubbing at his shoulder like he’s aching to take the item off. 

You go to shrug, but then your mind flicks back to this morning. “The elimination,” you realise, dread rising in your stomach just as much as your arousal is. “I think he knows I was going to eliminate him.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen, round enough to be saucers. “Wait, really? Why him?”

You find the words dry up in your throat. “I- God, I don’t know. How am I meant to choose anyone when you’re all amazing? Maybe his had the least impact on me, I suppose.” You eye the door to the walkway warily. “I guess he’s determined to change that now.” 

Instead of replying, you’re taken aback when Jungkook throws his arms around you in a tight hug, his long hair brushing at your neck and shoulder as he tucks his chin into the hollow of your collarbone. Hesitantly, you bring your own arms up to hug him back, feeling your tension melt in the warm embrace.

“It must be so hard,” he murmurs, “I don’t think Hobi-hyung is really mad, you know? He probably just feels like he wasn’t good enough for you and wants to prove himself.” 

This thought just sends another spike of guilt through you, but you have no time to dwell on it before the door is clicking open, making you and Jungkook instinctively jump apart. 

Hoseok stands there, as intimidating as last time in all-black. Though he’s wearing just socks instead of the heavy duty boots he was in that day, there’s no denying the power he holds in the clothes he wears like armour. Leather pants so snug they’re like a second skin and a black long-sleeved shirt, tight but breathable cotton with a harness of thin leather straps providing some structure. His raven hair is swept back, but just a single stray lock hangs low over his brow, drawing your eyes back to his. “Starting without me?” he questions lightly, though his face is devoid of humour.

You swallow hard. “No… Master,” you add, seeing the expectant look on his face. Once he steps further into the room, you notice the black bag that was previously hidden behind his back. The duffel bag from last time. You suck in a breath and clench your thighs before you can even think to stop yourself, and Hoseok’s positively gleam at the sound. 

“Both of you have been very naughty today,” he explains, dumping the bag on the bed beside Jungkook, beginning to casually pull a heap of bright red nylon rope out. “Little Jungkookie ate the cake that Jin-hyung worked so hard on, even when he was specifically asked not to. And Y/n… Y/n knows exactly what she did.” Your eyes widen when Hoseok sets the multiple lengths of rope to one side in a neat folded coil and reaches back into the bag to produce a pair of wide, heavy-duty shears.

“Woah, hyung,” Jungkook exclaims in alarm, “I can apologise for the cake, I-”

“Settle, Jungkook, it’s okay,” Hoseok explains softly. “I told you we’re gonna be tying you up, yeah? This is so that we can cut the ropes quickly in case you want out. They aren’t part of the scene.”

You feel a thrill run through your veins at the gentle click of metal resting on the nightstand once Hoseok sets the scissors down. He hadn’t needed them for when your arms were tied. It meant that whatever you were going to do tonight would be more intense. The thought of everyone else downstairs having a good time and hanging out while you and Jungkook were up here getting bound by Hoseok… it somehow feels even more illicit and dirty. 

“Let’s do Jungkookie first, hm?” the dom proposes. “I’ve been wanting to see what you’d look like all prettied up for me. Choose red just for you.” 

Jungkook positively preens at the compliment, hands tucking into his lap and chest puffing out. “I’m excited, Master!”

Hoseok gestures for Jungkook to remove his clothes with a flat expression. “Don’t be,” he retorts calmly, “this isn’t a reward, it’s discipline. We’re going to learn a lesson about behaving.”

The camboy trembles, hastily shucking off his baggy shirt and pushing his sweatpants down, naked except for a pair of white socks. Your breath is taken away by how easily he bares himself to the cameras and to the two of you, eyes eager and nervous as Hoseok picks up one of the longer lengths of rope.

“I want you to kneel, Jungkookie,” Hoseok instructs, “kneel on the bed for me, arms at your sides.” 

Jungkook obeys, breath hitching as Hoseok approaches, passing the coil over his palm. You watch with baited breath as a bright red strand of rope is run around his narrow waist. As the professional dom begins looping, knotting and wrapping the rope around Jungkook’s torso, the boy’s eyes grow lidded, cock twitching as it rests back against his lower abdomen. 

It takes a while, but time is as smooth as velvet in the soft silence of the room, just gentle breaths and the whir of nylon rope sliding so beautifully along Jungkook’s skin. 

By the time Hoseok is done, Jungkook’s eyes barely open, so content with the feeling of being patiently wrapped up, and he hums lightly as Hoseok rechecks the tightness of each loop, slipping two fingers between rope and skin in several places. 

Rather than bondage or restraint, this looks like art. An elaborate harness of red contrasts beautifully against the pale golden flesh below, hardness of his chest and abs softened by the vaguely fishnet pattern, loops that interlock and curve across his body gracefully, the most careful and precise lattice of scarlet ropes.

“Pretty, isn’t he?” Hoseok questions, and a finger comes down to run through the glossy precum that has been smeared onto Jungkook’s lower stomach. The boy hisses, arching his hips up in search of contact, but all it takes is a sharp swat at the head of his cock and Jungkook is whining, thighs flexing with the force of keeping still. “Patience, my little prince,” Hoseok tuts, patting Jungkook’s cheek with a hand still wet with the camboy’s own precum, “we’re gonna teach you how to be patient today.”

Jungkook groans low in his throat, lips parting at the term of endearment, and Hoseok grins at it, tiger-like. 

“Oh, do you like that, hm? Wanna be my special prince today?” Hoseok runs his fingers through Jungkook’s long hair, the camboy sucking in a sharp breath when they snag on some knots. Jungkook nods, eyes round and glittering as he looks up at his Master. Hoseok pouts, tapping him once on the end of his button nose. “It’s a shame you weren’t behaving today, then wasn’t it? Maybe if you’re good for me tonight, you can earn it.”

Jungkook’s brows lift pleadingly, looking so small under Hoseok’s harsh stare. “I’ll be good, though, Master.”

“Mm, I’m sure you will,” Hoseok confirms, swiping a thumb over Jungkook’s nipple to make him shiver, before he fixes an iron gaze onto you.

You swallow, slipping out of your clothes as quickly as you can once he gives the same gesture as before, crossing your legs and arms to try and preserve some dignity. Hoseok just tuts, picking up two of the remaining sections of nylon rope, only one still left waiting on the bed. 

“Hands at your sides, kneeling,” he instructs sharply, and you feel the way your walls clench at the authority in his voice as you hustle to get into position. 

The harness he puts you in is different to Jungkook’s, accentuating your breasts with bands both above and below them, leaving your stomach free but doubling the rope over so that every loop that wraps around you is twice as thick. The final tie is slipped up between your breasts, around the back of your neck and tucking back down to hold it all together, and your breath shallows at the secure feeling of the rope. 

It’s peaceful; the warm stripes of friction as he pulls strands through loops, the gentle flicking of the ends against your skin until he folds them away, the way it embraces your chest so snugly, but not too tight. It’s only once he’s done checking the rope like he did with Jungkook that he picks up the second, shorter length of nylon, and by then you already feel the sleepy yet electric haze of subspace seeping throughout your body.

“Hands,” he instructs, and you hold them out for him, watching with heightened arousal as he binds them, the rope wrapping around and between your wrists until they’re locked together. Last time your hands were bound behind your back but like this, you can watch him as he works.

It’s quick - a testament to his expertise - but you spend every moment with your eyes locked onto him. The eyes, gleaming with control and satisfaction, the pink tip of his tongue poking out just slightly as he focuses. His thin fingers, looping and wrapping and knotting with such skill. 

His last move, eyes darting up and smirking once he catches you watching him, is to connect the thick cuff-like ropes to the top of your harness, pinning them up to your chest, folded hands resting at the base of your throat. You instinctively tug once he’s done, only to feel the rope around your back tighten and dig in, but no distance made. The feeling of being at his mercy only adds to the slick gathering between your thighs. 

Once he steps back, eying the two of you up, your breath catches in your throat. Both you and Jungkook are fully naked, somehow feeling even more vulnerable in the rope, and Hoseok stands across from the bed in all his black leather glory, eyes raking over you like he’s assessing his work. 

“Are you gonna touch us, Master?” Jungkook questions in a small voice, fingers clutching at his own thighs, cock flushed and needy between them. 

“Not you yet, Jungkookie. Gotta warm Y/n up first.” Your eyes widen - for what? - but Hoseok is moving closer run a hand down Jungkook’s back, fingers jumping over the strands of rope. “Do you wanna help me, baby?”

Jungkook nods, blushing when Hoseok pinches lightly at his cheek. 

Hoseok leans over to you, carding his fingers into your hair and curling them in so that he can hold you steady. Like this, kneeling on the bed, you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze, but he just tuts, holding you face-forward to Jungkook. “You wanna give her a kiss, Kookie?”

You swallow, fingers interlocking together as you look over to the camboy. He looks so needy, blissed out and pretty in his red rope, cock untouched and weeping. Your lips part automatically, tongue darting out to wet your lips and you don’t miss the way Jungkook’s eyes are drawn to it, lids now as he nods. 

With your hands pinned to your chest and kneeling, you don’t feel able to meet him halfway so you just wait as Jungkook crawls to you, glancing up at Hoseok for permission before burying your hands in your hair alongside the dom’s. With barely a second to suck in a breath, Jungkook ducks his head, his lips descending onto yours with sweet, unrestrained need. 

Unable to touch him back, you let your eyes slip shut with the soft presses of his mouth, taking everything he gives you. Everything about Jungkook in this moment is soft; his lips, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones, even the subtle scent of vanilla as his hair tickles your face - but the stiff grip in your hair is anything but, reminding you where exactly you are and the hand you’re under.

Your breath hitches as two things happen at once; Jungkook’s tongue presses into your mouth, deepening the kiss, and behind you Hoseok shifts, getting up on the bed behind you. Though you can’t see him, you become even more aware of his commanding presence, through the simple gesture of a fingertip, tracing beside lines of rope with a touch so light you shiver.

“You both look so pretty for me,” Hoseok murmurs warmly, his voice closer than you’d expected him to be, sounding like it’s right beside your air. Jungkook doubles his efforts in response, and your core is alight with excitement when you instinctively go to touch him, only to be reminded of the restraint you’re in. 

Jungkook kisses without abandon, not hurried but deep and purposeful. Though you still tremble under Hoseok’s teasing touch, your mind is so enraptured by Jungkook’s tongue in your mouth and teeth on your lips that you lose track of it. 

The camboy doesn’t dare venture his hands further than your face, cupping it so tenderly as he delves into you, so your eyes fly open with shock when two fingers are suddenly slipping through your folds, running over your clit for a single delicious moment of pleasure. You moan in shock and pull away to look down.

Between your kneeling legs is the slender but calloused hand of your Master himself, wrapped around your front and slipping inside you without question like you’re his. His to explore, his to ruin. You pant at the intrusion of two fingers, clenching around him, but his only response is to tug suddenly at your hair, pulling your gaze back up again.

Nipping sharply at the bridge of your ear, Hoseok scolds you. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” he growls harshly, “did I?”

“Sorry, Master,” you reply without thinking, barely a moment before you let out a muffled squeak from Jungkook joining you together again, wasting no time to obey. 

Hoseok doesn’t stop his motions between your legs; on the contrary, he continues without pause, fingers moving inside you with a steady urgency. 

For a while, your brows furrow, hips rocking below him. He keeps missing your g-spot, fingers too straight to press against it on each thrust, and he moves to three fingers without touching your clit at all, hand held foward off of you to avoid friction. You moan brokenly into Jungkook’s mouth as you realise Hoseok’s doing it intentionally, stretching you out almost clinically, without regard or want for your pleasure. You go weak at the thought, sinking forward into Jungkook’s embrace, but soon enough the fingers are removed from you completely. Empty and unsatisfied just like earlier, you huff and begin to kiss the camboy more frantically, desperate for some pleasure to replace it. 

But Hoseok clearly isn’t having it. “Stop,” he commands shortly, “hands off.”

Jungkook sits back quickly, making sure you won’t slump over before he presses his hands to his thighs again, cock twitching at the continued neglect. Blinking, he licks his swollen lips and glances behind you to Hoseok in confusion. “Master?”

Your mouth goes dry when you hear the unmistakable sound of a zip being lowered. Hoseok’s hand leaves your hair suddenly, and you feel unmoored between the two men, just you and your hands tucked under your chin. “You tasted her pretty little pussy in Week One, didn’t you, Jungkookie? Would you like her to return the favour?”

Eyes wide, you drop your gaze down to Jungkook’s aching dick, as it twitches and leaks another thin trail of precum, the boy groaning. “Please, Master.” His fingers flex, holding back from touching it. “‘Hurts,” he whines.

You bite your lip, mouth watering. He’s not as big as Namjoon, but you know how fully he filled you just yesterday, and to have him in your mouth… “Please,” you croak out, fingers wiggling in the air as you’re unable to lower yourself to him. 

“Good girl,” Hoseok praises, hands strong on your shoulders as he helps you down, elbows propping yourself up awkwardly in the space that Jungkook’s shuffled back from. “Gotta warm Kookie up too, don’t we? Open up, princess.”

Like this, you’re able to keep upright, but barely, craning your neck to look up at Jungkook. His cock is in front of you, and this close you can see just how flushed it is, the tip almost perfect. Hoping your pleading gaze can communicate your desperation, you open your mouth, letting your tongue rest just over your bottom lip.

Jungkook’s brows furrow in wanton need as he glances towards Hoseok. “Can I touch her, Master? Help her?”

“Of course,” Hoseok’s voice allows from behind you, palms running over the flesh of your ass, “but my little prince better not cum.”

Jungkook visibly shivers at the nickname, hips jerking uselessly. “Y-yes, Master,” he allows, before tipping your chin up so gently, gripping himself to guide his length into your waiting mouth. 

You moan the moment your lips wrap around his tip, the tang of his precum bursting on your tongue as you flick it over the slit, making Jungkook thrust up again, enough that his cock reaches the back of your mouth. You’re barely able to avoid gagging, but you inhale harshly through your nose, blinking up at him as he brushes your hair back with a shaky apology. 

Knowing he can’t orgasm, Jungkook seems happy enough to lazily roll his hips, just enjoying the wet warmth around him as you follow his rhythm, enjoying the slight ache of your jaw around his girth. Hoseok gives you only a few moments to reach this equilibrium before you feel his cock lining up against you. 

Eyes widening, you’re given no time to prepare as he slides inside you, slowly but without pause, making your back arch with the intrusion.

You moan, muffled, as Hoseok pulls out and begins to pick up a steady pace, once again sliding right past your g-spot, not fast enough to make your toes curl and not deep enough to make your eyes roll. There’s no denying he’s doing it on purpose, and the thought that he might not let you cum at all has you whining desperately around Jungkook’s cock, loud enough that Hoseok hears.

To your disappointment, he tsks and pulls out, tugging at your hair to pull you off Jungkook. “What the fuck?” you complain bitterly, sucking off the drool that’s accumulated in the corners of your mouth. Equally deprived, Jungkook makes a noise of confusion, but before he can speak up, a commanding voice calls out to you.

“That’s it, on your back,” Hoseok orders, making you jump as he smacks the flesh of your ass. “If you’re gonna be ungrateful you won’t get anything at all.”

You pout, craning your neck to look back at him. “Hobi,” you whine, hoping to appeal to that soft inner that got you what you wanted the last time you were scening with him, but it doesn’t work. 

Impatient, his hands find your hips, flipping you around unceremoniously. Your breath is punched out of you as you’re suddenly landing on your back, and you whimper as he hooks a finger in your harness over the top of your breast, using it to tug you higher up the bed so that him and Jungkook are on either side of your waist. 

“You’ve been far better behaved,” Hoseok directs at Jungkook casually, reaching into the duffle bag to pull out a square foil packet, “so you’ll get my cock instead.”

Jungkook bites his lip harshly, shuffling on his knees as Hoseok rolls a condom on. “Thank you, Master,” he replies politely, eyes lidded and needy. 

“What a good boy,” Hoseok coos, reaching over to brush a fond hand over Jungkook’s cheek. “Do you wanna fuck Y/n too, my little prince?” You let out a low groan at the prospect, at the way Hoseok speaks for you like you’re a toy of his. The thought is more erotic than you’d expect, and your legs part unconsciously.

Jungkook whimpers at the sight, dark hair curling at his temples with perspiration. “Please, Master.”

“Go on, then, baby.” Hoseok gestures for him to straddle you, and you whimper as Jungkook’s form blocks the light from the ceiling, framing him in a silhouette of dark hair. 

Your legs part further as he settles between them, cock brushing between your folds lightly until he puts a hand down to line himself up. With one arm bracing himself, Jungkook slowly drives his cock deep inside you, small rocking motions to get you accustomed to him as he bottoms out. The two of you groan in unison, the feeling of being full again like bliss.

Before Jungkook can set a pace, you hear Hoseok’s voice again behind him. “There’s only one thing,” the dom adds in an apologetic tone, “Y/n hasn’t earned an orgasm yet, not like my sweet prince has. If you want to fuck her, Jungkookie, she better not cum.”

You let out a frustrated moan, heel kicking into the mattress. “Fuck,” you whine, hips already rocking against Jungkook’s length inside of you, “are you serious?”

Calmly, Hoseok clicks open a bottle of what must be lube, and you feel Jungkook go lax above you, holding his weight off of your torso but dropping his head onto the bed beside yours, groaning lowly. “Of course I’m serious,” he explains simply as he preps Jungkook with his fingers, “I’m doing you a favour, Y/n. This way you won’t make the same mistake twice.”

You sob, feeling Jungkook twitch inside you from the pleasure he’s receiving from Hoseok. As the dom finally deems Jungkook ready and lines himself up, you realise why Hoseok was so popular at his job. Handling two subs, let alone one who was getting punished and one who was now getting rewarded, was a tough balance, and yet he does it with such cool and professional ease. 

Jungkook curses, rocking his hips with stuttered gasps, and you feel the impact of Hoseok’s hips through Jungkook’s body as he thrusts the first time, the camboy hurriedly throwing his other arm up on the other side of your head to prop himself up with more stability. You can feel the rhythm as he gets fucked, and the way his chest heaves, breaths panting over your bare shoulder. 

With your hands tied to your chest and lain on your back, you quickly realise there is nothing you can do to chase any pleasure for yourself, and you let out another low sob. You won’t be making the same mistake twice indeed, you muse as Jungkook barely shifts inside you. He feels so good, but it’s just not enough for you to get anywhere close to your own high. The lesson has most certainly been learned; if you want pleasure, you play by Hoseok’s rules.

“Please, Master,” you pipe up desperately, looking past Jungkook’s shoulder to the dom’s face, calm even as his hips rock with the graceful fluidity of a dancer, every stroke making Jungkook cry out. “I’ll do anything, Master, I’m sorry for being bad, just please let me come!”

A grin spreads across his face, satisfied, even as he grunts from exertion, Jungkook trembling above you as he’s brought mercilessly to the edge. “It’s too late for that,” Hoseok pants out with a chuckle, “it’s already time for my little prince to cum.”

Jungkook moans, a high-pitched keen at the pet-name, and the sound is so sinful you can’t help but clench, making him stiffen impossibly inside you. 

It only takes a thrust or two more, and a gruff command to cum before Jungkook does just that, spilling inside you with a drawn-out whine, thanking his Master with every breath he can suck into his lungs. 

He manages to keep his weight off of you as he rides his high, Hoseok fucking him into oversensitivity before he pulls out, leaving briefly to discard the condom. Jungkook pulls out of you with a wince, but a satisfied one, and rolls over onto his back, running his fingers under the lines of rope lazily as he catches his breath.

Once Hoseok returns, he begins untying you first, and as your wrists are loosened from your chest and promptly released, the cool air on your skin feels like defeat. Your eyes slip shut, a pout no doubt on your lips as you give him nothing but dead weight, forcing the professional to manhandle your torso as he undoes the rope bit by bit. 

You open your eyes once he’s done, frowning at him as he releases the rope from Jungkook’s body. Without looking, Hoseok chastises you. “Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds, “I’m sure next time you’ll be behaved like our Jungkookie here.” The boy in question preens softly at the compliment, blinking up at Hoseok as the dom brushes his hair out of his eyes.

The sight warms your heart, and you can’t deny that Hoseok has the right to discipline you, no doubt feeling self-conscious about his place on the show. And the feeling of him playing you so skilfully is something that will stick with you for a good while. You press your thighs together, sighing out at the slick still between them.

After finishing with Jungkook, speaking quietly with him in praise or reassurance, he comes back around to you, rubbing at the few red marks on your chest and wrists that have appeared from your movements. His eyes search your face, and you’re surprised to see the absolute calm in them, clearly switched out of the Master persona and just into a dominant but caring one. “Not hurt?” 

You shake your head after taking the time to really think it through, wiggling your fingers and toes.

“Not angry?” 

Again, you take a moment to consider, but shake your head.

Hoseok smiles down at you, warm as he squeezes your hands fondly. “Good. Now I know you can’t sleep in your own bed, so Jungkookie has kindly offered for you to stay here with him. Take care of each other, okay? I’m just down the hall.”

By the time Hoseok zips up his pants - you note that even after all that, you hadn’t seen him properly naked - and gathers his bag, Jungkook’s managed to slip his legs under the blankets, snoring away peacefully with the aftermath of a good orgasm.

After the dom leaves, you get under the covers yourself, watching the relaxing cycle of Jungkook’s chest rising and falling, the way his eyes flutter lightly in his sleep, but it doesn’t lull you to unconsciousness.

Instead, the unsatisfied throb between your legs just grows more ferocious than ever. If you could just get yourself off…

Your hand trails down, slipping between your legs naturally, but the first swipe of your index finger against your clit gives you pause. Hoseok had pretty clearly stated that you weren’t to masturbate without permission unless you were in a scene with another contestant and, well… 

You grimace as Jungkook snuffles in his sleep, wriggling around to get more comfortable. You can’t exactly wake him up.

Which leaves you with only one option.

Fuck it. As quietly as you can, you slip out of bed, stumbling over to your pile of clothes. After retrieving your phone - still somehow tucked neatly into your pants pocket - you hop back into bed and seek out the one contact who can alleviate your need. Hoseok himself.

You answer the call with shaking fingers, those not still buried inside you. When Hoseok’s voice comes through, it’s thankfully quiet and low, but the words still make you keen.

“Princess couldn’t wait until the morning, hm?” Hoseok chuckles quietly at your whine of response. “That’s okay. Let Master help you.”

You sigh out, sitting the phone so that it lies on the pillow beside you. “Please, Master,” you whisper, “can I touch my clit?”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “such a polite girl now. Baby took her lesson well. You can touch it, princess. Get yourself close for me.”

When you change the angle of the fingers thrusting inside you to make room to rub at your clit, you could cry from the satisfaction, biting your lip to muffle the moan that’s pulled from your lungs. 

Glancing quickly beside you to ensure Jungkook’s asleep, the sight of him sleeping so peacefully as you get off right beside him has you clenching down, and your back arches off the bed. 

Your high is close, and the faster you strum your clit frantically, the more you pant, desperate to keep quiet. Your mouth drops open as you suddenly feel the orgasm approaching, and you turn to the phone on the pillow, getting close enough that he can hear your whisper. “I’m go-gonna cum, Hoseokie, fuck,” you choke out before quickly pressing your lips together, preventing further noise.

His voice is low velvet on the phone, a calm command. “Cum for Master now, princess.”

You feel your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, crashing so violently that you curl over your hands, shivering and convulsing as pleasure rocks every inch of your body. As it floods you entirely, you feel hot tears stream down your face, ones you didn’t even know you were shedding. Your thighs shake and your chest heaves and you don’t stop your fingers until there’s no more pleasure left to be milked from you. 

When you finally cum down from your high, panting, you fumble clumsily for the phone. “Tha-thank you, Master.”

Perhaps it’s the post-orgasm delirium, but you swear you hear the smile in his voice when he murmurs, “you’re most welcome, princess. Now get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

After hanging up, you lock your phone and chuck it down onto the carpet beside the bed carelessly, the wetness between your thighs no longer uncomfortable, now just a satisfying reminder of the pleasure he finally allowed you. Taking one last look at the tranquil face of Jungkook as he slept, you let yourself join him in a blissful unconsciousness.

ELIMINATION GRAPH

No elimination this week ! What a doozy, huh? If you were curious, here are the results of the vote!

It was taken after exactly 48 hours of the poll being open, and required a sign-in with email to prevent spamming so that it was as fair as possible!

In the future, we’ll use this format for both Fan Favourite and Elimination voting. I’ll tell you the top three for audience fan-favourites in the following chapter, and for elimination you’ll find out Y/n’s final decision in the following chapter, plus this graph at the end for the complete results.

Thanks for all your support !

[misschiuahua]

Marjorie

Explicit - Part 1 of 3

Summary:

Marjorie is a colonist onboard of the Covenant, when a power surge wakes her up from her stasis and destroys her pod.

They're still six years away from their destination and she can't go back to sleep. Her only companion is the synthetic, Walter.

Nobody could fault her for feeling snappish.

However... It seems like Walter has a suggestion to make her feel better.

Notes:

So, don't think too long about this one. It's just an excuse for sex with Walter inside the Covenant.

It doesn't follow the movie (so they never land and they never meet David).

Just a nice time with a nice synthetic.

This is pure smut. You’ve been warned.

Chapter 1

They were still six years away from their final destination -Origae-6 -when her stasis pod malfunctioned. Actually, Marjorie’s pod wasn’t the only one that malfunctioned, but she was the only one that survived it.

A shockwave made a few systems burn and created a fire inside the ship. Despite Walter’s fast response to it, 7 colonists burned to death while other 12 suffocated inside their pods. Marjorie was the only one who survived, but her pod was damaged. She couldn’t go back.

She’d have to wait six years to reach their new home awake.

Walter -the synthetic -told her that -as she was unharmed -and there were no further threats to the ship, he couldn’t wake the rest of the crew.

He assured her he’d do his best to fix her pod so she could go back into stasis, but soon enough, it became clear it wasn’t possible.

Marjorie had always prided herself in being a strong woman, one that could handle adversities without breaking down. However, the day that Walter told her she wouldn’t be able to go back into stasis, she’d cried. A lot.

The idea of spending six years alone with a synthetic, travelling through space wasn’t a particularly pleasant one.

Arrangements were soon made; she got a cot and Walter procured food for her.

Marjorie did her best to keep busy, but she was a botanist, and there were no plants to look at. She managed to find things to read, research, but she still felt so useless.

Time went by slowly in space. Or so it seemed to her.

After one year and a half, it felt as if she’d already lived one hundred years on that blasted spaceship.

Walter was decent company -for a synthetic, at least. He talked to her often, because he was concerned her mind might deteriorate if she didn’t have interaction. He also made her exercise and feed well.

It was like having a nanny.

Marjorie believed she’d handled things well enough, if one considered her position.

But… After 18 months, she wasn’t that well anymore.

She snapped a few times at Walter for no reason at all; she was feeling cranky and trapped. Her skin felt electrified and sensitive and she was just so fucking…

There was a knock on her door.

“Come in.” She called, snapping a book shut.

It was Walter, obviously.There wasn’t anybody else.

She sighed. “Walter. I’m sorry about earlier.” She told him, even as he entered her room and let the door close behind himself. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but it’s not fair to treat you this way.”

He was silent for a minute. “If I may, Marjorie?” He asked, in that overly polite and formal way he had of speaking.

“Yes?”

“I’m aware of what the problem is.” He told her quite simply. “You’re sexually frustrated.”

“I beg your pardon?” Was he for real?

“You’re feeling pent-up because of the situation, so I imagine you aren’t able to find release on your own.”

He wasn’t wrong. Marjorie had always been healthy and open about her sexuality, however in those last months, she’d been unable to bring herself relief through masturbation.

Perhaps because of this feeling of being trapped inside this ship, wasting so much time, her libido had been affected. After a few -frustrating -tries, she gave up on masturbating all together.

If she was to be honest, she couldn’t find pleasure in the act anymore. Her fantasies vanished from her head, probably because the situation looked so bleak.

“As you were able before…”

“Oh my god!” She snapped. “You’ve been keeping track of this?”

“I’ve been keeping track of your health.” He pointed out, like it was the same thing.

“I can’t believe this.” She sighed, hiding her face in her hands, feeling humiliated.

“If I may?”

Now what? “Yes?” She groaned.

“My design is considered attractive to many people.” He spoke.

Wait… What?

Marjorie looked at Walter in confusion. “I… Guess.”

She wasn’t blind. She knew he was attractive in that very clean kind of way. And she couldn’t say he was terrible in general; despite her moods and her pressing solitude, Walter had been a constant companion. Whoever had programmed him, had made him quite…

“...so you would consider me.” He finished, and Marjorie realised she hadn’t actually paid attention to what he’d said.

“Consider you for what?”

“To relieve your tension.”

It took Marjorie way too long to understand what he was saying.

Not exactly to understand it, but to accept he was actually offering to…

“Are you suggesting we have sex?” She gasped.

“I’m fully capable of performing it.” Walter informed her, like he was telling her he could administer CPR. “It’s part of my programing.”

Who the hell would program him for such things? What was even the point?

“So you’re like a sex bot?”

“No. This is a feature to be used at my discretion, if I find it necessary.”

“And it’s necessary?”

“It might make you feel less stressed and snappish.”

Great. The synthetic was telling her she needed to get laid. Just wonderful.

Marjorie took a deep breath in. “That’s very…” Another breath in. “Kind of you, but I’m fine.”

Walter didn’t seem like he agreed with that, but he didn’t push. He told her that, if she reconsidered it, he’d be available.

Awesome.

***

The problem was… Once Walter presented the offer, Marjorie couldn’t think of anything but it.

She saw herself watching him more and more, and that question kept burning in her mind: why not?

For the first time in what seemed like forever, she was actually feeling something other than worry and loneliness. There was a thrill deep inside her, a desire…

It took her two weeks to decide to just go with it.

She was finishing her dinner, when she gathered her courage. “Walter?”

“Yes, Marjorie?”

“Is your… offer still standing?”

He turned to her with those old eyes of his. “Yes, Marjorie.”

“Okay.” She let out a breath. “I know you have some duties now, but… Once you’re free, can you stop by my room?”

“Yes.”

She nodded, then got up and left, hurrying to her room. She thought that asking would be the difficult part, but Walter wasn’t a difficult man -synthetic. He wouldn’t gloat or tease her about her need; he’d just go with it.

For her health, apparently.

Once she was back in her room she paced, then organized -which took like five minutes, because she didn’t have things to make a mess -then paced some more. She washed up, then changed clothes, then remembered she had three outfits and he’d seen them all.

She wasn’t trying to seduce him.

When Walter finally knocked on her door, Marjorie forced herself to sit down on her bed. She cleared her throat before telling him to come in.

He entered much like he had two weeks before, and Marjorie saw the door closing behind him.

“Just this once.” She told him from the start.

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Is there anything that…” Oh god, why was this so strange? “Anything you can’t do?”

“Nothing that will damage my body or system.” He informed her simply.

Fair enough. “And if I don’t feel comfortable…”

“Whenever you wish to stop, just say the word.”

“Right…” She was really doing this, right? “Come here. We’ll try… Kissing for a bit. I guess.”

She laid down on the bed, and Walter came and laid next to her.

“Okay.” She took another deep breath. This wasn’t looking like that great of an idea now. “Kissing.”

“Yes, Marjorie.”

He leaned down and kissed her softly. Marjorie thought he’d taste like rubber -like kissing a boot might taste like -but it wasn’t that at all. It was a bit strange -his lips weren’t warm, but they also weren’t exactly cold -and they did feel a lot like normal lips.

Walter kissed her slowly for a while, until she pressed her tongue to his lips and he opened up for her.

It was strange, but it wasn’t bad. Actually, he was a great kisser. He matched her rhythm perfectly, like he was learning and applying what he’d learned immediately. It was strange not feeling his breath against hers, but Marjorie was enjoying this.

She’d never thought she’d missed physical contact this much.

Her hand went to his nape as she pulled him deeper into her kiss. Walter’s hand dove under her shirt, but only to caress her waist, not going any further.

Marjorie suddenly felt hungrier than she’d felt in a long time.

“Walter.” She gasped against his mouth. “Here.” She pushed his hands down, hoping he’d get message without her actually having to say it.

Fortunately, he did.

His hand found its way inside her loose pants and into her panties. His finger teased her clit in slow circles, before venturing further down.

Marjorie felt a bit embarrassed to admit she was already wet and waiting for him, but she didn’t mind that much at this point.

Walter put a finger inside her and she gasped into his mouth. The heel of his hand kept pressure on her clit, as his finger fucked her slowly.

Marjorie pulled her shirt up, exposing her breasts to him. “Here. Please.” She whined softly.

Once again, he understood what she wanted without her having to explicitly say it.

His lips closed around her nipple and sucked it, making Marjorie mewl in pleasure.

At some point, he added another finger inside her, the pumping motion getting faster and harder. The heel of his hand was mercilessly grinding against her clit.

He crooked his fingers inside her pussy, and Marjorie came with a scream.

She’d missed that sweet release.

She laid there, sprawled on her back, trying really hard to catch her breath, while Walter patiently waited for her.

“Take off your shirt.” She told him, her face flushed and her skin covered in sweat. “Then lay on your back.”

Walter did as told, while she got up to get rid of her own clothes. Once she was naked, she straddled his thighs and opened his zipper, just enough to free his cock.

She pumped him with her hands -even though he probably didn’t need her help to get hard. She just wanted to feel it, to get this sense of -fake -power.

He grew hard on her hand. He was long and nicely thick, and Marjorie wondered -not for the first time -why the fuck he was even built and programed this way.

People had some weird ideas.

But then again… She was about to use him, so…

She rubbed her pussy against his hard cock, like a cat in heat, spreading her wetness on him. She then grasped him and held him in place while she lowered herself inch by inch.

He was thick and it had been a while for her, so she did it slowly, loving the stretch of him, and how his cock felt so real and so good inside her.

Walter’s hands had gone to her waist, but he wasn’t pulling her down on him. It felt like he was just giving her balance to keep her pace.

It seemed like forever until he was all in, and she was sitting pretty on his nice cock.

“Oh god.” She felt so full and so alive.

Marjorie leaned forward, finally looking at Walter again. His eyes were fixed on her face, taking all the details in.

It felt incredibly hot just then.

She put her hands on his chest and moved experimentally. Oh yes, good to go.

At first, she rode him slowly. She let herself feel every inch of him moving in and out of her pussy. She enjoyed the feeling of his body dragging across hers as she moved. His hands helped her along, but he didn’t rush her; he let her set the pace. She let her nipples brush over his chest and kissed him long and slow.

She felt languid and as if she could do this for hours.

Then, something started building and coiling inside her, and slow wasn’t that good anymore.

She straightened up and started riding his cock properly, bouncing up and down on it. She moved his right hand to her tit, showed him how to massage it for her.

Her own hand went to her clit and she rubbed it furiously.

She was really close, just so close…

Walter pinched her nipple and she came, calling his name. However, since she didn’t really need to worry about his pleasure, she kept riding him to come down, instead of just stopping.

She liked this way much better.

She dismounted him and fell back on the tiny bed, breathing even harder than before, but feeling extremely satisfied.

“Thanks.” She murmured to Walter, still not believing they’d actually done it.

He sat up. “You’re welcome, Marjorie.”

She thought he’d just leave, but Walter -always so attentive -cleaned himself up, then did the same for her.

“I’ll leave you to rest.” He told her softly, since her eyes were already closing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Marjorie.”

“Thanks, Walter…” She murmured sleepily once again.

As far as unique events went… This was pretty great.

[spacehologramcollection]

A Night in with the Kombat Kast would include;

Have some fluff and then some smut later. Because I am a smut writing goblin. Who can’t go five minutes without writing some filth. There’s a little bit of filth in here, not a lot but it is mildly, very mild, like a lemon and herb chicken from Nandos mild. But the NSFW warning will apply, 18+ sorry guys.  Gifs don’t belong to me!

Sub Zero/ Kuai Liang;

·         A night in for you two is like a date. It’s basically all he can manage.

·         He doesn’t really like to leave the Temple unless he has to. He hates interacting with new people, large crowds and prefers peace and quiet to loud and crowded places. So anywhere like the City for date night is not happening. He would try for you he really would. But it makes him uncomfortable. That’s why you tend to stay in.

·         He’d cook you something. He’s not the best but he does try. Before you two settle down and cuddle up on the couch.

·         He’s such an awkward cuddlier at first, like he has no idea what to do with his hands, or where to put them at first.

·         He’ll also run you a hot bath, pour you some wine and will literally let you talk about anything you want. It could be trashy work talk or about something he has no idea about; he’ll listen intently and will actually ask questions.

·         He’ll let you choose whatever movie you wanted to watch, when you’re cuddled up on the couch. Pop Culture is not something he’s well versed in, he’s never seen Star Wars or anything like that. He lies to Johnny when he says he’s no time for fantasy or fiction, he’s a soft spot for it… he just doesn’t want to admit it.

·         He’s totally into Game of Thrones. He attempts to ignore the mass amounts of sex and focuses more on the politics and plot lines.

·         Please don’t point to the Night King and be like “It’s you, but with horns, and evil… and dead” he is not going to be happy bunny about that.

·         Will also just like to sway around to music when its just the two of you.

·         He doesn’t drink a lot. So, you can’t even make a joke about him cracking open a cold one with Hanzo now. He does however, have the occasional glass of wine with you, whilst you both read and cuddle up together on the sofa.

·         If you paint or sew or do anything creative, he’ll literally be so intrigued with watching you do it. Will attempt to learn the skill, because a mans never too old to learn.

·         He’ll love to lounge with you and hold you close. You’re amazing and he loves every moment he gets to spend with you. His Clan are important to him and he knows it’s hard to juggle a relationship and that. But he appreciates your patience and loyalty to him and therefore them, so he makes up for his lapses in spending time with you with these nights in.

Kabal;

·         He gets a night in? Fuck yes. First thing he does, jumps in the shower, doesn’t fucking matter if you’re in there, he’s joining you. He needs to shower ASAP and get in his jim-jams, because he’s had a hard day okay? He’s bullshitting you, he spent most of it making paper planes and throwing them. But still, he’s had a hard day of putting up with Kano.

·         By Jim Jams, he means a pair of joggers and no shirt. Will literally lounge there in nothing else. He needs to answer the door, hope whoever’s knocking doesn’t mind seeing his nipples. Because he sure as hell doesn’t care. It’s not a bad sight for you at all, no complaints from you, since he’ll throw you the t-shirt he should be wearing.

·         Obviously after his accident, he’ll take the t-shirt and try and keep well covered up. You can occasionally convince him to return to his, night time, nip nops out time. With the promise of a massage or you batting your eyelashes asking for his shirt.

·         He doesn’t cook, he burns things, but he doesn’t cook. It’s just easier if you order in, you get to choose because he’ll literally eat anything. Wherever you decide to order from he’ll find something to eat from it.

·         Doesn’t drink a lot but does enjoy having a drink or two when he can relax. Will go through the recordings to see what TV he has to catch up on. Will get insulted and be betrayed, if he finds you’ve watched one your shows without him. The lies and deceit are tearing this relationship apart.

·         Will let you sit on his lap all night or lounge on him. He’ll let you basically use him as a human chair. As long as you’re close to him he doesn’t care.

·         His phone is getting muted. He’ll take a cute selfie with you, send it, and warn people you have his full attention. Will literally look at it when getting a call, watch it ring, and then just do nothing. It’s his me and your time, and nothing is going to ruin that.

·         He’ll pick a movie out for you both to watch. It’ll either end in you two making out during it and having to go finish it off in the bedroom. Or he will fall asleep and end up trapping you in a vice like grip. He’s a lazy little shit at times.

·         You’ve made a drinking game out of Johnny’s movies, you always end up absolutely smashed and singing Piano man at the top of your lungs. It’s fucking beautiful. The apartment block is alive with the sound of music.

·         Playing video games drunk. You know he’d troll on WOW or something.

·         Mario Kart when drunks. He’s the type of dick to always choose Rainbow road, whilst you’re arse over tit drunk. Fucking disaster boy.

·         Sometimes, especially after his accident, he can’t sleep so you’ll stay awake talking about absolute shit. Like if aliens exist, if you had to, which cryptid you’d rather fuck. Just absolute shit till 3 in the morning.

·         Times like this, you end up making like box cake mix and eating it whilst in your underwear. Because height of classiness.

·         You’ll also piss his neighbours off playing loud, obnoxious music till stupid O’clock. And dancing around like a bunch of idiots.

·         After his accident, he’ll still do this, it makes him feel normal being a bit of a cunt again to be fair. He’s a bit smug, because his neighbours dare not complain, because he you know, got burnt to a crisp. And don’t wanna tell you guys to turn it down. You party on, you funky little crispy man.

Scorpion/ Hanzo Hasashi;

·         Like Sub, nights in tend to be your date nights and become a default for you two spending time together. Except, he’s a much better cook and a little bit less awkward. He’s got some experience with dating. Not a lot but still more than his icy bro.

·         He’ll definitely cook for you, whatever you want, he will make you. You end up doing it together and bonding over it.

·         You’ll also take a nice warm bath together, both of you unwinding together and letting all the stress melt away with the steam. He’s a sucker for a bath bomb too. Just no glitter. He cannot cope with the glitter in his hair.

·         Speaking of hair, he has to brush his religiously or it will get tangled. And he has to wear it up most of the time, because it’s actually pretty long.

·         Is down for just talking and listening to music. Or maybe playing chess, he sometimes lets you win, but not always.

·         He’ll also take moments like this, to try and teach you a bit of Japanese if you’re willing to learn. Or he’ll teach you more about his culture. It’s a chance for you two to be intimate and close, so what better moment to share personal things.

·         He’ll also talk to you about the future more than the past. You’ll plan your life together, like what you want to call your kids, first, middle and second middle names. Also, where you’d ideally live.

·         He smiles a lot on these nights in, because its just the two of you and he loves it. He loves you.

·         Candle light. And Candle light only. Sure, there’s actual lights but it just seems more intimate and cooler with candles. Fucking wax everywhere though.

·         He’s more receptive of pop culture than Sub. Just don’t put on reality TV, he cannot fucking cope with that. He would be a massive fan of Star Wars. And you fucking know it. He loves that Space Bullshit that makes his life seem simple.

·         You’ll also be able to lounge on him, he loves it when your head is on his lap and he can play with your hair.

·         Such a softie. Just a man who needs a hug and a hot chocolate with marshmallows in.

Erron Black;

·         Nights in are rare and not something he’s overly fond of. He loves to be outside, doing things and pretty active. But, he doesn’t mind the occasional night in with you. Gotta relax the old bones, you know.

·         He’s got a fair amount of stories and he’s ready to share them with you. Sexual, none-sexual it doesn’t fucking matter. He’ll tell you anything and everything you wanna know. He’s lived a full life and has seen some shit.

·         He’s partial to a hard drink, like strong sipping whisky. So he’ll love to sip that whilst watching you, do your thing. Whatever it is, whether it be painting, sewing, reading or hell even writing smut. I say this to validate myself.

·         He doesn’t read, he doesn’t have the patience or time. Instead, he’d be down for playing a game of cards. Doesn’t matter if its strip poker or just poker. He is down for it.

·         If he’s still slumming it with the Black Dragon, you’ll get to do a lot more on your nights in, in comparison to if he’s in Outworld. If you’re in Outworld, there’s a chance Ermac may just float into the room. It’s weird, just don’t even ask.

·         In his Black Dragon days, he’d be down for watching a film, A western obviously. Just so he can tell you how accurate/inaccurate it is. Or how nobody actually talks like that, whilst talking exactly like that.

·         Will let you play dress up with his clothes. He thinks it’s cute and loves how everything hangs off you yet is tight in all the right places. Spot on.

·         If you’re in Outworld, he’ll take this opportunity to teach you to shoot, how to use explosives and how to come up with a bad ass sass.

·         He’d be a sucker if you cook for him on your night in. A dish from Texas would make his heart melt for you and make the night 110% better for him. Like it just brings back memories and he loves it.

·         Nights in with him are pretty tame compared to your nights out.  

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

The thing I love about Otto, he is the guy who...Peter Parker is supposed to be the everyman, and in a lot of ways he is, but he is always dating the most beautiful women in the world...supermodels, Gwen Stacy...And Otto was the guy, I am not a big fan of the late-90s as an era of Spider-Man. There was a character called Stunner who came along and was this big Amazonian woman with super-strength, who was Otto's partner and love-interest and the big reveal was that she was a virtual reality simulation and the real person was an overweight woman in a virtual reality machine. But when Otto finds out he says, I didn't love you for what you looked like, I loved you for your mind...I can’t remember if she [Aunt May]  saw Betty [Brant] as a bit of a Jezebel because she was older

We er...we really need to unpack this. I already did a post where I cited the above as part of why Christos Gage should never have been allowed to write Spider-Man.

But lets dive deeper into the idiocy of this. 

First of all if nothing else the above quote and panels really do prove beyond doubt that Marvel knew what they were doing when they paired Slott and Gage...well sorta. Gage and Slott’s approaches to Spider-Man fundamentally come from the same place of fundamental misunderstanding and regressive beliefs thus they were perfect to work together. It’s just that Gage is a comparatively more competent writer than Slott and therefore Slott should’ve been HIS understudy and fill-in guy not the other way around.

So let’s dive into the less awful bits first. Like Slott Gage doesn’t know his continuity and is too lazy to even google it.

Let’s put aside how Stan Lee himself  stated Betty Brant is younger  than Peter NOT older, the age difference would’ve been insignificant enough (Peter was a senior in high school when he was dating Betty, that’s stated in the issues) so what is this ‘Jezebel’ crap? The fact his mind would go to that rather than just Aunt May thinking MJ would be a better match is at best eyebrow raising.

Moving on, the crux of his assessment of Otto and Stunner’s relationship is way off the mark. Ignoring the fact that Stunner and the reveals made about her occurred in 1994-1995 (so literally not the LATE 1990s at all), he’s totally distorted the story as it unfolded. As such let me show you some of the relevant pages.

Gage’s assessment of Otto and Stunner’s relationship hinges upon two interconnected ideas.

a) Otto was unaware that her stunning appearance was a facade and

b) That he didn’t care upon finding out

As you can see that is a distortion of what the actual stories conveyed.

Otto was always  aware Stunner’s appearance was a facade because he invented the technology that made it possible in the first place!

Otto also began dating her BEFORE she became Stunner. This does indeed support the idea that for him outer beauty is not that relevant. 

For myself I find this idea debatable for a few reasons. Not only in the above images does he directly refer to Stunner as beautiful and the love of such a beautiful woman makes him happy but in the classic Spec #75 Bill Mantlo implies Otto took a fancy to Felicia due to her being attractive.

I grant you it’s far from impossible to interpret that Otto in fact was referring to Stunner’s personality as beautiful and took a shining to Felicia for reasons beyond her looks. In fact I find that interpretation interesting. But both examples hurt the narrative of Otto being a man who doesn’t care about outer beauty, even before you get to the fact that in Superior he was oggling and actively trying to fucking rape Mary Jane! What exactly about her  ‘inner beauty’ led to him doing this?

Then of course you have his relationship with Aunt May which has been treated as genuinely romantic when it’s very unlikely to be that.

The truth is Doc Ock has been inconsistently written over the decades so pinning down that he’s a man who doesn’t care about a woman’s outer beauty in regards to his feelings for them is extremely iffy.

His dynamic with Stunner and Gage’s assessment is even iffier as the pages detailing his ‘courting’ of her prior to her becoming empowered can definitely be interpreted as him actively manipulating her for his own ends. He needed a test subject for his technology, a technology he was hoping could essentially ensure he’d live beyond the demise of his mortal body and mind (which obviously happened in Superior). Angela was that test subject, he either came across or scouted her out with the explicit intention of having her use his machine. 

Because we only get brief flashes of their relationship it’s unclear if he was 100% decieving and manipulating her (as he was to Anna Maria and Mary Jane) or if he was sincere in his affections, at least on some level. Maybe he even started out manipulating her but grew to genuinely care for her before or after her transformation into Stunner.

My point is it’s not this grand moral victory for Otto that he cared for Angela even though she was overweight.

Which brings me to the most damning thing about Gage’s comments.

According to him Otto is better than Peter because Otto didn’t date supermodels or sexy cat burglars.

Much like all his work with Otto before and during his Superior run, Gage practically wanks off the character.

You see Otto is ‘different. He’s not like ‘those other guys’, or more specifically ‘that Peter Parker guy’. HE doesn’t date supermodels or sexy cat burglars. 

He just keeps the sexy cat burglars as his ‘guests’ that he won’t let leave his lair, will date by deception and attempt to rape the supermodels and will probably manipulate vulnerable overweight women for his own selfish scientific pursuits and date them sincerely once they’ve transformed into wrestling divas.

Of course in reality, romantic and sexual attraction is something none of us can help and we are going to feel about whoever however we’re going to feel, and the harsh truth is a lot (but not all) of the time outer appearences do matter, or at least they do when it comes to initial attractions. Often in healthy relationships they matter less as time goes by, but are rarely totally irrelevant. Nobody, of any sex, gender or sexuality, is shallow for on some level taking looks into account for how they feel about a romantic or sexual partner, at least on some level.

In Peter’s case Gage’s assessment (which synchs up with Slott’s) of him as shallow is so asinine because he clearly doesn’t just care about looks. In fact semi-famously in the classic Romita stories his initial attraction for Mary Jane fades after he (incorrectly, and unfairly) starts to view her as shallow and little more than her looks.

No doubt about it that chicks’s as pretty as a pumpkin seed...and just about as shallow.

ASM #45*

Peter late of course dumps  Black Cat in part because she doesn’t love him for who he is, and only cares about him as Spider-Man. He wants someone who will share a life with him, whom he can connect with. If he was only interested in her because she was sexy why would he do that?

And of course this is to say nothing of the absolute denigration Gage’s comments pay to both MJ and her relationship with Peter.

I’ve felt this way for awhile now but to be blunt, if a writer ever just sums up MJ as a ‘supermodel’ I’m going to presume they either don’t understand her character and/or hold some messed up opinions. Putting aside how MJ hasn’t a model (super or otherwise) for most of her history it’s just messed up that everything else about her is dismissed in favour of pushing that profession and treating it as a summation of who she is as a character.** 

Because whenever creators or characters sum up MJ as a supermodel what they really mean is ‘she’s just a shallow, pretty face’.  Which is so facepalm worthy ironic because the crux of Mary Jane’s entire character since The Death of Gwen Stacy in 1973  has been that people THINK she is just a shallow pretty face but she in fact absolutely isn’t!

And aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the stuff that is relevant to why she isn’t is literally the reason Spider-Man fell in love with her in the first place. All the guilt, regret, insecurities, bravery, sense of responsibility and inner strength that subverted what we thought we knew about her, that’s the shit that her and Spider-Man’s romance is built upon. 

How the fuck does anyone miss that! It’s not even like you need to read deeply to see it, just read a Wikipedia entry!

It isn’t the crux of Felicia’s character, but the same applies to her. What jackass in this day and age (or indeed since the 1980s) honestly thinks Black Cat is nothing but sex appeal? There is an entire goddam Black Cat ongoing series demonstrating she is more than that! Gage is a goddam relic at this point!

On the flipside of course is poor Anna Maria.

Once upon a time Anna Maria was the best character in Spider-Man. Back in the dark days of 2013 and 2014 when Superior was going strong, MJ was out of the picture and the best Spider-Man books on the stand were about a kid replacing a dead AU Peter Parker and Peter Parker’s clone, Anna Maria was a stand out.

A new character with a personality, likable, a new love interest for ‘Spider-Man’ that on paper made a certain amount of sense even though the circumstances were disgusting. And on top of that she provided a dash of representation that was handled in an appropriate way.

As time went by she gradually devolved as a character and went way off the rails to the point where now she’s being a misogynistic asshole to other women by judging them for their looks. It’s so fucked up because she herself has been judged for her looks, just in a very different way whilst the likes of those ‘shallow’ women she cites have never said a bad word to her or to my knowledge anyone else on the basis of how they were born. 

Good job Gage, this is probably the last time we’re going to see Anna Maria and you’ve fully transitioned me from a guy who kind of wanted her to stick around in some capacity as a regular supporting player for Peter into a guy who would be delighted for her to forgotten and never appear again. 

Fuck Gage.

Fuck Superior

Fuck the entire asinine, mishandled, clusterfuck of an era that outstayed it’s welcome circa December 2012!

*In fairness he does bring up he might just be thinking ill of MJ because he’s upset about other things. See, THAT is a more even handed and on point depiction of Peter Parker being flawed. But Stan Lee being a better writer than Gage or Slott shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.

**Not to mention ‘supermodel’ shouldn’t even be used as shorthand for ‘shallow person’ in the first place. Are supermodels not people too? Are they incapable of being intelligent or having worth outside of their looks? I mean FFS we live in a world where this (starting at 3:37) really happened:

[luked4nuke]

If, I were President of the United States. (I just wanna state I’m not a democrat or republican)

First I’d enforce Quarantine and extend it. I’d also attend the poorest families or individuals first and provide them with the financial assistance they need. People are struggling hard enough as it is living paycheck to paycheck.

Second I’d shut down the schools as I believe safty more important especially for the future kids who will rule this place. I also don’t like how schools give so much homework and stress. They just condition kids into beleiving working 40 hours a week is normal and that you should be lucky to have weekends. Staying in classes all day then returning home only to be forced to complete more homework that takes up time and robs them of social interactions. These schools don’t even test knowledge. They test obedience and reward them for being quiet little slaves that will slowly become a “regular worker.” They really don’t care about how smart you are, they test memory over all else, when they study a subject and pass the test they move on quickly to the next one stressing them out. If they failed the test, to bad they’re still moving on with you. (Sorry this got way of topic. I just hate how schools operate and also how low they pay the teachers)

Third I would dismantle the police force and create a new one. A better one that focuses on real problems like sex trafficking and drugs. All the horrible crimes that are allowed to fly under the radar. Any excessive use of force would be heavily punished. Fired, fined and jail time. No shooting at peaceful protesters, seriously dafaq is wrong with them unleashing hell upon unarmed civilians and sneaking in rioters to escalate it to justify the force.

Fourth, gold is a finite resource. Pretty much all the money you’ve ever spent is fake, all digital backed by nothing. Personally I hate it but you’ve all becomes achstomed to it so I would attempt to fix the economy so people can afford essential things, like homes and food. Instead of kicking out homeless people Id build shelters. They make it to easy to fall down into poverty and nearly impossible to climb back up. Once you’ve been arrested, once you’ve been homeless, you understand the struggle of trying to reintergrate with society. The easiest path become the dark one. I would attempt to control the population, America is a gigantic habitat and likewise it has a carrying capacity. If you’re gonna argue people have to pay unreasonable amounts of money for food you’re crazy.

Immigrants are definitely allowed as long as they follow the rules and don’t commit crimes. America was litterally founded on immigrants. American stole land from the natives violently and even managed to capture Hawaii, which was its own nation. They taxed us and recognized us as a small power. Iolani Palace has electricity flush toilets and even phones before the White House did. Queen Lili’uokalani signed in duress. It horrible and sheforfeited her whole kingdom in exchange for the people, as a leader should. The people make a country, the government already should put the people first. Without all the hardworking Americans working, there is no country.

We don’t serve the government. As a government worker we serve the people. It’s our duty to ensure everybody is treated fairly. To make sure everybody that we oversee has the essentials for life, a home and food.

And for LGBT rights. I personally don’t care what the heck they do. Love is love, let it be. They can chose to identify as whoever they want and pursue relationships with whoever. You can’t force things onto people. America is supposed to be freedom personified, we can chose to do as we please as long as we don’t bring harm to others. Those camps are wrong. America is also religion free, you can be whatever you want, Christian Muslim, litterally anything. Being a satanist is totally legal as long as you don’t hurt anything. Believe in what you want and don’t force it on others. Gay people are amazing! We all are, were all human and we can change and create change. We are all human at the core and we always have been. We have a right to love, and to be loved by all around us. Love is love, let it be, theres always been love. I can identify as a man or woman, and I can damn well love either as I please as long it’s reciprocated. I’d always rather say I love you too much then not enough.

Climate change is real. The pollution of those stupidly large companies is also VERY real. As an individual you contribute less than a percent of the actual pollution, it’s literally the big corporations. That needs to stop. I’m not exactly sure how but I AM GOING to start a wave of change that will benefit the worlds health. We all live here. This is not political, I don’t have time for games, scientists that have studied their whole lives are begging for us to change. We can all have solar electricity farms and then it’d be FREE. “But you can’t charge people for that you can’t make money.” I’m NOT TRYING TO MAKE MONEY I DO NOT CARE ANOUT MONEY. IM AIMING FOR SOMETHING BIGGER THAN GREED THE BETTERMENT OF HUMANITY. I don’t care about ruining electric companies and other random fossil fuels bullshits that will run out, I want the future to be bright!

Screw it im going off the rails, schools main courses should focus on stuff like self sustainment, like farming and wilderness survival. Creativity because that’s the most human thing about us! Empathy basic Psychology. Kids can get mad they should learn and understand why. Understand why they feel the feelings they feel and giving them all better emotional control. EMPATHY. They need to learn things like taxes since they’re such a big part. Also why the heck are taxes so complicated. It’s just targeting the illiterate foreigners and immigrants who struggle and try to understand it and I believe that’s horrible. Make it easier to become apart of America the land of freedom and the getaway from the crueler areas of earth. Maybe just limit the population. Also seriously fuck off with taxes! Why the hell are you charging and taxing 14 year olds that aren’t allowed to vote, thats taxation without representation.

Taxes should be like Mario kart and Ancient Greece. Quote from some thing I googled

“The philosopher Aristotle developed the theme. His "magnificent man" gave vast sums to the community. But poor men could never be "magnificent" because they did not have the financial means. True wealth consists in doing good, Aristotle argued in the Art of Rhetoric: in handing out money and gifts, and helping others to maintain an existence.

The idea is simple the higher up you are on the financial ladder the more you have to pay taxes and contribute to society. The large taxes from the rich help fund financial aid for the poor and stuff. The rich did not earn that money they climbed to top on top a mountain of millions of shortcuts and underpaid workers It should be an honor to be taxed and help the poor people survive. Like in Mario kart, the higher you’re placed the harder it is to maintain it and the last place people always get the better power ups giving them a constant fighting chance. At most I believe wealth should be hoarded to sustain like one generation of kids, two at the most. Maybe three but theres no reason anybody should have all that money that your never going to spend or all that money that becomes worthless once a war or breaks out or aliens attack or something. Life is more important than money. Something simple everyone should consider.

I think everybody should be able to pursue a career and each career should be sustainable. Enjoyment in a job of your choosing without worrying about financial burden. Jobs would be divided into smaller simple groups and the pay would based on their contribution to society. Like doctors getting paid more and getting teachers paid more, but small retailers wouldn’t get paid as much but they could survive not living paycheck to paycheck. The motivation is everybody should free to pursue the hobby they love without being punished. Maybe little Timmy doesn’t want to be a firefighter, maybe he desires a simple fun life selling flowers. That’s fine! Maybe they don’t wanna become the hero but it’ll be an honor to society. As long as you have a job that contributes to society you can live for free. If everybody is constantly trying to make the most profit, then we all become a bucket of crabs dragging each other down. I can’t sell my $10 good that costed me $2 to make. Also the whole buy back thing irritates me, I spent $60 on this goddamn game and GameStop can only give me like $10 in store credit or $5 in real life? That’s isn’t fair and that applies to pretty much everything. That’s $1000 phone you bought is barley worth $357 right now. I’m pretty sure it didn’t cost that much to make these things but like DAMN. Capitalism sucks.

In summary, I don’t know much about politics but I would be the human party. I don’t care about left or right. I’m the one that doesn’t care about money. I care more about life and creativity. Peoples right to enjoyment and living a happy life with others regardless of gender. Survival of the human race and advancement into the future where more things are free and we can constantly focus on creating an even BETTER one. We can’t go anywhere without each other especially if we’re all just a bucket of crabs. To greedy and self destructive constantly looking out only for themselves. Seriously get your act together humans before you kickstart your own downfall. If we’re all trying to make a profit, nobody does. The best things in life are free. You can pursue wealth for your future or you can focus and live and enjoy and love the now. Mario kart style, where all in this race for life and we all deserve a winning chance.

[thelightofthebane]

To be or not to be cursed

Summary: “You broke up with me, but in the end, you are going to come back to me. Because I’m the only one who can love you, darling.” 

He wanted to throw up. Even a pure word like love sounded painful coming from Camille. He felt so dizzy, he barely noticed when she finally left him alone.

Always alone.

Pairing: Magnus Bane/Alexander Lightwood

Tags: Alternate Universe, Human AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Prom, past toxic relationship, Alec doesn't give a shit about Camille, Alec is a tactician, Izzy and Jace are the best siblings, Emotionally Hurt Magnus Bane, Angst with a Happy Ending

I hope you like this and it makes you smile, @magnuslightwoodalecbane

You can also read here: ao3

_______________________________________

Magnus was proud of himself. The gym was so beautifully arranged, it certainly would be the most amazing prom NY Institute High has ever had. Being in the Student Council had its perks, one of them claiming beforehand the leadership of the Party Organization Committee. Alongside Maia, Lily, Clary, Simon, and Meliorn, they arranged the entire gym with all the beautiful flowers, colorful lights, pictures, masks. The playlist was carefully created and the food and drinks picked with the utmost delight.

The entire school only talked about the prom and everyone was excited. Teenagers rushed every day to invite partners with the hopes of getting the best date. This was something Magnus was pretty looking forward to. He was popular, had the good graces of most of the students and professors. Even other school’s staff members adored Magnus Bane.

However, until the prom eve, nobody asked him to be their date.

To say he was disappointed was an understatement.

Two days before, he even dared to take matters into his hands and bolded asked a boy from another class. He was rejected.

Then, he tried a girl from another year and got the same answer. Sometimes, when he turned and just looked at someone, they would run away.

He felt cursed.

“Why, darling? Having problems to get a date?” A feminine voice called and he trembled, feeling something terrible crawl under his skin. Camille.

“What do you want?” He growled, forcing himself to look at her. The same vicious lip-tint smile, predator eyes and six-inch heels that only existed to step onto someone.

She smiled dangerously and approached her ex-boyfriend, resting a well-manicured hand on his face. Magnus slapped it, backing slightly to keep a safe distance.

“Poor little thing,” her smirk only grew, unbashful, toxic. “I told you once. Nobody would ever date you. Bang you? Perhaps, you are a good sex toy. But date you? You are too much for anyone, Magnus Bane.”

Magnus clenched his jaw, using each drop of self-restraint to not show how her words still hurt him. He was almost sure he wasn’t doing a good job.

“You broke up with me, but in the end, you are going to come back to me. Because I’m the only one who can love you, darling.”

He wanted to throw up. Even a pure word like love sounded painful coming from Camille. He felt so dizzy, he barely noticed when she finally left him alone.

Always alone.

~*~

Soon, he found out the problem thanks to his best friends, Catarina and Ragnor. Camille threated the entire school – whoever tried to go to the prom with Magnus would know hell. Being one of the most popular of the school and coming from a very rich and influential family, nobody dared to go against her. There was a rumor that one freshman even went to the hospital after a mysterious food poison.

Sighing hopelessly, Magnus accepted that he would have to go alone to his last high school party.

Or not.

On the day of said party, before going home to take a bath and prepare himself, he went to the Student Council classroom to put back some props, when something caught his eyes. On the desk he usually used during meetings, there were a small jasmine flower and a card.

- Wanna be my date? Wait for me at 8PM?

A. L. -

Magnus’ hands trembled so much, the card fell. His head automatically snapped towards the main desk in the room. The desk of the tall, dark and handsome Council’s president. Alexander Lightwood.

For a long time, Magnus had a big crush on him, even attempted some flirtation, but he always thought it was unilateral. Moreover, he was sure Alec didn’t like parties, and a few days ago overheard him telling his brother Jace he wasn’t interested in the prom. Then… Why?

Maybe it was a prank? But… that calligraphy… it was Alexander’s.

He breathed deeply. Well, just one way to know.

~*~

At 8pm, his doorbell ringed. Slightly apprehensive, Magnus – who was already ready with a burgundy tuxedo, hair stylized with gold strikes and the most gorgeous combination of eyeliner and gold eye shadow – opened the front door.

For his surprise, and blissfully happiness, it was indeed Alexander. He was wearing a dark suit with a navy blue bowtie and was carrying a jasmine bouquet.

“Wow,” his jaw dropped a little bit as soon as he scanned Magnus from head to toe, and Magnus giggled, happier than before. “Er… I… You… This… You… For…” He babbled, confused, not knowing if he looked at Magnus or extended the bouquet for him.

Magnus decided to save the poor boy and took the bouquet. “Thank you, darling. They are beautiful, just like you.” He winked to Alec, not missing the shy smile with a glinting of something more in those mesmerizing hazel eyes.

“Yeah, hm. Let’s go, then?” Alec waved towards his car and Magnus nodded, feeling his heart becoming fuller by the minute.

~*~

“So, didn’t you hear about Camille’s threat or Alexander Lightwood is a man of dangerous adventures?” Magnus broke the comforting silence inside the car while Alec drove to their school.

“Eh… I heard about it, and I don’t really care about her. I have more important things to worry about than her pettiness.”

“Like what?”

“Your happiness,” Alec said without wasting any second, as if the answer was too obvious, an unbreakable truth.

Magnus Bane wasn’t one to blush, but he definitely felt his cheeks hotter than usual. His heart thumped so loud inside his chest, he almost asked Alec to turn on the radio to avoid being heard, if that was possible.

“I thought you didn’t like parties and wasn’t going to this one.”

“Yeah, I mean. My siblings would have dragged me anyway. I wanted to invite you as my date, but I figured out you would have a long queue of suitors waiting to go with you, and then I wouldn’t have the slightest chance. When I heard nobody had asked you, I thought it was some kind of lucky or someone above telling me I could have a chance after all. I took the opportunity and here we are.” Alec smiled so widely now, Magnus felt his heart would certainly break his ribs.

“Also,” he continued, unwavering. “Camille can’t hurt me. We just have a couple of months before finishing high school, and then everyone will go their separate ways. If I get lucky, I will be on the other side of the United States and she won’t get near me.”

“Oh, what university did you choose?”

~*~

When they arrived at NY Institute High, they were already immersed in a pleasuring conversation. Even if they’ve already known each other a bit thanks to the weekly Student Council meetings, they never had the chance to talk alone and to get to know the other better. They find out they shared a lot of common likings, even if their lifestyles were so different. They had a similar sense of humor and wits, and the best part: they applied to the same university.

Everything seemed perfect and both were smiling and laughing at the time they entered the gym, where the music was already playing and people were chatting and dancing.

Until a bucket with water and a lot of ice fell from above directly onto Alec. The music paused and a heavy silence filled the space.

Alec shivered from the cold and even coughed a bit. Magnus panicked, not knowing what to do first, but soon got himself together and took his handkerchief to at least dry Alec’s face.

“Well, well, well. What a pleasure. It seems we got your type, Magnus. A wet boy ready to be touched by you.” Camille teased, approaching them with a sly smile. Magnus glared at her but said nothing.

“You really are despicable,” Alec said instead, then turned to Magnus. “I’ll be back.”

And he was gone.

~*~

After the little show Camille presented, everyone resumed their own things. The music started again and the chats got louder. Magnus drank four entire glasses of fruit punch – which he was slightly sure someone had already dropped alcohol there – and sighed, upset. That was it. Alexander wasn’t going to come back and he lost him for good.

Damn Camille and her nightmarish existence.

He was really cursed.

“Hey.” A gentle voice called him, but the surprise almost made him drop his now empty glass. It was Alexander. He came back. “Sorry for taking so long. I had a problem with one of the buttons.” He frowned, wrinkling his nose. He was wearing a dark green button-up shirt and dark jeans, his hair a little bit damped. Still gorgeous. Very, very gorgeous.

“No, that’s… That’s okay.” I’m just happy you didn’t leave. Magnus thought, biting his lower lip. “But how…” He waved towards the new clothes, and Alec playfully grinned.

“Earlier, I brought this and put inside my locket. When I heard about Camille’s threat, my siblings and I sat for a whole hour discussing what she could probably do against me. Izzy suggested something with water and prompted me to leave here some spare clothes, just to be sure. That was the only suit I had, but if you’re okay having me like this, I’m okay too.”

“I’m more than okay.” Magnus grinned too, almost not believing in the existence of such a man. He prepared backup plans for Camille’s attack. What he did to deserve such a wonderful date?

“Right, c’mon then.” He offered his hand to Magnus and then guided him to the dance floor.

~*~

Camille tried some things to blow up Magnus and Alec’s night. Some of the things included hurting them physically and even trying to humiliate Alec, outing his sexuality for the entire school. Not that it was a secret, but he never went out there saying ‘Hello, I’m Alec and I’m gay.’ Only his friends knew it, and now all the school knew it. Each attempt against Alec made Magnus angrier at Camille and extremely worried that Alec would snap and think Magnus wasn’t worth all of that. After all, he was too much, right?

However, each time Alec would reassure him it was alright and he wasn’t going anywhere.

When the king and the queen of the night were announced, and to nobody’s surprise Camille being the queen, Magnus tried to pull Alec to outside so they wouldn’t have to watch that horror show. Alec, however, stopped Magnus and signaled for them to stay and watch the coronation.

As soon as the crown was put on Camille’s head, an almost imperceptible powder fell on her and she started to scratch all over her body. All the students started to laugh while she screamed and cursed everyone.

“You know… Izzy is still in the first year, but she wants to go to Med school and become a pathologist. One of her favorite hobbies is messing with some substances. Have I told you how she has a big pot of itching powder? I miiiight have entertained her the idea of using a little bit tonight.” Alec pretended to see something very interesting on the ceiling, trying not to laugh. “She even said that I am the best big brother in the world for letting her. Jace was really pissed.”

At that, Magnus laughed.

~*~

The prom wasn’t perfect as Magnus had expected with so many disastrous things happening, but somehow it was everything he needed. People had fun, so that’s that. Camille didn’t bother them for the rest of the night, but being part of the Party Organization Committee, he still had some responsibilities to supervise.

In the end, when everyone went home, the music stopped and the lights were all on, dissipating the prom’s magic, he still lingered a little bit behind to make sure there weren’t any major problems. The next day he would have to deal with the cleaning, but this was another issue and he didn’t want to think about that now. Not when his date was still there with him, checking something on his phone while waiting for Magnus.

“Everything is in order, Mr. President. We can go home now.” Magnus smiled sweetly, approaching Alec. He was gifted with another beaming smile from him, and for a moment Magnus thought his knees would finally give out.

“Actually, there is still one last thing we should do.”

“Oh? What is it?”

Alec didn’t waste time and after grabbing Magnus’ hand, pulled him towards the gym’s center.

“Would you give me the pleasure of one last dance, Mr. Bane?”

There wasn’t any music anymore, but they didn’t need one.

“Of course, Mr. President.” Magnus didn’t think twice and both engaged in a slow and sweet dance, the closest from each other as their bodies would let them.

Magnus didn’t know if it was possible to get happier. And maybe, maybe, fall a bit more in love with his tall and gorgeous date.

He also didn’t know how much time passed, but one minute their bodies were pressed, and in another, their lips were pressed.

They kissed tenderly.

Wistfully.

Hotly.

Desperately.

Magnus thought that yes, it was possible to fall more in love.

And that he wasn’t cursed after all.

[weaselle]

Money Talk

Imagine a drug dealer. He lives with 20 people - a cook, a bar tender, a massage therapist, a person who sells clothes, etc. Every month, they all give him money for drugs. And every month he spends that money on food, liquor, massages, clothes, etc.

The money in this example is a medium of exchange, which is the whole purpose of money. You can imagine it like a tide, washing back and forth between the dealer and the other people, lubricating a cooperative system of exchange and mutualism.

BUT. I used a drug dealer on purpose. Clearly the drug dealer has an unfair advantage. But wait. The food person has one too. And so does whoever they pay rent to. Not to mention the doctor.

Now, some people will say that if you introduce competition, “the market” will balance itself. In other words, if there are ten food vendors and ten doctors and ten landlords etc, if one of them is taking advantage of people, the public will choose to do business with a different provider instead. Let me tell you why that doesn’t work.

Perpetual systems are extremely rare - most systems (all, on a long enough time scale) tend toward entropy; they want to fall apart. That’s what makes balanced ecosystems such treasures. And you can’t achieve a balanced ecosystem if you make “the market” an entity by giving it agency. Everything in a balanced ecosystem has to survive, but “the market” does not have to survive, it is not a true participant, therefore you cannot give it agency and you especially cannot give it responsibility for the livelihood of people and the health of the planet. Yes theoretically “the market” is the will of the people, because it represents people’s choices, but those choices are not free. If the cost of raising a child and running a household is a struggle for a large number of families, then they are going to give their money to the cheapest food vendor, for the good of their children, and the cheapest things are always achieved by means we are against. Like slavery, land theft, economic extortion, militant international fuckery, tax evasion, and fucking up the environment just to name a few.

The market is just the medium of exchange. The money is just the lube, not one of the people having sex.

SO. If instead of a drug dealer and his village of twenty we look at a bigger picture, we can substitute concepts for the people. Not a cook, but a food industry, not a landlord, but the system of landlordship, not massage but the service industry, not a clothes vendor, but the textile and fashion industries.

Now it IS true that the market drives certain kinds of development (so does war but we don’t want that). For example entertainment industries are always innovating and developing into greater things fairly quickly. And we do want a certain amount of competitive growth availability. So let’s keep some capitalism. Let’s just tame it, domesticate it. And you do that by removing it’s ability to kill people.

That means, there has to be food available. It has to be reasonable food sufficient to keep one healthy. There has to be good healthcare. There has to be housing, and clothing, and education and access to information, because these things are all necessary to live in our society. THEN you can have a robust market on top of that.

So, for example, nutrition is provided. Rice and beans form a complex protein, you can flavor it a whole lot of different ways, add a couple kinds of veggies and/or some vitamin supplements, include some basic alternatives for people with stricter dietary requirements, and now nobody is starving. NOW you can let the market decide how much other food costs, because people are truly free to choose to not eat it. But they WANT to eat it, people are going to want avocados and steaks and things, they just won’t be at the market’s mercy for their survival. That’s balance.

When you apply that across the range of human requirement, you get the best of both worlds -- a morally just capitalism with competition driven advances, as well as freedom of choice for consumers and freedom of risk for innovators: a person with an idea for a new style of music or a new kind of energy production can afford to stay in their room all day working on that instead of needing a job for survival. But if they want more than basics, if they want steak, if they want clothes that aren’t government issued jumpsuits, they’ll need to earn some money.

Also, the market will be FREER. Because ALL money will be spendable. You can literally spend your last dollar on whatever it is you want, because that choice will never result in you living on the street or starving.

For these same reasons, this concept fosters entrepreneurship: because the public’s money is all available for spending on any new goods or services and people are free to take risks -- such as quitting their job and trying to start their own business, or spending all their money on inventory they’re trying to sell, or al their time on developing an invention they have an idea for.  

Taxes are one way to acheive this, and I am all for progressive tax rates and other tax reformations. But I also have another idea.

Let’s move the majority of landlordship over to public control, administered by elected officials and held in trust for the public it houses.

So right now, cities are funded largely through property tax. Which is about 2% of the value of the property. Let’s say you buy a house for a little over 100k (for easy math). Your monthly payment comes out to over 6,000 a year. Your property tax is about 2,000 a year. Plus, those monthly payments over 30 years actually come out to twice the original amount, which means you actually pay the bank 200k for your 100k house. And that’s not even getting into renting and slumlords and everything.

But what if the city was leasing all the housing directly to the public?

So, say you have a city of a hundred thousand people (again for easy math). That’s about one tenth the size of San Francisco. For math’s sake, lets assign a value of 120 thousand to each property and make each house one bedroom one bath. People are paying about $600 a month to live in those houses, rent or mortgage. And under the current system, the city gets about $200 each every month also. So the city gets $240 million each year to provide education, pave roads, and deal with things like homelessness. BUT. If the public was the landlord of the city, with the property administered in trust, then the full monthly payment would go directly to the city. So the city could keep the housing cost at 600 a month, drop the tax (saving each person 200 a month) and STILL have $720 million to use on providing for it’s public.

To review. In the above situation under the current system, the city gets 240 million to provide for the public, and the public pays $800 a month in housing costs. Under the new system, the city gets 720 million and the public pays $600 a month in housing costs.

The extra 720 million comes mostly out of the pockets of big banks, who already have all our money all the time anyway. Who, let me remind you, already went bankrupt and got bailed out with our tax money.

If the city has enough people and they do it right, they might be able to provide all those basics for their public: food, shelter, clothing, education access to information, and healthcare. If they can do THAT, entrepreneurship will flourish there, because people will be free to take risks, and all money will be spendable.

In this way, housing is provided, and as discussed at the top of this post, housing is one of the things that confers an immorality when presided over solely by private entities, just like food and healthcare -- because we need those things to live

Doesn’t have to be a city, could be a county or a state. But also, doesn’t have to be the whole country changing all at once - single cities can institute this all by themselves without exiting the countries capitalistic system in any way.

Cities can use local eminent domain to buy the properties; that way current owners get a one time buyout to exit landlordship with wealth in their pocket: fair value for their property. More cities might copy once it shows to be successful. Once popular enough the federal government could “buy” cities and turn them over to the local government (where elections are more involved, your single vote carries more weight, etc). After all, if the cities (or counties, or even whole states?) can pay for their own streets, their own healthcare, and their own education, etc, the federal government is less complicated and cumbersome, needs less money, can be streamlined and made more efficient and targeted.

Just one of the concepts I’m working with trying to find a path to the positive change we need so badly. Catch me on another post explaining my other solutions, which function independently but are designed to also work together.

[yacshij]

Hello, I’m Lumi!!! Let’s just take a moment to watch this attempt of an introduction get super awkward because it has been literally years since I’ve done this. hOWEVER, I am super excited to be here and present my child to you. I’ll probably have a bio or something of the sort up for him soon, but let’s be realistic, i’m slow, so who knows when soon’s gonna be... for the time being, I’m gonna leave some info on him under the cut, also a few ideas of wanted connections and such. If you’d like to plot, feel free to hit me up or like this and I’ll come to you as soon as I see it!

( zhang yixing, cismale, he/his ) — Welcome back, SHI YAO. I’m surprised you’re still a FIELD AGENT! Congrats! You’re TWENTY-SEVEN years old? Our agents usually don’t last that long! :O I see you’ve been given an IRISH SETTER. Funny how it seems they work harder than you! Can’t wait for another lovely day of you being PATIENT. Though, if we’re being honest, we really know you’re more SECRETIVE. Welp, have a good at work, Agent JONQUIL. I really don’t care! I’m a robot, I have no feelings. ( lumi, 23, gmt-3, she/her ) 

BACKSTORY

Yao doesn’t know his biological parents. Why they didn’t keep him, is anyone’s guess; he never had anyone who knew about what really happened, no family whatsoever to tell him anything about where he’d come from and why he’d end up somewhere so fucked up. 

He was raised by a man he always took for his grandfather. A compulsive drinker and gambler, a man who was always involved in some kind of trouble. His childhood wasn’t the brightest, that being so, he didn’t have the best education and they were always jumping around the country, running away from debt collectors and the law. Or trying to, at least. 

At this point, his life was nothing but a big lie. With them moving around so much came the need of fabricated stories and a lot of pretending to sustain them. Every month they were someone different and had a different background. Even though with time Yao got really good at the whole pretending thing, he also realized there was never room for a real him. 

When he was 16, however, things took an ugly turn. After a few years of successfuly dodging their pursuers, they came to a point where there was no running away anymore. His grandfather knowing this, gave Yao all the money they had left, a passport, a backpack and a name. It was the end of the line for him, but for Yao, it could be his chance of getting out of that life and maybe do something good with it. 

Yao ended up in Seoul, Korea, at the front door of a lady he’d never seen or heard anything of. She took him in as if he was her own son, however, as if she’d known him her whole life; she gave him a bed to sleep, food to eat, clean clothes and a place that quickly started to feel a lot like home. She became a mother to him. He finally got the chance to properly go to school and have a decent part-time job, to have friends; he finally had the chance to figure out things for himself, to figure out who he was. A fresh new start, just for him. 

Just a couple of years after, when he was about to turn 19, he was approached by Hwarang to join the organization, and he accepted because it seemed like a good turn of events, considering everything. (he doesn’t know it, but his mother was a former hwarang member. and also the lady who practically adopted him, and she knew his mother. so he received the offer probably just because of her. but will he ever know abou this. who knows.)

After joining the organization, he made it his life. He was very devoted to his training and did the most, you know, not to suck and lose the opportunity. At first he didn’t know how to feel about the whole idea, but nowadays he’s very passionate and committed to the job. 

Outside Hwarang he leads a pretty normal life, lives in a small apartment with his Irish Setter, her name is Eva and she’s the most precious and important thing to him (and to me). 

PERSONALITY

Yao is very eloquent, and although quiet in nature, he’s not shy. It takes a lot to get on his nerves and you better not get on his nerves, because it doesn’t get pretty when he’s angry. He doesn’t like confrontation or anything like that, but he doesn’t let people talk shit to him, if he needs to stand up for himself (or someone he knows and cares about) he will. 

He doesn’t trust people. It comes without a surprise, I’d say. He grew up around people that were always sidestepping certain subjects whenever he asked about, people who never told the truth, people who lied to get what they wanted, etc. Even though he knows there are good, true people out there, he just can’t fully trust. He’s very insecure about this, actually, that people are always hiding something, or pretending to like him for whatever reason; it never feels real. My poor insecure child.  

Speaking of hiding. Yao doesn’t talk about his past. He doesn’t talk about his life in general; that doesn’t apply just to co-workers or people he barely knows, it applies to friends too. And it also isn’t about him not wanting to talk about, it’s just that 1) he doesn’t often feel like he has anything interesting to share and 2) nobody asked, so he takes it as a hint that he probably shouldn’t tell.

Yao’s very observant and he pays attention to a lot. Even small details. He doesn’t tend to forget that easily, as well, so if somebody tells him their favorite ice cream flavor today, chances are he’ll remember even months later. Deep down, he makes the effort to remember because he likes to impress people with these little things. 

He’s a good shoulder to cry on, a good person to tell a secret to, to vent, a good person to tell all your embarrassing stuff, the best friend to call drunk at night, to share compromising stories/pictures, because he would never judge or spread anything about it. 

On that note, he hates gossip. Irrelevant, but throwing this info out there for whoever wants to know.

Also, Yao was born on January 10th, 1991. A whole Capricorn. And bisexual. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Gimme best friends. Wheter someone he’s known since training days or someone he met after graduating but became fast friends. OR BOTH. There’s always room for more than one best friend. 

I’d also love to have that unlikely friendship, where they’re so different in all aspects, but in some way ended up getting real close. Neither knows how it happened, but it’s not like they’re complaining. 

Someone that maybe isn’t actually a close friend, who he goes after to talk when he needs to get something out of his chest or just need the company until he feels better. Pretty vague, but basically someone that listens and understands without asking a lot of questions. Something like that. 

I would also love a flirtationship. 

A carnal relationship. It's just sex, it's always been just sex and it's always gonna be just sex. or will it 

Give me someone that actually gets on his nerves. Someone that seriously or just playfully enjoys irritating him, that likes to go against everything he says or anything of the sort. at this point i need this ajdhkeh i need this connection in my life. (it can also work for a friend. or enemies with benefits ~cof cof~anyone?~cofs~) 

An ex would also be nice. But I’m not gonna specify if they ended on good terms or bad terms, because that would be nice to develop depending on their personalities and dynamics, so if anyone’s interested, we can discuss it 

I know these are just a few and there’s probably a lot more that could be added here, but for now, I’m leaving at that. I know I was pretty vague with the connections as well, but it’s actually because this is just the very basic, I like to discuss it in more detail when we plot, in case anyone’s interested. We can brainstorm, mix two connections, come up with a new one that fits better for the muses, so no worries. come plot and there’s gonna be a lot of ideas for everyone!!!! 

[twinkledadwa]

Twinkledad’s #2

Dear Twinkledad,

Am I moving on too fast? I just got out of something super toxic... and not even 10 days later I’m hooking up with someone I just met. My ex really damaged me and I don’t know if I’m doing this to distract myself or if I’m really ready. I feel bad bc this new kid is very sweet and I don’t want to lead him on but also as of right now its just friends with benefits. also I’m talking to a old flame. I just feel lost and like I need a second opinion.

Anonymous.

 Dear Anonymous,  When I answered this question on air, I ran into a few technical difficulties with Serato. As a result, the first song had the audio quality of Never Meant earrape once it finally played. I hope it wasn’t too abrasive! Logan was a big fan of it, though.

 So. 

 Here at Twinkledad’s, we support healthy sex lives. The act of hooking up with someone, even right after a breakup, is completely okay. You have this freedom and it’s in your right to use it. Where you should be careful is your intent behind this FWB relationship. What are you getting out of it? Is it sex for the sake of sex, or are you reaching for something deeper?

 It is wholly possible you could be wanting the “emotional intimacy” often associated with relationship sex. That could be trouble for you and the other party involved.

 Toxic relationships, from common knowledge and experience, can leave a lot of emotional trauma. Now is the time for you to learn how to heal. Finding healthy coping mechanisms is a trial-and-error process. That is what essentially takes up most of the timetable for moving on; once it clicks, and you’ll know when, it’s a matter of days from then.

 The question could be, “am I trying to move on too fast?”.  Forcing yourself to move on, actively or subconsciously, does not allow you the respect you deserve. Applying what was previously said to your specific question, you could be ignorant to what your emotions need right now. Likewise, if your FWB or old flame are not on the same page as you, they could become more attached than you are. No one’s at fault for this. You’d be coping and that’s reasonable.

 You simply asked for a second opinion, and probably didn’t want this long of a response. To give an answer to your original question, yes, I believe you are. I know nothing beyond the question you’ve sent in, but I really wish you the best with everything.

 “Anniversary Song” was chosen for its subject matter. The entire album, Just Married, is a very bitter and real portrayal of breaking up, moving on, and dying angry. 

 “Heathers” is not only catchy, but (possibly) about a booty call. It is a fun introspection about staying up all night and needing someone to talk to.

Glocca Morra - Anniversary Song

Insignificant Other - Heathers

Dear Twinkledad,

How do I apologize to someone who doesn’t want to talk to me? Is there a way where I can apologize without it being self serving?

Anonymous.

Dear Anonymous,

 In essence, I feel like this is impossible.

 There’s nothing wrong with that. You should give your interests and the other person’s interests the same amount of respect. It is difficult when you have genuine regret over something and you can’t necessarily go across portraying that when the other person, reasonably so, is hurt/upset/any sentiment that results in them not wanting to talk to you. 

 Apologizing right now, in this situation, will realistically be seen as self serving. In Moral Philosophy we discussed the concept of psychological egoism. Egoism is pretty different from selfishness, as egoism is acting in one’s self interest with wisdom, charity, and kindness towards others. Common critique brings up the possibility that other interests (in this case, the feelings of the other person) could be prioritized and therefore egoism can’t be achieved. Yet a lot of classmates, including myself, argued for all actions being inherently self-interested. Apologizing to your person, how would you consider it? Are you apologizing because they are hurt, or because you miss them?

 That’s not to imply you don’t feel regret. We’re humans, philosophy was never meant to be taken as universal truth. It’s to suggest a possible answer on whether or not it would be self serving.

 I suggest waiting for them to reach out. They could not be fully over what happened, and that’s straight chilling. I’m sure they recognize how you feel. One point in the future will come a time where both of you are on the same page in the same book. 

 “Weird Dream, Conscious Stream” was chosen because A.) I Hate Sex is stellar and B.) suggests an impossible reality for the narrator where the subject and other coexist.

 “Do You Still Hate Me?” was chosen because of the title. According to Hugh, one of the best songs ever.

 “I’m Here for The Pizzah Partie” was an obvious choice. Very obvious. Glaringly obvious. Fact. It’s fact.

I Hate Sex - Weird Dream, Conscious Stream

Jawbreaker - Do You Still Hate Me?

Two Knights - I’m Here For The Pizzah Partie

Dear Twinkledad,

I’m becoming more aware of my sudden anger and sadness outbursts. but I’m scared to go and get checked out bc I don’t want to be drugged up or I guess Face the music.

Anonymous.

Anonymous,

 Let’s say you do get checked out. If you have a mental health diagnosis, good news! You have a mental “illness”. 

 Downside: you are stuck with this for the rest of your life. 

 Upside: you have all the time in the world to learn how to cope with it. 

 Getting checked out does not mean you’ll be drugged up. If you are of age, that’s entirely in your control. There are routes of dialectical behavior therapy (or just normal therapy) you can take. Nobody’s necessarily pro-medication in all situations. It’s hard not to have some ignorance of mental health problems if you don’t have the problem for sure. Take whatever path you feel best suits your needs. 

 We are not our diagnoses. However, it can be of great help to recognize your shitty behavioral ticks and understand why you have them. The start of your question implies you have been aware of specific behavior for some time now. With that, you have already begun to face the music. If you do decide to get checked out but give it a lot of time, a diagnosis could feel like a no-brainer to you. In fact, it could be a weight lifted.

  Misdiagnosis can happen. Wrong meds, taking the medication, can happen. It’s part of coping, it sucks major ass. Time will come where mental health can feel worse than ever and like it is inescapable. The important thing is keeping your head up. I really hope you find the answers you want and or need.

 I chose “As Cool As An Attempted Suicide”, beyond what the name suggests, for its energy. It’s a fun song for its subject matter. Being sad is not necessarily always bad.

 “Why Am I Not Going Under Water?”/Snowing as a whole was an emotional crutch for me when I went through similar struggles. Galm’s vulnerability made me realize I was not alone, and hopefully it does the same for you too.

Leer - As Cool As An Attempted Suicide

Snowing - Why Am I Not Going Underwater?

Dear Twinkledad,

I've never really been in a real relationship my whole life, haven't even lost my virginity. It bothers me more than it probably should, but I feel almost desperate for a more than just a platonic relationship with someone. Wanna be able to have somebody to kiss/cuddle but seem to screw up every opportunity to have something good with someone.

Anonymous.

  Anonymous,

  A few weeks ago, I matched with someone on Bumble. We had this conversation:

 “Heyy”

 “Sorry, my mom said I can’t talk to girls.”

 “Damn that’s crazy my dad said I can’t talk to boys *frowny face emoji*”

 Then I left her on Read. Point being, everything will be okay.

 Virginity is frustrating, in theory and in practice. It shouldn’t be a crime to not be sexually active or never had a serious relationship. Yes, love is great. However, one thing you’ll most likely learn when you experience love, because you will, is you can live without it. How we’ve constructed what virginity means has set pretty high expectations of what sex is like. In actuality, it’s pretty mediocre. Fun, but as you continue to open the bag of magic sex tricks, you’ll have plenty of mixed experiences. It is not a necessity by any means.

 Love, on the other hand, is uncomfortably tied to our values. For a lot of people, having a family is their primary goal in life. I’ve seen this referred to as “honorable” multiple times as multiple people. What it does, subsequently, is pressure people into viewing sex and love as an accomplishment the same virginity does. Falling in love is an awesome feeling. Falling out of love is a terrible feeling. Experiencing neither does not put such a great weight on your shoulders like love does. To quote Quarterbacks, “love is situational”. You’ll have it. No way in hell you haven’t. The situation has yet to arise.

 Dating apps are not worth it. Love is a feeling, right? There’s no need to force it. If you are relatively new in experience, your perception of love can be greatly skewed. I’m sure, whoever you are, you are in safe hands. You’ll be carried into the world of sex and love naturally, not at your own will, where it’s inevitably messier.

 Once YOU, not anyone else, are satisfied with your romantic life, please send a message back. I wish you the best of luck knowing you have it, and just want you to be happy.

 With a lot of music, worlds tend to be created through the instrumentals and not the lyrics. “Hardly Art” always forces a great sense of introspection and how I handle myself in situations of co dependence whenever it comes on.

 “Try to Sleep”’s vocals, lyrics, and stripped back, lo-fi production echoes loneliness from all fronts.

 Closer - Hardly Art

 Attic Abasement - Try To Sleep

[aridara]

So, apparently, @terfslurring​ didn’t like it when I called out her “Trans people reject the biological reality of sex and want to impose gender roles on everyone!” bullshit, and decided to write me some responses. By reblogging a completely different thread that wasn’t about trans people (it was about abortion), but whatever.

So I decided to answer them here.

First post: two quotes from Andrea Dworkin. Which have nothing to do with the argument at hand. Next.

Second post: A pamphlet about “How to spot MRA ideology”. Which basically tries to claim that Men’s Rights Activists and trans activist are somehow the same thing. Which is patently ridiculous.

For example, the first page claims that MRAs:

... Are anti-feminist. (True.)

...Focus on issues that, according to MRAs themselves, discriminate against men. (True in the sense that MRAs do claim that those issues discriminate against men; whether those issues actually discriminate against men or not is another issue entirely.)

...Often use the term “TERF” against feminists. (False. MRAs don’t care about whether feminists are against trans people or not.)

The second page claims that MRAs often label themselves “Trans Rights Activists”, or “TRA”. Which is completely and utterly false: the most cursory exploration of any MRA website (for example r/mensrights, A Voice For Men, Heartiste...) will show that MRAs are openly against trans people, frequently vilify them and declare them to be mentally ill, openly advocate in favor of forcibly institutionalizing trans people to “fix” them, etc.

There’s more lies in that pamphlet, like the lie that trans advocates deny the existence of sexism or the lie that TERFs do not claim that “trans women are violent predators, pedophiles and rapists”. But really, just the fact that the pamphlet tried to conflate a pro-trans group with a very anti-trans one is enough to dismiss it as total bullshit.

Third post... Oh, boy, I’ll need quotes for this.

Gender Critical Feminism

is a term used by those in the feminist community who consider gender a harmful social construct that is confused with -but distinct from -biological sex.

The World Health Organization defines gender as “the socially constructed roles, behaviours, activities, and attributes that a given society considers appropriate for men and women”.WHO: gender equity, human rights

Except that trans people are talking about gender identity, not gender roles.

Gender identity (which is what most people and especially trans people and advocates refer to when they say “gender”) is, by definition, self-determined. You decide the label of your own gender identity, and how to express yourself; nobody else can do it for you.

Gender role (which is what pretty much only trans-exclusionary feminists refer to when they say “gender”) is the idea that people should act in a certain way depending on what genitalia they have. By definition, you’re trying to tell other people what to do.

Trans advocates advocate in favor of letting everyone express their own gender identity however they want. TERFs falsely claim that trans advocates are in favor of imposing gender roles on everyone, whether they want it or not - which is the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of what trans advocates are doing.

Gender critical feminists believe the definition of “man” and the definition of “woman” should be based solely on biology, rather than on “masculine” or “feminine” personality traits or an innate sense of gender identity.

They recognize those with XX-chromosomes, ovaries designed to produce large egg cells, female genitalia, and a relatively high level of estrogen and progesterone as biologically female. They define “woman” as an adult human female.

They recognize those with XY-chromosomes, testes designed to produce small sperm cells, male genitalia, and a relatively high level of testosterone as biologically male. They define “man” as an adult human male.

Intersex people, who represent less than 0.02% of the entire population are those whose chromosomes, gonads, sex hormones, and genitals do not conform to the biological binary of female or male bodies. Gender critical feminists recognize intersex people as a distinct group of people with an empirically diagnosable medical condition.

Alright. So, as I’ve repeatedly stated, pretty much all transphobes do three things.

1. They claim that there’s only two separate human sexes (plus eventually a small amount of exceptions, tiny enough to be ignored). According to Terfslurring, “gender critical feminists” fit the bill.

2. They claim that sex must be determined by looking at specific sex-determining characteristics. Again: according to Terfslurring, “gender critical feminists” fit the bill - they look at chromosomes (XX versus XY), gonads (ovaries versus testicles), genitalia (I suppose vagina versus penis), and hormone levels (high estrogen + progesterone versus high testosterone).

3. They believe that making everyone determine everyone’s sex in the “correct” way (see the above) is VERY important. This is blatantly obvious - whenever goes against the “there’s only two separate sexes” claim (for example, by saying that sex is a spectrum), gender-critical feminists actively oppose that someone and claim that they’re wrong. Likewise, whenever someone goes against the “chromosomes/gonads/genitalia/hormones determine a person’s sex” claim (for example, by respecting a person’s chosen identity, regardless of their genitalia), gender-critical feminists actively oppose that someone and claim that they’re wrong.

So, here’s something fun that I want to point out: transphobes love to claim that their beliefs are absolutely correct and precise, and that whoever refuses to determine people’s sex in the “correct” way must necessarily be in the wrong.

This also applies to the transphobes themselves. They don’t get to viciously attack anyone who goes against the “there’s only two separate sexes” claim when THEY THEMSELVES go against that same claim.

For example, let’s take everyone on the planet and divide them like gender-critical feminists want me to.

Everyone who has XX chromosomes, ovaries, a vagina, an uterus, and high levels of estrogen and progesterone will go in the “FEMALE” box.

Everyone who has XY chromosomes, testicles, a penis, and high levels of testosterone will go in the “MALE” box.

Everyone else will go in the “EXCEPTIONS” box.

Here’s the problem: the exceptions are way, way, WAY more than 0,02% of the human population. So, I can’t ignore them.

But if I can’t ignore them, then I must accept that there aren’t just two separate human sexes.

And if I accept that there aren’t just two separate human sexes, gender-critical feminists will declare that I’m wrong.

Conclusion: according to gender-critical feminist theory, gender-critical feminist theory is wrong. So, I’ll throw it out.

Moving on.

“Cisgender”

The Oxford English Dictionary defines cisgender as “denoting or relating to a person whose self-identity conforms with the gender that corresponds to their biological sex; not transgender.

”Gender critical feminists object to the idea that their “self-identity” “conforms” with the feminine gender role they were assigned at birth. They reject their assigned gender traits and roles as a form of oppression, and do not “self-identify” with them at all.

This is more of that thing where trans advocates talk about gender identity, and gender-critical feminists talk about gender roles.

On the plus side, it means that gender-critical feminists have absolutely no argument against gender identity.

According to trans-inclusive feminists, being cisgendered means that biological women and girls have “cisgender privilege” which is defined as the “set of unearned advantages that individuals who identify as the gender they were assigned at birth accrue solely due to having a cisgender identity”.

Gender critical feminists do not believe that both being biologically female and knowing you are biologically female makes you a member of a privileged class. Nor do they believe males who identify as female are more oppressed than actual females.

What follows is a long list of statistics about issues that women face due to sexism. I’ll spare you, because I don’t actually object to those statistics.

What I do object to, is Terfslurring’s claim that transphobia - which is oppression from cis people (men or women) against trans people (men, women or otherwise) - doesn’t exist because sexism - which is oppression from men (cis or otherwise) against women (cis or otherwise) doesn’t exist. Which makes as much sense as claiming that racism doesn’t exist because sexism exists.

Likewise, Terfslurring is trying to imply that cis women can’t be transphobic towards trans women, because cis women are victims of sexism from men. Which makes as much sense as “white women can’t be racist towards black men, because cis women are victims of sexism from men”.

Then there’s a bunch of lies that aim to absolve TERFs from their transphobia. I’ll just give you the highlights.

Despite claims that “transwomen are women” gender critical feminists note that laws based on gender identity allow any predatory male to claim a female identity and gain access to vulnerable women in shelters, locker rooms, restrooms, and prisons. 

Except that those laws have NOT helped predatory males to gain access to vulnerable women. For example, the “If we let trans women in women’s bathroom, predatory men will assault women in bathrooms!” panic? A complete fabrication made from homophobic groups.

Lesbian feminist Janice Raymond is frequently accused of having “blood on her hands” for single-handedly denying government funding and insurance coverage for transgender surgery/hormone treatment.

According to The Terfs.com “It was only after the NCHCT [National Center for Health Care Technology] published Raymond’s bigotry in 1980 that the US government reversed course in 1981 and took up Raymond’s views and rhetoric.”48

But the US state and federal government had never funded sex change procedures, so the accusation makes no sense.

This is false. Before 1981, the USA did fund trans care. The USA changed their stance after the OHTA Report was issued.

Still, trans activists claim a single sentence by Janice Raymond included in the 15 page NCHCT report (“transsexual surgery is controversial in our society”) caused the US state and federal government, under the Reagan administration, to reject government funding for sex change procedures. 

False. The NCHCT asked Raymond to write a report about the ethical and social aspects of trans care.

The USA state didn’t “reject government funding for sex change procedures” because of the NCHCT report, unlike what Terfslurring is claiming; it did because of the OHTA (Office of Health Technology Assessment) report. The OHTA report made three claims - one of which was that ”transsexual surgery is controversial in our society”. Two sources were used to back up that claim:

Raymond’s NCHCT report, which was about the ethical and social aspects of trans care (NOT about the economical or experimental aspects). The entire report - not a “single sentence”.

A review of Raymond’s 1979 book, “The Transsexual Empire, The Making of the She-Male”.

Along with allegedly denying the existence of transgender people, gender critical feminists are accused of being responsible for the high murder rate of transgender people even though transgender people are overwhelmingly murdered by men...

Except that gender-critical feminists promote the same “trans women are violent rapists” mentality that those men use to justify their attacking - and killing - trans women.

...and have high rates of involvement in the extremely dangerous sex trade.

44% of black transgender people and 33% of latino transgender people have experience in the sex trade. People involved in the sex trade are 18 times more likely to be murdered than others of their same race and class.

Funny that 1) you haven’t confronted statistics between cis and trans people;

And 2) you actively refute any testimony from transgender people. Including those black/latino trans people in the sex trade - especially when they try to tell you that, having experienced both sexism, racism and transphobia, they can tell the difference between the three.

But no. You just immediately assume that they don’t know what they’re talking about, and that all transphobia is just misguided homophobia/sexism/whorephobia/anything-that-isn’t-transohobia. Old tactic.

Despite this, trans activists rarely blame male sex buyers (or males in general)...

This is blatantly false. Just look at how often they talk about male transphobic groups.

Also, “male sex buyers”? ...Why do I suspect that you’re also against sex work (not “sex trade”, I’ve said sex work)?

There’s more, but frankly, I had enough.

[kababage95]

Apophatic Feminism

As with my last “essay” (not sure it should be called that but as I can’t think of a better word it’s what we are going with), I am not an expert on anything written below. I have not studied sociology or gender studies or anything on feminism. The below is my opinion and I am always open to discussing anything written below (with one exception that is pointed out at the time).

There is a philosophical theory (Apophatic Theology) that the only way to truly describe god is through describing what he is not, so perhaps I will try applying this idea to feminism. There are a number of things that feminism does not mean, and once people understand what it isn’t, perhaps then they will be willing to admit to themselves and the world that they are in fact a feminist.

Feminism is not the hatred of men. Gender stereotypes are, in reality, against the nature of feminism. Given this, the notion of “men suck” falls squarely into the category of anti-feminist. Indeed, when you really get into it, feminism tries to challenge the ideas that men are emotionless, aggressive and impulsive. What feminism does realise it that men have privilege. It accepts that this privilege can be used for good or for bad depending on the person, but that privilege is undeniable. When people, whoever they are, use privilege to assert power over other people, its part of a democratic society that we are allowed to call those people out on it, and that’s what feminism seeks to do. At its heart feminism is a social justice movement. This means that it absolutely should place the welfare of those that are most harmed above the ego of any who would benefit from the privilege that it seeks to remove. Note however that this clearly isn’t about how men are, or how they should be. It is a fact of the world that men have more power than women. It is this imbalance that feminism seeks to change; not because it wants to hurt men, but because it aims to free people from expectations and stereotypes that are harmful to everybody.

Coming off of the first point, whilst feminism is not the hatred of men, it is also not the belief that women are superior. There are a lot of people out there that see feminism as a celebration of womanhood; it isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that womanhood shouldn’t be celebrated, but let’s make it clear that they are not the same thing. In reality, feminism seeks to challenge the very idea of womanhood. Femininity is a construct of society, and in reality, whilst societal norms confer some benefits to being a woman, they are few and far between and it is for this reason that feminism seeks to challenge the idea of womanhood. Yes, it is considered more socially acceptable for women to be open with their emotions (another notion that feminism seeks to tear down), but is this really suitable recompense for disadvantages such as higher risk of sexual and domestic violence or for being economically disadvantaged? For being denied basic human rights in certain parts of the world and the many other negative side effects of being born with two X chromosomes instead of one X and one Y? Clearly the answer here is no, categorically not. Being a feminist isn’t about saying that being female is better than being male, it’s about wanting to be able to say that being a woman, or any other non-binary gender is as good as being a man and having it be true. At the moment, it simply isn’t.

Moving away from men for a second (feminism isn’t all about men?! Shocking I know), it should be clear that feminism isn’t the idea that dresses and the colour pink are bad. Feminism is not anti-feminine. You have to hand it to the patriarchy, managing to convince people that feminism is both a hatred of men, and the hatred of things associated with women was a stroke of genius. By doing so, you eliminate the vast majority of those that would otherwise support the movement. Feminists don’t hate the colour pink or wearing dresses (my best friend is the best proponent of feminism that I know and she wears more dresses than anything else). Far from the idea that those things are bad, feminism is the idea that those things shouldn’t be inherently associated with women at all. It’s about being able to understand that certain things have actually been devalued by being classed as feminine; how unusual is it to see things, and even people, being mocked for being feminine? Being a feminist means acknowledging that there is absolutely no valid reason at all for anything to have any gender associated with it and that more than that, gender doesn’t confer value. More than anything else feminism is about choice. If a woman wants to wear a pink dress and be a stay-at-home mum, that doesn’t mean she isn’t a feminist or make her less of a feminist. Equally, a woman who wears a suit and devotes her life to her career is no more or less a feminist.

Building on this idea, and I cant believe I have to make this point, being gay isn’t a bad thing. Let’s get this cleared up right now. Firstly, being LGBTQ is not, in any way, a negative thing. There is no link whatsoever between sexual orientation and being a feminist. More and more I see anti-feminists telling those that identify as a feminist that they are gay, with gay being meant as an insult. Feminist women being called lesbians because feminists must hate men. Feminist men being called gay because its “girly” to be a feminist. This is the one part of this “essay” that I am not willing to have a discussion over. Using any form of sexual orientation as an insult is not acceptable in any situation. Ever. The end. You absolutely can be gay and be a feminist and it is true that being gay may influence a person’s feminism, it’s called intersectionality, look it up. But the two things are not intrinsically linked. Just one final time for those that are struggling, “gay” is NOT okay to use as an insult and “feminist” is not a dirty word. I urge all of you to call out anybody that you hear using gay as an insult, it is not okay. It is despicable behaviour that should be called out at any opportunity.

“Feminists do nothing except complain”. Yeah okay buddy, go crawl back under whatever rock you just crawled out from. There are two things here, firstly, the idea that someone complaining must be feminist, have you seen any of the world ever? The human race took complaining and turned it into a skill that most everybody everywhere has mastered. I really wish that everybody who complained was a feminist, the battle would be over, the entire world would be feminists and gender equality would be achieved tomorrow. Clearly, that’s not the case. Secondly, the idea that the only thing that feminists do in the world is complain is clearly BS. Feminism gives people hope, it makes people laugh and cry and it inspires people. Without feminism women wouldn’t be able to vote, there would be none of the advances in the work place and it would still be acceptable for a husband to force his wife to have sex with him (something that wasn’t illegal in all 50 US states until 1993 and which will be covered in more detail in a separate essay). Feminism has achieved so many things in the last 100 years, it still has a way to go before its aims are fully realised, but its pretty clear that feminism is not only about complaining.

The final thing I want to point out that feminism is not is that it is not the aim of feminism to turn humanity into an identical whole. It is not unusual for feminists to be accused of trying to make humanity one great big homogeny by removing gender roles and for sure, if you are only willing to view diversity as things being male or female then feminism is going to challenge that. But is that really what diversity is? Two groups? To me, diversity is about having an infinite number of groups, of which each individual belongs to any number of. Instead of having men and women, male and female, masculine and feminine, diversity is about recognising that its stupid to try force fit 7 billion (and growing) people into one of two groups. If you were born a man that wants to masculine then that is absolutely fine, nobody is trying to take that away from you. If the stereotypes of the gender you were assigned at birth fits you like a glove then lucky you, and more power to you. But the truth is that for the vast majority of people, those stereotypes leave something to be desired. Feminism is saying that people shouldn’t feel pressured to feel or act in a particular way because the patriarchy deems, from the day you are born, that you should act in a way that conforms to their ideals. What seems to amaze certain people in society is that, when people act in a way that they are being who they truly are, and not in a way that society tells them they must act, the world goes on spinning and doesn’t implode. More than that, when people don’t feel the pressure to behave how others say they must, when people behave how they want to, the world doesn’t divide itself neatly into only two categories, and that’s okay!

So if that’s 6 things that feminism isn’t, then what do I think feminism is? To me, feminism is so many things, but more than anything else, its about choice. Yes it is the political, social and economical equality of the genders but its about choice. It’s about the freedom to choose to not wear make-up or to wear make-up no matter who you are. It’s about it being okay to aspire to be a full time mum or dad. It’s about everybody, everywhere being free to choose who they want to be, without the fear of being judged because “that’s not ladylike” or “that’s girly”. Yawn. Get over yourself. We aren’t born knowing that little girls play with dolls and little boys play with trucks and blocks. My partner of almost 6 years is an Early Years teacher, she works with babies from 6 months up to two years 5 days a week, and let me assure you that there are plenty of little boys who enjoy playing with the dolls and at that age, its generally the little girls who are better at building with the blocks. They don’t know about gender norms until society influences them and, given that, I am forced to conclude that far from trying to implement a new societal norm on society, what feminism is actually trying to do is to revert society back into the way that society would naturally be without 6 millennia worth of misogyny.

That concludes another essay! As before, I fully accept that some of you may not have read all of this as it is really rather long, if you read any of it, I hope you have taken something away from it! For those of you that are curious, I am a white, 22 year old male who currently lives in London and has never lived outside the UK, I had a number of DMs from people asking for that information after the last post so thought I would get ahead of it this time!

[saviorgoddessastrid]

How To Write An Interesting Deity

So, I get some commentary about how Astrid’s an incredibly well-written deity OC, and I have a couple of friends who I talk to about our mutual frustrations with how folks generally RP or just write deity OCs.  Given how I am a guy who wants others to improve, I’m going to detail how to come up with a deity that folks are going to be actually interested in.  Fair warning, this is a lot simpler than it sounds, and most of it is going to be under the cut due to the length.  So, let’s begin, shall we?

So, when we talk about gods that are being written by folks, there’s a general set of pitfalls you’ll see people fall into, what I shall refer to as The Classic Blunders.  These are pitfalls you see almost everybody who writes a deity do, and they‘re mistakes you should probably avoid if you want your deity to be interesting.

Classic Blunder #1: The Power Fantasy.

Let’s not kid ourselves here, deities are an easy Power Fantasy to write, because gods are inherently overpowered beings and you can easily excuse their OPness under their divine status.  However, consider this: Everyone and their mother knows this fact, and is using it for that very purpose.

With this Classic Blunder, you commonly see folks creating a deity with the express purpose of being The Strongest(tm) and having little personality outside of Being The Strongest(tm).  This isn’t exclusively a mistake done by deity writers, and honestly it speaks more of one’s inexperience with RPing than it does their actual OC when it’s committed.  These deities all have a single purpose: Be as ludicrously overpowered as possible, and shit on everyone else and get away with it because they’re a god and they’re taking the shit on mortals.

This may seem entertaining in the short-term, but frankly, folks aren’t going to be interested in a character who is, by all measurements, arrogant, selfish, and prone to destroying anything they want on a whim just because they can.  While some folks might find entertainment in the Power Fantasy, for those of us who like good characters, this becomes an extremely frustrating topic because the vast, vast majority of deity OCs are built with this purpose in mind.

I’m not going to say not to make your deity powerful, because that is part of the purpose of gods, to be something greater than a mortal.  However, instead of having your deity abuse their power and shit all over everyone else, consider the following: Instead of focusing on what they can do, focus instead on what they should do with that power.

Here’s a classic example: Folks like to ask, “If God is all-powerful and benevolent, why doesn’t He just cure every disease possible?” And while yes, the vast majority of deities could easily obliterate every possible disease out there in an instant, the long-term effect of such an action is a net-loss.

In curing every disease imaginable, not only are people left with weaker immune systems, medical science is rendered irrelevant.  No new cures and breakthroughs are invented, and people have less reason to actually treat themselves when something does happen, because they have a god who has already set precedence that they can and will cure their diseases and injuries for them.

Their followers learn nothing, and ultimately slip backwards and become reliant on their god’s power to solve everyday problems because there is precedence for such a thing.  That is not a beneficial thing in the long run, and gods, being totally immortal, will live to see the lasting harm of their actions.

Unless your god’s shtick is explicitly being evil or uncaring, your god is probably going to be concerned with the long-term ramifications of their actions, since they will live long enough to be concerned by them.  And if they’re uncaring, they’re less likely to want to involve themselves in trivial mortal affairs.

That’s an important aspect to consider.  Gods think bigger and broader in scope than mortals do, and while they have the power to change reality, whether or not the should do that is a matter of debate.

Classic Blunder #1a: Hostile Divine Negotiations

This Classic Blunder is related to the first one, and like the first one, tends to be the result of inexperience more than anything else.  This Classic Blunder is mostly for crossover material.  In particular, two gods interacting with each other across universes.  A lot of folks who write Power Fantasy deities like to look down on other deities and make it very apparent they don’t approve of the other.

It is important to bear in mind that gods are petty, selfish creatures prone to spiting whoever offended them at a moment’s notice.  Every god knows this, and even if your god is extremely powerful, they will also know that every deity has a number of allies at their back.  Remember, a good chunk of bad things that happen to mortals in mythology are the results of them insulting the gods in some fashion and suffering payback, which the gods are happy to inflict.  There’s no reason to believe that the gods won’t do the same for another god not of their pantheon (or even of their pantheon, depending).

As such, if your deity is going to waltz on in and start insulting another deity because you view your god as arbitrarily stronger, recognize that you’re pretty much going to, at best, get an annoyed god that wants you to go away, or at worst, an interdimensional pantheon war, which is a horrible result because war between gods is never pretty, and your god will stand to lose a lot as a result of these shenanigans.

As a result, no matter how powerful your god is, it’s generally wiser to have your god be at least neutral in tone around other gods.  They may have their issues, but few gods would be reckless enough to insult another god and risk a war between pantheons, because even if they’d win, they’d lose more than they’d gain.

Classic Blunder #1b: Omnipotent Jackass

This one’s also related to the first one of Being The Strongest(tm), and this one is mostly about goddesses, particularly omnipotent goddesses.  This one I see less often in RPing than the others, so much as writing, but it’s a thing that happens sometimes.  I’ve noticed that several people who write omnipotent goddesses tend to have their goddess simply abuse their power, warp reality to their leisure, and be treated as the sexiest woman alive as a result of their power.

However, these sorts of characters are, to me at least, much less appealing than kind-hearted goddesses, because when you read between the lines, these characters come off as cruel, selfish, and self-centered, caring about nobody but themselves and willingly using their power to do whatever they damn well please, knowing that nobody can stop them.  I can see some level of appeal in it, but I’d rather someone who has infinite power be restrained in its usage because then I know I can talk with them without them turning me into a footstool because they’re bored.

This doesn’t necessarily apply purely to sex appeal either, though it tends to be used for such, but any god who abuses their omnipotence to no end can fall into this particular Classic Blunder, especially if they’re doing it just because they can.  The only real thing I can say here is that, unless you’re deliberately making your god uncaring about anyone around them, it’s probably better that they show at least some restraint in their power usage.  It’s not very fun to have someone who’s omnipotent constantly warping reality to their leisure and being a dick to everyone, at least, for those of us who don’t find that stuff attractive.

Classic Blunder #1c: Amoral God

This topic is closely related to Omnipotent Jackass, but has a few distinctions.  Amoral God largely has to deal with gods who are intended to be Lovecraftian in design.  The problem is that these gods end up as a case of “all the power in the universe, and no personality to back it up”.

The idea behind Amoral God is that they operate on an entirely different set of morals than mortals, and thus are beyond mortal comprehension.  What you typically get instead is a god that simply does what they please and has no discernible motives for anything except “It Amused Me”.  These gods are extremely boring to work with because they just don’t seem interested in anything except what personally interests them, and end up being extremely one-note in personality even when you’re trying to make them interesting by making them unlike other human gods.

The only real thing I can tell you here is that vagueness does not equate to substance in and of itself.  You need to go with something greater than that if you wish to be a truly interesting deity, someone who folks are going to want to learn more than that.

To give you a general tip on how to write a Lovecraftian deity: The trick with Lovecraftian gods is that their sense of morality is different from ours, but that wouldn’t make them completely incomprehensible to us.  Their actions and deeds are going to seem strange to us, but they are definitely going to be consistent in their applications.  When writing one of these gods, figure out what they view as right and wrong, and make it apparent that they view things in this manner.  Don’t just end it at “they view things different from humans, so don’t bother trying to understand it”.

Classic Blunder #2: The Christ Problem

Now, unlike Classic Blunder #1, Classic Blunder #2 is an issue that comes at you from both writers and readers.  What is The Christ Problem you might ask? The Christ Problem, as a friend of mine calls it, is the assumption that gods are inherently perfect creatures, who are either pure good or pure evil, with no room left for a middle-ground.  Mistakes made are intentional, and flaws hint at them being evil.

The interesting thing about The Christ Problem is that this is a purely Judeo-Christian view of the gods, and even then, it’s a misinterpretation of the Judeo-Christian God, who was very much a flawed figure in the Bible.  Outside of Christianity, gods have always been treated as flawed creatures, and never a perfect being.

Greek Mythology, one of the best examples of gods done right, was so memorable to so many because their gods were human.  Every god in Greek Mythology had their flaws, their vices, their virtues, and were overall no different from their own creations with the exception of power.  However, this was by no means exclusive to Greek Mythology in and of itself.  Norse Mythology had much of the same issues with the gods, that they made mistakes in a desperate attempt to avert Ragnarok and, in the end, caused the very thing they were trying to avoid to occur.

When you work with The Christ Problem in combination with The Power Fantasy, there’s a noticeable split in how it’s applied.  Many times, male deities are treated as pure good even though they are by all measurements cruel and arrogant, while female deities are treated as the purest of evils even if all their actions point to them being good people just because they made a few mistakes.

Counteracting The Christ Problem is very difficult because of how this is a Classic Blunder committed by readers just as often as it’s committed by writers.  The only real thing I can tell you is this: No religion in the history of existence has treated their gods as truly perfect, and gods can make mistakes.  As well, the idea of a god never doing a bad thing ever is totally unrealistic.  As I said, gods are infinitely more likely to care about the long game, and they will be willing to do a bad thing in the short term for a long-term gain for their followers.  Just remember: All the most interesting gods out there got that way because they made very human mistakes and are all the more relatable because of it.

Classic Blunder #3: Where The Religion?

This one’s a more minor nitpick, but I noticed that a lot of deity OCs don’t actually touch up on one of the most important aspects of gods: Their religion.  There’s a lot you can do to craft a god’s personality by just figuring out their religion.

The vast majority of deity OCs never mention their religion, or if they do, it’s only in passing and never given some actual detail.  Religion is perhaps one of the most important parts of a god, because religion is typically how gods interact with their mortal followers.  Really, if you’re going to write a deity OC, you should really think deeply about what your god teaches to their followers and what they believe in.  There’s a lot to cover on that topic alone.  And developing a god’s religion will help you develop their personality.

When it comes to deity OCs, developing the religion is entirely optional.  Many deities can get by without any actual worship, and even if they did need it, not every god is directly involved in their faith.  You rarely see other mythologies delve into how exactly one should worship the gods and make it a key factor of the gods (most simply leave it at “respect the gods or else”).

However, if you’re stumped on where to take your deity and what you want them to be personality-wise, it would be quite beneficial for you to contemplate their religion.  Consider what aspects your deity represents and what they teach.  For instance, many War Gods are all about battle in some format, while a Sun God is typically about...well, the sun and the warmth it brings.

You need not develop an entire mythology around your deity, simply consider what they teach, what they represents, and how their domains affect them as a person.  Many gods are interested in assuring that their domains remain unchallenged and that they can continue to grow in power as they work.

What to do to make your deity stand out?

Honestly, I know that this sounds like a lot of explanations, but frankly, it all boils down to one thing: Give your gods a genuine personality outside of their raw power.  How do they view their worshipers? Do they love them like they would their own children, or are they distant from their followers? Do they get personally involved with their faith, or do they leave their worshipers to their own devices? For that matter, what does your god do when confronted with followers who use their faith as a shield against criticism and commit horrible misdeeds that go against the god’s own teachings?

If you can give your god a genuine personality that is about more than just having raw power, then you’re well on your way to creating a fascinating deity that truly stands out among the rabble that other deity OC writers come up with.  And I assure you, folks will be infinitely more interested in interacting with your deity if they can be taken as something that seems human, despite all of their divine power.

In regards to a god’s power, the best thing to do is leave the limits defined, but the powers vague.  You’ll notice in a lot of other mythologies, the gods tend not to have their powers spelled out for everyone in plain lettering, they simply give them a defined limit, and leave the rest up to one’s imagination.

Where To Start?

If you wish to write a truly interesting deity OC, I strongly suggest studying ancient religions, particularly Greek Mythology, though by all means, don’t feel it necessary to restrict yourself to it.  Any religion can serve as inspiration, as long as you use its ideas respectfully, and while I myself love a good Greek Myth-inspired character, every other religion out there has something interesting to bring to the table.  Pick up on the quirks and traits that the gods of other religions demonstrate outside of the Christian faith.  See how the god’s domains influence them as people, and what they teach to their followers through their myths.  You’ll find that it’s much easier to write an interesting god than you might think if you study how other religions did the topic.

Above all else: Don’t rely too much on your god’s raw power.  Once you get to the point where your god can create planets with their mind, any higher and you’re basically just saying they’re fully omnipotent.  There’s little reason to boast about a god’s accomplishments, because every god is well beyond what mortals can do, and we don’t read about gods to see them constantly boasting and belittling others.  We read about them to see the unique challenges they face, and see how their very human flaws result in them committing terrible mistakes out of selfish reasons.

Gods are, by far, one of the more interesting topics to write about when you work with more than just a bland power fantasy.  Really, you should try it sometime, you might find it to be more interesting and worthwhile than Power Fantasy OC God #5731257532652.

[cami-chats]

Tie Me Up In Red

Title: Tie Me Up In Red

Link: AO3 (full text also below)

Square Filled: Magic Use During Sex

Ship: Tony Stark/Wanda Maximoff

Rating: Explicit

Major Tags: None, but there is Explicit Sexual Content, Dom/Sub, Sub Tony, Bondage, and Trans Wanda

Summary: Tony admits he liked to be tied up, and Wanda has an idea for how to do that.

Word Count: 2725

Created for @mcukinkbingo​

Full Text under the read more

They both had a thing for red: Wanda’s hair, her powers, Tony’s suit, his wardrobe, and his toys, she learned.

It felt strange to say she loved her powers, but she did. She loved them all the more for the way it would look ringing Tony’s wrists. She hadn’t mentioned that fantasy to him for long time, content with their sex life. Hell, she wouldn’t have ever told him if he hadn’t brought it up first.

Tony grabbed a box and showed her the clattering of red: vibrators and lingerie, handcuffs and ribbons. “We don’t have to do anything with it, I just figured… I don’t know. If you were open to trying some of this stuff, I’d appreciate it, but you definitely don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Wanda didn’t said anything at first, entranced. She licked her lips and reached into the box, pulling out a silk ribbon and running it through her fingers. “You like to be tied up?” she asked breathlessly. He was a fucking dream come true, and just thinking about it made her tingle.

“Yes,” he admitted, blushing like he thought she would have something to say about his preference.

“That explains a few things.” Like how easily he followed where she pushed, and why, when she had accidentally given him an order in bed once, he had followed without objection. (They’d talked about it afterwards and she apologized for doing it without them talking first. Tony had easily forgiven her, and they dropped the topic, both of them too nervous to broach the idea of doing it again, on purpose this time.)

“Is it… a problem?”

“Very, very not. So, uhm.” She tried to put the ribbon down but couldn’t. She pressed the fabric to the skin at his wrists and felt breathless. “It’s a good color on you.” She shook her head, trying to focus. “So what are we talking about here?”

“Ideally?” She nodded, and Tony chewed on his lip like he was deciding whether or not to tell her everything. “Complete submission. I never- really get it though. Everyone wants to be rough, all leather and collars. Which is fine, if that’s what you want.”

“And that’s not what you want.”

His fingers tightened on the box. “I want to be taken care of. Be told I’m-” he stopped, throat working “-beautiful and perfect while I’m dressed up all pretty.” He was hunching over the container slightly, protecting himself from what his memory told him was coming. “I want my hands to be tied so I can’t touch you back until you let me, but it doesn’t matter that I can’t move because you’ve taken care of both of us.”

Wanda sidled closer, putting her arm around him low on his hips and kissing his shoulder over his shirt. “Do you believe in kink soulmates? Cause I’m starting to believe in kink soulmates.”

Tony laughed, unconsciously relaxing and leaning into her. “So you don’t mind?”

“Mind? Baby, I want nothing more than to take care of you. You don’t have to answer,” she started carefully, “and this is the only thing I want to ask, but- how did people react in the past when you told them?”

He cleared his throat. “You remember Bain?”

“Unfortunately,” she growled. If she ever saw that woman in real life, she was going to earn herself a one way ticket to prison.

“She told me to remember who the girl in the relationship was. After that, I stopped telling them exactly what I wanted, just tested the waters to see if they were interested.”

“And?”

He shook his head minutely, ashamed. “Nobody wants to be with Tony Stark if they have to do everything you know?” he chuckled, all self deprecation and no humor. “They thought I was being selfish.”

“You deserve so much better sweetheart. Will you let me take care of you?” she asked softly.

Tony looked at her, eyes wide and vulnerable. “You mean it?”

~~~

Tony looked great in his suit today, and Wanda told him so at every available opportunity. His cheeks pinked, and he shivered when she kissed his neck and let her hand rest just above his ass, lingering so he could feel her breath on his skin. His face was flushed so frequently that Steve actually asked him if he was feeling alright. He rolled his eyes and said they weren’t getting rid of him that easily, and pretended nothing was amiss until she did it again.

At the end of the day, Wanda led Tony to their room, her arm firm but gentle around his waist. She sat in the armchair they kept in their room and took off her shoes. Tony hovered uncertainly until she pat her thigh in invitation. He couldn’t sit directly on her lap because he weighed more than she did, but slightly to the side had the same intimacy. She put one hand on his thigh, and the other at the base of his neck, massaging. “How was your day, baby?”

Tony shuddered, trying to not go boneless. “It was good.”

“You look so amazing in this suit. You should try and put more red in your outfit love, it’s your color.”

“I have-” he cleared his throat “-a little bit of red.”

Wanda looked over his outfit again, frowning. “I don’t see any.”

Tony fumbled with his pants, undoing the zipper and pulling down his underwear to show her the panties he was wearing. They were lace with swirling patterns that might have been flowers and, of course, red. She ran a finger up and down his cock through the fabric, feeling him get harder under her touch.

“Oh baby,” she breathed. “Can I see you in just these?”

Tony scrambled off her lap, trying to be quick to the point that he probably took longer. He tried to kick off his pants, but his shoes were still on, so he had to sit down or risk falling over.

“Take your time sweetheart, we’re not in a hurry.” Wanda stood, unzipping her jeans and reaching in to untuck her cock, then pulling her underwear back up and sitting down, the bulge now obvious.

Tony finished undressing, blushing hard as he stood before her.

Her powers could be like an extension of her body, they’d agreed, and if Tony was ever nervous he could of course use his safeword. Gently, Wanda reached out with her powers and pushed on Tony’s shoulder, easing him to his knees. She couldn’t resist tweaking a nipple with her powers before letting the red evaporate, blending in with the blush traveling down his chest. “You look so beautiful baby. Were you wearing those all day?”

He shook his head. “They irritate my skin if I wear them too long.”

“That’s good love. Are you still good in them right now?”

He nodded.

Wanda had meant to use her powers sparingly to ease Tony into it, despite Tony saying that he had zero issue with her using them, but she kept using them, in love with the way it looked on Tony’s skin. She twirled her fingers, watching the red twine in his hair and release, moving down his face in a caress and continuing down his body until resting on his thigh, smoothing over the skin absently. Wanda barely noticed her fingers keeping up the movement, leaning forward to peer at him. “I feel like there’s something else we should have,” Wanda said.

“I-” Tony broke off, biting his lip.

“What is it, darling?”

“I could wear lipstick,” he suggested quietly.

“You’re a genius.”

Tony preened, but was still too new to not try and suppress it.

Tony’s arms were resting at his sides, but as Wanda stood, she moved them behind his back and held his wrists together with her powers. She dug in the vanity, looking for the deepest shade of red she could find. She glanced at him and saw that he was doing his best to hide. “Spread your legs honey, I want to see you.”

He did as she said, not hesitating.

“Tilt your head up.”

He did.

She walked over and held his chin as she applied the lipstick. “Oh sweetheart,” she said reverently, “whoever told you you’re not the most perfect being in the universe couldn’t see you.” She pet his hair, feeling him give into the motions so easily it’s like he was built for it. From this angle, she could see the red of his panties, the red on his lips, and the red binding his hands. “Can I try something?”

“Yes,” he said, more a breath than a word.

She cupped his face as her powers moved his hands, guiding them to hold onto her legs. “Can I get your pretty lips on me?”

He nodded, gazing up at her adoringly.

“Tap if you need me to stop, okay? I’ll feel it.”

He nodded again, and this was about the time she should move her hands, but she didn’t want to. She stroked his cheeks and used her powers to slide her underwear under her cock. Tony leaned forward and took the head between his lips, then looked up at her, wide brown eyes asking if that was okay.

“You look like a dream, baby.”

His eyes fluttered shut and he took more of her into his mouth, going over her slowly, purposely smudging his lipstick over her length.

“That’s it love, just like that. You always know exactly what I want.” She put a hand at the back of his head and fucked into his mouth leisurely. “You look- oh- oh baby you look so gorgeous. And I don’t just mean on your knees for me, but don’t doubt for a second that I don’t love that too. You look perfect no matter what you’re doing, and you do everything so well.” She gasped when Tony took her to the back of his throat and swallowed. “Just a second baby.” She reached out with her powers and rubbed at his nipples in contrast to her words. She thumbed at his cheek as she moved shallowly in his mouth before pulling out.

She got on her knees too, cock hanging out covered in spit and lipstick marks. Tony’s hands were still stuck to her thighs, and she trailed her hands up his arms, leaving a benign mist of red chasing after her. She kissed him, claiming his mouth as she thrust her tongue in and teased his cock with one hand until he was whimpering.

Wanda broke off and let his hands go. She gave him a minute to catch his breath, then took his hands in her own and stood, helping him along. He rested his head on her shoulder, and she realized she still had all her clothes on. “You could be a candy, you’re so sweet,” she said, turning to kiss his head. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his back to grip his ass, bringing him forward with a little help from her powers to grind against her. He moved the way she guided and stopped when she did. “Gods above I must have done something very good in a past life to deserve this.” She slid her hands under the material and grabbed two handfuls of frankly magnificent ass. “How about you take these off and get on the bed? On your hands and knees sweetheart.”

Tony swayed when Wanda stepped away, pausing to get his bearings before sliding the panties off and getting on the bed. He was obviously nervous about exposing himself like that, so Wanda kept up a running dialogue of how great he looked, how much she loved him, and how nice it was that he trusted her like this.

She worked on stripping out of her clothes, pausing intermittently to run a hand through his hair or smooth over his back as she talked. She grabbed the lube and a condom from their bedside table before climbing behind him. She put her hands on his ass, pushing his cheeks together then pulling them apart to show his hole, and putting her dry finger against it to feel him clench.

“Grab ahold of the headboard sweetness.” Wanda let go as he scooted forward and put his hands together before gripping the solid wood. She leaned over him, tracing up his back and as far up his arm as she could reach. Her breasts brushed against him, and she enjoyed the bare stimulation as her powers followed her hands, snaking along his skin past where her fingers ended and continuing on to tie his wrists together and link them to the headboard.

She leaned back and lubed up a finger, circling his rim a few times to get him loose enough for her to press in.

Tony let out a choked off moan, and she hummed. “That’s it baby, just relax.” She pet his thigh as she put in another finger, reaching around to give his cock a few strokes. “Be loud for me, love,” she said when he cut off another noise. “I want to hear you.” She twisted her fingers, pumping them in and out smoothly. “You sound like a salvation prayer when you let go baby.” She found his prostate and massaged it for a second. She pulled her fingers out, put more lube on even though it wasn’t strictly necessary, and wiggled three in.

Tony moaned, loud and long, and Wanda’s cock twitched.

“So good sweetie, so good. You want me in you?”

“Yes,” Tony gasped, arms jerking against his restraints.

Wanda increased the power going to them, not really affecting how they interacted with Tony, but increasing the glow. Red glinted off his arms and shoulders where he was sweating, and he tugged on them again. “Please.”

“Don’t have to beg, baby, I was just getting ready. I wouldn’t do that to you,” she promised, lining herself up and pressing in slowly. “I want to give you the world, Tony, you think I wouldn’t give you my cock?”

His back arched as he pushed his ass back, trying to hurry her along. She obliged, her hips pressed against him, and she wiped her hand off on Tony’s cock, ridding herself of the lube as well as giving it to him, even though he wouldn’t need it for what she had planned.

She rolled her hips and thrust shallowly as her hands ran all over Tony’s body, touching and massaging to get her fill of him-- though such a thing wasn’t truly possible. When Tony finally gave up to her, trusting her to make him feel good, she put her hands on his hips and started fucking him in earnest.

He gasped and moaned, muttering her name over and over as she slammed into him, determined to make him feel as good as she felt. Her mind was fuzzy with pleasure, but she still was able to focus her powers and start jacking Tony off, hard and fast like her hips were moving. She tightened her hold, both on his hips and his cock, and then Tony was coming, shaking and panting as Wanda chased her orgasm. She groaned, hips moving reflexively as she spilled into the condom.

She released her powers, and watched Tony collapse to the bed through a haze that only came with great sex. She took off the condom and tied it, pushing it off the side of the bed and hoping neither of them would step on it later.

Wanda laid down next to him, barely controlled, and massaged his trembling arm. “On your side, baby.”

Tony rolled, the arm that Wanda couldn’t reach before now on top of him. She spooned him, hand working over the muscle as he snuggled against her.

“How are you feeling?”

Tony nodded and had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Good.”

Wanda hummed. “Glad to hear it. Sorry about all the pet names.”

“I liked it.”

Wanda smiled tiredly. “Well I’m glad to hear that, but still. I’m out of practice.”

“I liked it,” he repeated, his voice scratchy.

She curled her arm around to his chest and hugged him. “And I’m very happy that you liked it, but imagine how much better it can be.” She kissed his shoulder.