#Barbie rejected her boyfriend (even boyfriend-by-design

[strawberry38]

First gen stereotipical princess tropes (gendered).

The one functions that you can defy them as/with. That could be or are important story-wise or to the heroines themselves or their surrounding.

Helpless Miss (tags)

Houseworker. --------->

Longing for love (tags)

-----> Prepping the house.

'Opressor mentality' should be a word. (Rest are written in the tags, last 4 tags to be specific, edit:added some more tags 😋).

Like how it goes you clean one thing, gonna get to another one. "No you didn't do That one". Or going to work on another corner. "Not doing it well actually". We just make it prepped and made nice so that larger and most-likely spoiled himbo comes across and read a preachment to us. Eh

It's important to be orderly or kind but when you are getting kind of talked over during work or criticised. It should have a word. Oppressor mentality (also was oppressed, oppressed mentality, so the least you can do is call upon that, (call upon) aka to be nice and non violent about that)

[calicohyde]

Jack Hyde All-Character Tournament: Round 2, Seed 5

Lily Lowether ("Witch Noir")

Lily is a type of witch known as a Stranger (making her the primary eponymous character of the series). As a Stranger, Lily has the ability to trade - or in her case, steal - body parts from other human beings, without having to worry about things like blood type compatibility or other complications involved with transplanting the secular way. Unlike most witches who are blessed with this very rare ability, Lily doesn't use her gift to provide medical care. Instead, she takes away the full bodies of people she deems undeserving of those forms - particularly trans men and butches who she believes are desecrating their femininity. Using her power this way is very dangerous. It results in the near-immediate deaths of her victims, but it also makes Lily herself incredibly sick. While she doesn't need to worry about organ rejection, she does have to contend with horrible illness from a sort of metaphysical rejection syndrome instead. Lily no longer remembers what she originally looked like and fully convinces herself each new body she steals is truly hers - except of course when it comes to getting off on the violation of using the harvested body of a lesbian, ace, straight trans man, or even a minor to have sex with her conservative boyfriend.

Genre: Horror Fantasy Designation: Villain Quick Facts: doesn't remember how old she really is either, loves animals uwu

VERSUS

Brittany Passerine (Any Publicity Is Good Publicity)

Brittany is one half of the techno-pop duo Tangerine. She's an aggressive and in-your-face type of girl who blacksmiths and does mixed martial arts for fun when she's not making music. She was childhood friends with Asher and Jordan, the brothers that make up the punk duo ION, and she made a marriage pact with Ash when they were six years old. Luckily, he turned out to be gay, so now she's dating Jo instead, as well as her band's other half, Candy Tang.

Genre: Romantic Comedy Designation: Side Character Quick Facts: Barbie girl looks + brawler attitude, fluent in French

[iamnathannah]

Glorbie/Gilmore Girls Fic Prompt

Just had this idea for Barbie and Gloria crossing over with Chilton and Paris, and how things change for the three of them;

•Barbie is absolutely in love with Gloria, but she's a very popular soccer player with parents who absolutely refuse to let her hang out with anyone except fellow rich kids. Thus her best 'friend' is Louise. She's on an Alex Morgan trajectory towards the USWMT. Because of her parents and fears about her social standing, she doesn't reach out to Gloria out of fear of not only rejection but because her parents would disown her; it just so happens her parents are Straub and Francine Hayden, who adopted her after everything that went down with Lorelai, Christopher and Rory as a completely obvious 'image rehab' stunt. And yup, they've never changed, and when she mentions Gloria and then her last name, she gets a lecture about how 'we don't associate with those people'.

•Gloria is just there to learn and after some bumpiness, Paris is her best friend and supports her with everything she has. She's from Hartford's Frog Hollow area (the area's Latinx core) and is there on a scholarship, and she is studying art and design, along with business. Because of her scholarship status, Louise has very hateful prejudice against her and Paris dropped her friendship with Louise when it became clear they wouldn't get along. Madeline remains a solid and kind friend, a sort of intermediary between Barbie's sporty prep life and Gloria's more grounded 'local girl making good' beginnings.

•Rory is the Ken here; just enough elaboration, but her story is there, she's fine with Paris, but otherwise she's on the periphery. Through Friday night dinners and society events they know each other well, but since Rory's academic and Barbie's preppy and sporty, their paths rarely cross. Lorelai is completely neutral on Barbie and has never held any hate for her despite her being adopted to 'soften' the Haydens.

•Tristan is Barbie's boyfriend and is Ken-like in that he's a true himbo. No ill motives, just The Dude.

•No Dean, duh. As with Rory, Jess is there, but just in that undescribed Stars Hollow world. Logan is somewhere, but not in power, and nowhere near Rory.

•The actual Chilton part is the setup; one of Barbie's teammates is Madeline and she realizes that she's in love with Gloria and tries to earnestly set them up together through a bunch of gossip and telephone. But this is 2006 Chilton (moving time up a bit so that Sasha's eventual age makes sense) and like that time, trying to get two women together, especially from different income brackets, is an exercise in frustration.

•When Barbie calls to ask her out however, Gloria dismisses it out of hand and asserts that it was a team hazing ritual, even after Madeline says it was her own idea, and thinks Barbie even liking her as a friend is a put-on. She brushes it off as a joke even as Barbie tries to explain her earnest feelings and tells Barbie to just not bother; 'once a Hayden, always a Hayden', which absolutely levels Barbie because she knows how much immoral shit her terrible parents have done and she absolutely knows the shit they pulled with Lorelai.

•Barbie then tries to create a cozy and intimate promposal a couple years down the line, but her world is crushed when before she can invite Gloria, Louise lets her know (she doesn't know Barbie's crush and mentions it off-hand) with vicious glee that Richie (here portrayed as kind of a dick) slid off the condom when he was having sex with her, and Gloria is eight weeks months pregnant. "And she's Catholic with (Mexican slur) parents, so guess what's happening? (hums the Wedding March evilly)". Gloria is of course Honduran, but Louise is a racist you-know-what.

•Paris and her nanny's family support Gloria 100% and give her all the assistance and help she needs when her parents refuse to support her dream of going to the Rhode Island School of Design and make her marry Richie. She does get her RISD scholarship though and despite many challenges, including being a young mom and having to deal with her husband and her parents, graduates with honors with Sasha, Paris and Madeline and her nanny and their family looking on at her proudly, along with her sister and brother who bristle against their parent's traditional religious leanings.

•Her own dream of love with Gloria crushed, Barbie gets a full ride soccer scholarship to UNC-Chapel Hill and becomes a college soccer legend. The Haydens turn the screws to get Tristan in too and she's stuck with him a bit longer. Eventually though they break up in Barbie's sophomore year on still very friendly terms once Tristan realizes why Barbie both is averse to sex with him and that she was always in love with Gloria, and holds her secret. He marries Summer and the threesome (not in that way! Barbie says to anyone that asks) are a supportive trio with each other.

•Several years pass; Gloria is working in the design department at Hasbro in Pawtucket, but has gone through several things, including some parental and sibling strife where they want her to help more in Hartford, despite her life with Sasha in Providence. Just as the story starts, she's found out that Louise and Richie have had a long affair beneath her nose and she feels rightfully betrayed, but now completely lost. She also learns at the same time that much of her design work is being offshored to India and her hours are being cut by Hasbro (gotta show that Mattel support somehow!).

•Barbie's life seems great on the surface; she does nothing but win in the pros, is one of the brightest stars on the USWMT and has won the world's Ballon d'Or Féminin twice (it started in 2018 but for narrative purposes here it started earlier). But inside she's unfulfilled; her love life is spare with only a few short relationships here and there and she learns just before the 2019 Women's World Cup that though her eggs are viabl,e she is unable to conceive a child because of her bio family history including uterine cancer, something that devastates her deeply; the thing she was looking forward the most to eventually was raising a child, and of course Straub and Francine are on her to have one before they die, especially after Christopher landed in Club Fed after some tax evasion and insider trading.

•Barbie loves Gigi deeply and is on good terms with Sherrie, and all three loathe the grandparents for treating Gigi like crap as a 'bastard baby' they refuse to pass anything onto. Christopher has hated Barbie from the moment Francine brought her home and there is no love lost on Barbie's end either.

•After the WWC ends, Barbie decides to seek the assistance of a surrogate and after looking around for recommendations, soon remembers that her former classmate Paris is a fertility specialist who loves taking on big cases, and she knows she'd be happy to help out her former classmate. Yeah, Paris and Dynasty Makers are very happy to help her get knocked up in the surrogacy sense and treat her kindly.

•With work sucking deeply and Richie's child support contributions quickly declining as Louise hoovers up his income, Gloria finds herself in desperation mode, especially as her daughter is absolutely becoming the next Barbie Hayden herself and decimating every high school and SAYSO soccer team in Rhode Island, Connecticut and the Boston Metro. She wants to get Sasha on a competitive squad, because where they are now is a desert of competition, and Sasha doesn't want to be stuck in her prime pre-pro years playing the equivalent of rookie mode in FIFA in real life. •She catches up with Paris one day in New York, and without any prompting, the woman notices that Gloria's LinkedIn hasn't been updated lately and she wonders why. Gloria can't hide anything from her best friend and tells Paris about the Hasbro cutbacks and offshoring, along with how Sasha is starting to resent her for having to cut back on things and that she can't play prime soccer.

•Paris quickly realizes that there might be an opportunity there to not only help her best friend out by having her become a surrogate...but that the missed love of Gloria's life is on her roster and itching to have a child. Though she knows that having Gloria be Barbie's surrogate usually could never work, she feels that they're so distant now that whatever ethical concerns would usually exist would not in this situation. She goes over everything with her lawyer, who signs off on it with a couple of caveats that are minor and unlikely to come into play. She then brings up the opportunity to Gloria and promises to pay her well. "Trust me," she tells Gloria, "this woman will walk on water for what you're doing for her."

•Gloria expects the income she'll get by subletting her womb will be good for a year...she's soon surprised to discover that she's being paid seven digits by the mother-to-be. She's not refusing that figure; she's all in (duh).

•The contract is drawn up; Barbie wants the mother to be in the picture and known, but does not want to know her until the pregnancy is viable (along with anyone else knowing). She also sets up other things such as her caretaking service and such, and signs a deal to move on from the North Carolina Courage as her pro team to Gotham FC so she can stay close to the New York metro. Her eggs are extracted and much care is taken. Father is a complete unknown to everyone, including Paris, outside them being from the general region of Western Michigan, a graduate of Michigan State and with a healthy lineage, and his name is Alan. 🤷🏽‍♀️

•Gloria adjusts her own life around the surrogacy; she moves back to the Hartford area and Paris decides to pay Sasha's way through high school and college as a favor to her BFF and both Gloria and Paris are proud when she easily makes the Chilton soccer team, and boldly chooses to take Barbie's #9 jersey number for her own (both Chilton and UNC had been ready to retire it after her first WWC win but Barbie declined saying that 'someone greater in the future' should thrive wearing her number). Gloria is shocked, but not surprised, as despite her unsure feelings about Barbie and her high school years, she is Barbie's biggest fan on the pitch and attended multiple WWC and woso pro matches because of her daughter's love for her favorite player (and maybe she does appreciate a tall leggy blonde who did want her? After she kicked out Richie she's reconsidering where her feelings had been in 2008...) •Of course, Barbie hears the news of the jersey choice/Sasha coming to Chilton from Madeline; she is so excited, but also at the same time, fearful of doing more than a press release acknowledgment as she is sure Gloria still hates her. Thankfully there's still a few months until the season starts so there's no need to acknowledge anything before then.

•The first IVF attempt for Gloria is made in December, which doesn't work out (Barbie has ten eggs, so plenty of shots). The second shot is made in January, and Gloria really hopes this one takes because the emotional wallop was much deeper than she thought she'd experience as she begins the process of nesting for the next few months.

•Then complications having nothing to do with them arise; that certain virus starts up, and Paris had to close the practice to all but existing cases out of caution, and is not doing any new IVF procedures; she refuses to be the cause of any new infections and deaths. Gloria walks into the practice the first week of March and it's so odd to see her best friend of so long in full surgical dress and PPE, but she damned well understands that Paris will not get her sick.

•The appointment in fact starts with about a half-hour of conversation and promises that the woman Gloria is the surrogate for has been paranoid herself and isolated herself out of fear of catching COVID in any manner. "I think she's taken more precautions than I did and I'm in a full ass Intel cleanroom suit here and she said if you get sick at all, especially from her hand, she will loathe herself for the rest of her life." Gloria tries to assure Paris she's good, but "I mean it Espie, you picked out someone who really cares about health; when she blew out her ACL a few years back she changed her entire fucking medical staff because they missed a hairline fracture Callie Torres wouldn't have been able to discern." •It's a successful embryo in the end and Gloria is seven weeks pregnant, and the meet-up of surrogate with future mom is setup for two days later. However, the day before, Paris calls her in a panic, just as Rudy Gobert's positive test rumbles through the world. Chilton has shut down itself and immediately cancelled its entire spring sports season. Gloria now not only has to deal with surrogacy during a pandemic, but a devastated daughter who just lost her entire freshman year of eligibility, with her sophomore year at risk depending on how this all shakes out."

•"She doesn't want you to lose the baby or put yourself into danger, Glor, and I've settled things with the headmaster, but I know this isn't blowing over. My friend Honor has a house in Old Greenwich she won't be using and it has a good-sized lawn so Sasha can stay in practice, but the mom...I know it's not normal–" "We'll be living together." "Yeah. I know you–" "Paris, my mortgage and car is being paid off and I've made it clear, all in. I'm not leaving her high and dry, and I want her to know her kid's healthy 24/7. Not arguing this, tell her we're in this together." •And then the next day, Gloria meets the mother...and it turns out to be Barbie. She's in complete shock.

•But not as much as Barbie, who had expected some boring housewife from Long Island, not the lost love of her life. Her entire being is shook as she takes in both the woman she had never lost her fire for through high school and college and into her fulfilling pro/national career, and who she had thought she'd never see again because of their different worlds. She thinks Gloria hates her, but the woman doesn't speak. She's thrown back, stunned, and cries because of fate and Paris working their way to reunite them. •She then asks Gloria where Richie is. "Probably inside some bimbo in Cinci; haven't talked to him in six years." "OK, so you have a boyfriend, right?" "No, but I'm sure you do." Barbie pauses. "I...I don't. I'm on my own here, I want a child, but I can't have one myself, so I went to Dr. G. And apparently my egg is gestating within your womb." "And the soccer season I guess is delayed?" "If you're worried you're losing anything, my endorsements will hold, I'll be okay, Gloria, I'm not leaving you high and dry."

"I'm worried about Sasha though–" "Shit, oh God. Yeah, me too, I was looking forward to handing her the #9 myself!" Barbie realizes then what was to happen (her caretakers checking in here and there while she played pro and maybe some time with the surrogate here and there)...well now she's going to be living with Gloria for an indeterminate period of time. And though she knows Sasha will worship the grass she treads upon on, at the end of the day she's a surly teenager stuck inside for who knows how long with her uncool mom and her chosen trajectory on pause.

Never mind the 'mother of my child' thing where Gloria is more beautiful than ever and she already broke several commandments when she still thought about Gloria pregnant in so many wrong ways despite Richie and Gloria not believing she was wanted by the school's it girl. But this time he's nowhere to found and Louise Grant isn't ruining a damned thing between them.

And Gloria is questioning her entire being now knowing what seemed like an easy way to make some money is now going to make her face some hard truths about herself and how she regarded a girl who seemed out of reach, but she will now know in a manner most women would never know, even as friends.

There they will be in a house they never expected to be in, together, and having to learn to tolerate each other...

...maybe even love? Eventually? •Oh yeah, Paris has her own romatic history, of course; Asher and Doyle happened but she dumped the latter after Yale, conquered all, no children and just as she's about to take on her biggest challenge in her career in her BFF being a surrogate for the woso equivalent of George Best, her longtime partner in Dynasty Makers, Marissa Barbosa, who she in jest calls 'Madame President' because she's the president of the ASRM, has begun hinting that she might want to take their professional relationship to another level.

Marissa also knew Barbie in college at UNC as an instructor when she minored in sports medicine and helped Paris and Marissa meet in the first place. So Paris has kinda been finding the beautiful and funny Black woman to be so out of reach herself like Barbie was to Gloria, not thinking anyone would want her cute neurotic ass; she was shocked the tall woman can handle her loud and clear kvetching about the certain people currently in Washington, like about how 'Brett Kavanaugh is a mealy-mouthed fuckwit' and 'That mop-haired rodeo clown and his uppity bitch daughter are gonna run birth in America off a fucking cliff'...and found it funny and cute 'and she gets close to me and oh my God does she smell good and her hands feel so slender she's so perfect...'

But now with the pandemic forcing the women back to their roots helping out wherever they'd be called in Greater New York to assist in any way with the pandemic, be it an ER or field hospital, Paris and Marissa will be confronting their own mortality, and that they may have stumbled into much more than a business and partnership together.

Four women, Barbie and Gloria, Paris and Marissa. A surrogate pregnancy. A pandemic. A teenager. Living together through a reality they never expected. Falling for your mentor.

This Barbie Loves, Plays Hard, And Yearns. This Gloria Is Open And Reconsidering. This Paris Bit Off a Lot More Than She Could Chew. This President Loves Her Protege. This Sasha Just Wants to Play Soccer and Have a Baby Sister, Geeze the Drama Mom Uggh Don't Roll Your Eyes at Me, Dr. Gellar I Will Outdo You, Grandma!

[melancholypancakes]

Here is Opposite Brienne and Opposite Wally together finally!

(These two are basically boyfriend and girlfriend)

Their relationship is equivalent to a mean girl and a jock lol

Fun fact: Opposite Brienne Design is made to look like 60s blonde aesthetic style

Warning: Mention of abuse, manipulation and dysfunctional family on Brienne’s past

Brienne genuinely likes likes Wally, she however is a mean girl, a queen bee who is as cruel as Wally and like many mean girls people don’t see is.

She is insecure, forced into a society where she must be perfect, confident, perfect and beautiful.

Like Wally she hides herself and pushes everyone away by being rude and a jerk to everyone.

She feels force to do horrible things even if her family doesn’t influence her anymore.

She is a victim of dysfunctional family abuse of perfection, she doesn’t know how to say no when it’s wrong and she feels she can’t since she must be a “Barbie doll”.

Brienne would love to confess to Wally but she doesn’t know how to and she fears rejection.

Wally does love Brienne back but he finds it hard for himself to confess his love for her without being an asshole.

This concept is basically Tsundere/Jock boy x insecure/mean girl, it is unknown if any confession happened since much like OG Brienne her FATE remains unknown.

[jarrettfuller]

Caity Weaver, a writer I'm a huge fan of, has a great piece in GQ on the design decisions behind the new Ken dolls:

Now that we are a nation of woke baes and Trump supporters, it may feel like Barbie waited too long (or way, way too long) to make a concerted effort at diversity. Recall, however, that the predominantly white brand has fallen out of favor only recently. Until a couple years ago, Barbie’s sales had been on a general incline since her debut in 1959 to an 85 percent white United States. On a grand scale, the revamp is occurring on schedule: More than half of American children are expected to be part of a minority race or ethnic group by 2020, according to the Census Bureau. Mattel is changing its standard depiction of the all-American male just as it becomes fiscally wise to do so: as America tips over into a country of Dad-Neighbor-Boyfriends who are ambiguously diverse in race, trade, and fashion. Whatever this is—the dream of the enlightened man or perhaps even just the dream of a man who seems Brazilian—isn’t such a bad thing to propagate.

To watch the designers responsible for giving Ken faces (and races) at work, I am escorted (by no less than four people—all of whom could outrun me should I make a break for the secret room where Mattel shrinks down human women to Barbie sizes) to the largest area in the design center, a vast utilitarian atelier lit with a combination of skylights and fluorescent tubes and divided into a maze of cubicles and open-air worktables. One such table is laden with metal stands, on which several dozen decapitated doll heads of various shapes, expressions, colors, and hairstyles are impaled on spikes—an admonitory display of contemptible traitors from Tudor England’s hottest town.

And this great closer:

Fundamentally, dolls are for kids who know very little about society—its norms and its flaws. And so it’s certainly possible that the tangibles—the skin pigments, the love handles, the vicious debate surrounding packaging-appropriate marketing terms—matter more to parents than to children, who are already making an insane logical leap by pretending a tiny man with plastic hair is engaged in a fulfilling romantic relationship with a partially topless mermaid. In the long run, Fashionista Kens may be most valuable in their function as time capsules, preserving in plastic amber not just clothing and beauty ideals but also what’s important to this generation of American parents: rejecting elitism, embracing a wider variety of races and body types, putting one’s hair in a cool bun. Mattel knows that, ultimately, it doesn’t matter if children are content to play God with any small humanoid figure; they’re designing kids’ toys for adults. Adults are the ones with credit cards, after all. You’ve got to give them what they want. And what is that in the United States of 2017? A thickset myopic Asian Ken.

[creepylittlemarvelgirl]

Just some thoughts of a real disturbed person

Hey! My name is Domi, and I suffer from major psychic deseases, such as anxity, depression and self destructive tendencies.

Trying to live a normal life is harder for someone like me than for average people. And I can’t help myselve anymore.

I’m too anxious and mistrusting to talk to doctors and my so-caled friends left me all by myself, misundestanding and disapproving, thinking I’m weird because I’m too sensitive… I feel all alone in this world.

My family is awesome, but can’t help me. I refuse to take pills which change my character and put my brain into a blender working at the highest level. Feels too squishy inside, feels wrong, feels just like being pulled out of myself and something else is being stuffed in, like riding a strange human-shaped vehicle with no real connection to the world around, not being able to think or feel… no pills for me…

All my ‘friends’ - those people I was at school with - are successful, have families, children or a great carrer in wonderful jobs. Someone who loves and appreciates them, or even enough money to travel, or to live well, or at least to buy health - physic and psychologic.

I’m all alone. Every one I had in my live, every man I loved left me. I used to think it was because they were too weak, but it was because I am too sick. Not only psychological but also physical.

I never had much luck in my live. Sometimes I think I consumed all the luck of my life when I was a kid. Or more precisely a tomboy. I allways tried to keep up with the elder boys, trying stunts with the bike - hell, I think I was five or six years old - oh god, I was so fearless. I never thought of consequences, I… just… sort of… DID things. Because I thought it could be fun. Other kids were fun. Being active was fun. Just doing without thinking was fun. I was in hospitals quite often to get stitched together again. Fingers, an eyebrow…but that wasn’t so scary at all.

At elementary school - I suppose - I began to fear other kids. I lived in a small district of a small village. They called it the ghetto of the village, 2 kilometers away from the main provincial town. We were outsiders, aliens, just moved here from another part of the country. We? My sister and I. We’ve allways had a tough time. But she came out of it as the winner. Me instand…I am a real loser. We both were bullied, but she is strong. I am not.

At the age of 8, the pain I felt for about 2 years in my right hip brought me to the hospital, diagnosis: congenital dislication of the hip. And the doctors telling me not to walk one more step or I will have to live a life in a wheelchair. 2 weeks later and they would never had the chance to help me. It means no sports for a long time. No jumping around. No running or riding the bike anymore.

And I got fat…and depressed. At the age of 14 the last ridge broke. No warning, no trigger, no point at which anything could be changed or be done different. Just deep sadness. Pure loneliness. The feeling of having no control over anything. And the painful fear of people, as well as the deep fear of being alone and isolated because noone seemed to care. It was the years of one of the biggest mistakes in my whole life. Rejecting my best friend - my only true friend - telling me to love me for quite a while. Stupid…hurting the only one who stepped in when the others not only bullied but beat me up.

Secondary school was a pain in the ass. The best school in the next greater town was a catholic girls school. Yay…barbies and I-am-better-than-everyone-attitudes. And more bullying. More enemies. More fear. To wake up, to get up, to lose more and more control of what will come next.

The school psychologist told me I was not ill, but there is simply nobody who likes me or cares about me. Just like that. A teen sitting across the table of the liaison teachers room crying her heart out for chists sake and all this woman told me that I am the asshole in my own sad story. And I believed it. I must have been a realy mean person, from my 4th year of my live up to this moment at the age of 16…maybe 17 years. Fuck. I was a monster because everyone hated me. Everyone despite the outsiders. The lonely ones. The weirdos. I seemed to geather them all around me. They never liked me or loved me…but they tollerated me.

After I finished school - I did my ‘abitur’, not bad for me having depression and dyslexia and poor cognitive performance because of the depression - I was too down to chose a way in live. I lost 2 years because I had to repeat. I was unlovable, stupid, a goth/punk/what ever, a kind of outlaw and I never knew what to do. To fullfill my dreams I was to weak. As a child I wanted to become a singer and actor, I was on stage in school theatre and sang at christmas plays. But for that I was too fearful. Not self-confident enough. Not good enough. I liked sewing but no one wanted to educate me so I could go to design school…to become a fashion designer. I tried to become a goldsmith, applied me to nearly every crearive apprenticeship I could think of. But no luck. Used it up as a child, remenber? So I was bold and tried to study, together with my boyfriend. I was 22. He left me shortly after we started. And I lost my courage. I was so deep in my depression…he was a gamer as well as I was…and still am. After that I started an apprentice at a medical supply shop for patients. They gave me a chance. But what a price to pay… without my next boyfriend I don’t think I would have take the chance. The second year he left me - for my best friend. I was devastated. So deep down in my depression…I wanted to die and tried to achieve this…but my sister rescued me…and took me to an asylum.

I was too smart to talk about everything in my mind. I talked about some of my fears, some of my thoughts, some of my problems, but not quite each and everything. They would have never let me go again, I’m quite sure of that. I did all the exercises I had to do and after 5 weeks I could go back home and work again. I fought…again…and again I won. But this struggle exhausted both my last bit of luck and cosmic favor AND my last fighting spirit. I simply never wanted to be forced to fight anymore. I was so tired.

My life went on. My friends who saw what heappened and pulled me out of my deep hole of sadness and disgusting self-pity are long gone now. I never gained the trust too love somebody or to let somebody in again. I am still a lonely child, stuck in a hostile world. About 7 years has passed. And I got nothing quite to live for. I loved to sew, to paint, to tinker, to collect…but I never seem to have enough energy to do both, to live AND to work. My work consumes all my energy.

I cry allot. In the evenings, when my brain runs out of chemical messengers…out of serotonin and other body’s own happy-substances…when I’m all alone in my flat that depresses me even more. The low ceilling, the missing sunlight, the location too far away from my work place. I don’t even have a pet being allergic to cats, dogs, rabbits, birds…and I love animals so much…

Why I write this? I don’t even know! Perhaps because it is much easier to write to an anonymous audiance than to speak to 'friends’ who you know never will understand a thing…a word…and you know will say: don’t be so sensitive! Stop whining! Are you like 4 or what? …I think I write this because I know there are others like me, struggelling every flarking day to just stay alive because of all the problems, the downs, the sorrows, the anxity, the depression…we love life. And some people just see crybabies whining… sure, could be worse… could be homeless, hungry and… well deadly ill… but who says I/we am/are not? I’m living in a cruel world without anyone who wants to provide a shelter. I’m hungry for love and paitence and hugs and cuddling kittens and puppies and the man I love… if there even was one. And having suicidal tendencies IS a fucking deadly illness despite everyone thinking it isn’t. So go fuck yourselfe! We are no crybabies, we are strong BECAUSE we still live! And we simply don’t know how long we can affort the strength to stay alive. That’s just tha way I feel. One girl (or rather a women despite me feeling like a teen anymore) out of 7.5 milliards of human beings. Who knows. perhaps someone will read this. and cries. And smiles. And fells accepted and undestood.

I don’t know you, but you are stong and wonderful. Stay alive and kicking. I know you can. I hope you can.

Love and appreciation from a real disturbed person

[noona-la-la-la]

The Fitting - Part 10.5 / Bonus Chapter -- Jin’s story

(After you turn down Jin’s offer for sex, he finds someone else to occupy his time.)

Warnings:  Side story in the universe of The Fitting.  Meaningless sex with a shallow guy.  Explicit.  Thanks to @amandaxohugnkiss.

Jin figured hitting on you was a long shot, but he had to give it a try.  He had a weak spot for girls with nice tits and he had been thinking about how good it would feel to get his hands on yours since the first day you started working at the company.  If it wasn’t for Jungkook’s stupid crush on you, he would have tried to hook up with you sooner, but the maknae seemed overly attached to you and always got pissy whenever anyone else started talking about how hot you were or speculating what you might be like in bed.  Jungkook wasn’t like that with other girls; in fact, he was happy to play along and talk about how nice it would be to bang this girl from work or that girl from an idol group, but whenever the talk turned to you, Jungkook got protective and insisted that everyone treat you with respect. Jungkook’s protectiveness of you had gotten worse in recent weeks, so everyone agreed that talk of you was off limits until Jungkook got over his crush.  Jin wondered when Jungkook was going to finally grow up a little and start taking advantage of his status as an idol and the ability to have sex with all kinds of women instead of pining away for a woman who would never give him the time of day.

When Jungkook finally showed signs that he was losing interest in you, Jin didn’t waste any time and wanted to make his move on you right away.  He knew all of the guys would try to seduce you eventually and he wanted to be the first to get you into bed.  When you rejected him, Jin assumed he had moved a little too quickly and decided to back off until he could try a new approach later.

In the meantime, Jin was still horny and looking for some action for the night, so he immediately started looking around the club for pretty girls he could work on.  There was a group of three girls dancing together on the dance floor, one of whom was extremely good looking, so Jin just inserted himself into their little dance circle.  Things were going pretty well, until some really tall guy showed up and wrapped his arms around the girl Jin was interested in; apparently, she had a boyfriend who showed up late to the club.

He then moved on to a scantily clad woman at the bar.  He chatted with her in broken English for a while; she pretty quickly asked him if he wanted to party back in his hotel room and then proceeded to hint at what a party might cost.  Jin realized that she was a prostitute and made a mental note to see if she was still available for business later, if he couldn’t find anyone else to take back to his room tonight.

Next, Jin took note of four women dancing together on the far side of the floor.  He slowly danced his way across the room, noticing that they were very well dressed in designer clothes and wearing expensive jewelry. All of them were attractive and as he got closer, he could hear one of the women speaking in Japanese. “Jackpot!” Jin thought to himself. Japanese tourists out looking for a good time, no long-term consequences from a one-night-stand and any one of the four looked perfectly fuckable.  Jin was sure that he’d be able to convince at least one of them to sleep with him.  He smiled and pulled out his best dance moves as he approached, but much to his chagrin, the four of them closed ranks, turning in closer to each other to try to block him from entering their circle. Jin assumed it was just a mistake at first, but when he tried again from the other side, they walked off the dance floor, ignoring him completely.  Jin stopped dancing and stood there looking confused by what just happened, when he turned to see Taehyung and Sangcheol standing at the edge of the dancefloor laughing and pointing at him.  Jin walked back towards the bar passing his laughing friends as he stepped off the dance floor.  

“How many women are you going to hit on tonight before you give up?” Taehyung asked him.

“It’s not my fault that those last ones were lesbians.  How was I supposed to know?” Jin responded.

Sangcheol choked on his drink and Taehyung wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes, “Yeah, lesbians. Sure, that’s the reason they ran away from you.”

Jin went back to the bar and ordered a drink.  He nursed his wounded pride over a scotch on the rocks while he thought that maybe he should find out exactly how much the prostitute would charge for a basic blow job, but when he looked around the room again, he saw her walking towards the exit on the arm of another man.  “Looks like I’m going to be fucking my hand tonight,” Jin mumbled.

He sat on the barstool looking out at the crowd.  Not too far away, Jin noticed Jungkook and Hoseok talking; Jungkook motioned towards the girl he had been making out with earlier, who was standing alone against a wall, fussing with her hair and dress.  Hoseok reached into his pocket and tried to discretely pass something small and square to Jungkook.  “Is he giving him condoms? Goddamn Kookie, you’re actually getting laid tonight, aren’t you?” Jin said aloud, to no one in particular.

Jin’s eyes drifted across the crowd until he noticed two women kissing each other near the dj booth. He squinted his eyes to try to see them better and was surprised to recognize them as two of the Japanese women who had walked off the dancefloor to get away from him a little while ago. Jin stood up in shock and pointed at the women, he saw Taehyung standing about 20 feet away and tried to meet his eyes, yelling across the crowd, “LESBIANS!  I TOLD YOU!”  Taehyung didn’t seem to hear Jin, but the pretty woman sitting two stools down from him noticed his shouting and pointing; she rolled her eyes in disgust before walking away.  “Whatever!” Jin called after her, “You have no idea what you’re missing out on!”

Settling back on the barstool, Jin stared into his drink and contemplated what he should do next. During a lull in the music, Jin could hear a woman’s voice yelling angrily in Korean.  He turned his head to see where the voice was coming from and saw a couple arguing near the entrance to the club.  The music picked back up and Jin could no longer hear what they were saying, but the man looked stoic and disinterested while the woman’s arms flailed wildly as she spoke, her face getting red and her eyes starting to well with tears.  When the woman paused to try to calm herself, the man said something to her leaving her eyes wide with shock and her mouth hanging open.  The man reached out to try to embrace her, but she pushed him away violently.  That’s when the man stormed out of the club, leaving the woman behind, her arms crossed defensively across her chest while she stared blankly towards nothing in particular.

A few moments later, the woman took a deep breath and made her way to the bar, sitting several seats down from Jin.  She was unnaturally pretty – her hair was long and straight, her cheeks round and her chin pointed, her nose bridge was high and the tip turned up appealingly, her legs were unusually long, her nails perfectly manicured, her breasts were surprisingly large for her lithe frame.  “Plastic,” thought Jin, “She looks like more like a doll than a human.” The idea of this woman as a doll amused Jin and he started wondering what kind of doll she would be. “Baby doll… Barbie doll… sex doll…”

Without even thinking about it, Jin walked down towards her and seated himself on the stool right next to her. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, while motioning to the bartender.

She looked at him, confused at hearing a man speaking to her in Korean while in Thailand, but shrugged her shoulders.  “I’m not exactly in the mood for company.”

“I saw you fighting with your boyfriend over there.  It looks like you’ve had a rough evening, so you deserve a free drink at the very least. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to.”  The bartender arrived in front of them and Jin addressed him, “The lady would like a…” turning to her he asked, “What’s your poison?”

“Gin and tonic,” she answered.  The bartender set about making the drink while she turned towards Jin.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Really?  So what was the argument all about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied.   The bartender set her drink in front of her and she downed it in one shot.  Jin asked the bartender to make her another.

She sat there quietly, sipping on her second drink for a while before finally speaking.  “I’m a model.  I came here to shoot a swimsuit calendar with a couple other girls.  The man you saw me fighting with is the photographer.”

“So… it was a business disagreement?” Jin asked tentatively.

“I slept with him last night.”  She took a big swig from her drink, “And this evening I caught him fucking one of the other girls in the bathroom.”

“The bathroom here?” Jin’s eyes were wide.  

“Yep.  I walked into the bathroom here to freshen up and there they were, his pants around his ankles, her sitting on the counter, legs spread.  They didn’t even have the decency to lock the fucking door.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Jin gave her his most practiced look of concern, but in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but be impressed that the photographer had managed to nail two models in two nights.

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Don’t do what?” 

“Don’t feign sympathy. I’m not as dumb as I look.  The only reason you are sitting here with me is because I look like an easy mark.  A girl on the rebound, in need of comfort from the arms of another man.”

“You forgot the part where I’m also here because you are exceedingly hot and that I’d probably be trying to hit on you even if I hadn’t seen you fighting with that guy.”  Jin noticed her grin slightly at his last comment.

She swiveled on her stool, turning to look directly at Jin, while still sipping on her drink.  Her eyes grazed over his body, noting his good looking face, broad shoulders and nice body.  “Are you staying at the resort?”

“Yeah.  It’s my last night here.  I fly back to Seoul tomorrow afternoon.”  Jin tried to look at her face when speaking, but couldn’t seem to stop his eyes from lingering on her chest, her ample cleavage on display from the low cut v-neck of her dress.

“I’m staying at the resort as well.  Would you prefer to have sex with me in your room or in mine?”

Jin coughed, shocked at her boldness.  “Aren’t you moving a little fast? Most girls would make me work a lot harder than this.   I don’t even know your name.”

“Would knowing my name really make any difference to you?” she inquired.

“Not really.  It’s just how things are normally done.”  Jin finished his drink and set the glass on the bar.

“You can just call me ‘Girl on the Rebound’.”  She took the final swig of her gin and tonic and ran her fingers through her hair, enticingly.

Jin handed his credit card to the bartender to close out his tab and extended his hand to the woman, “Nice to meet you Girl on the Rebound.  I’m Jin.”

 The minute they made it through the door of Jin’s hotel room, Jin could hear the sound of Jungkook’s headboard banging against the shared wall between their two rooms.  Jin smiled; he loved the sound of other people having sex, it ignited his lust even more.

Jin pulled the woman he brought back to his room into his arms, pressing her tightly against his body and grinding his hips into hers .  He leaned down to kiss her, rudely inserting his tongue into her mouth, holding the back of her head in place.   His hands slid down her back until he could grab her ass with both hands, squeezing the firm, round buttocks.

“I can’t wait to see what your ass looks like,” he told her.

Pulling away from him, she turned her back to him and slowly lifted her dress until her buttocks were fully exposed, only the barely visible black fabric from her thong interrupted his view.  “Yoga, 4 days a week and the best butt lift money can buy,” she said.  “My ass and my tits are my money makers, and I make a pretty good living off of them.”

Jin was again taken aback by her forwardness and bluntness.  He was used to having to woo and cajole a woman into showing him her body, but this was new territory for him.  He knelt down so he was eye to eye with her butt and without warning, bit her. She squealed in surprise, but did not pull away.  Jin licked the place where he bit her while his hands continued to massage the expanse of flesh on her backside.  His finger traced the line of her thong from the crest of her ass, down her crack and underneath to her pussy.  His hands reached under her and started rubbing her cunt, trying to place extra pressure to the spot where he thought her clit might be.  She moaned encouragingly.  While still rubbing her pussy from behind, Jin stood up and asked her, “When do I get to see those tits you were bragging about?”

“Unzip me and I’ll show you.”  Jin reached up to lower the zipper on the back of her dress.  She turned to face him and let the dress fall from her body, showing him that she wasn’t wearing a bra.  Her boobs were round and firm, they sat high on her chest and seemed to defy gravity, despite their size and heft.  Whoever her plastic surgeon was, he had done an excellent job.  

While looking directly at Jin, she licked her fingers, dampening them, before circling her nipples, making them stand erect.  Jin couldn’t help but grab her tits, pushing her breasts together while burying his face in her cleavage before moving to wrap his lips around her nipples.  He licked and sucked with abandon, alternating sides, while she stroked his hair and sighed with approval.

“When do I get to see what you have to offer me?”  She reached down to rub her hand along the front of his jeans.

Jin pulled off his shirt first and started to undo his jeans while she ran her hands over his pecs and down his abdomen.  He slid his jeans and underwear down his legs, freeing his manhood, which stood partially erect.  She gripped it tightly in her hand and, without asking, she dropped to her knees and immediately started sucking on the head of his cock.  “Holy shit!” Jin moaned.  “You really don’t waste any time!”

“What’s the point in waiting?”  She looked up at him before extending her tongue and licking him from the base of his shaft up to the tip and then wrapping her lipstick stained mouth over the tip and sucking him further into her mouth until he could feel himself hit the back of her throat.  She bobbed her head in time to the sound of Jungkook’s thrusts and the squeaks of his mattress.  The effect was maddening.

After several minutes, the pounding of the headboard next door stopped and Jin could hear Jungkook groan loudly.  He was amused at the thought of Jungkook emptying his balls into that girl he met only a short while ago.  Jin was looking forward to doing the same thing very shortly.

Wordlessly, he pulled her up from her position on the floor and lead her to his bed.  He stood over her body as she sprawled out against the mattress.  Jin slipped her panties off and studied her naked body carefully.  She was blemish free, no scars, freckles or moles to be seen – and all traces of body hair had been meticulously removed, leaving her completely smooth and bare from her chin to her feet.  Jin couldn’t help but think that she really did look like she might be made entirely of plastic and again envisioned her as a doll… definitely one of those life size sex dolls you can order.

Jin lowered himself between her legs and spread her pussy lips apart, inserting his tongue into her hole and then licking up to her clit and back again.  He repeated the motion several times, glancing up towards her face to see if it was having any effect on her, but she remained laying there with her hands behind her head, eyes closed, motionless.  Jin decided this must not be working for her and took another approach, focusing solely on her clit, licking vigorously against it.  She propped herself up on the bed and looked down at him, her eyes showing no particular emotion.  Jin inserted a finger into her vagina and wiggled it around in an attempt to further arouse her.  After a couple minutes, he could sense her growing slightly wetter and inserted a second finger, curling them upwards and rubbing where he thought her g-spot might be.

“Harder,” she said.

Encouraged, Jin began thrusting his fingers into her forcefully.  He heard her sigh appreciatively and he started to feel bolder. With his fingers still insider her, he crept up to her breasts and lowered his head to take a nipple into his mouth.  He suckled at the proturberance, circling it with his tongue.  She arched her back slightly and Jin took that as a sign that he was doing a good job, so he decided to put more energy into her breasts and grazed the nipple with his teeth – she immediately pulled away.  Jin knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed that she wasn’t responding positively to all his efforts.

“Maybe you should start putting that cock to good use,” she advised him.

Jin pulled away from her and walked to where his pants lay, crumpled on the floor.  He reached into the front pocket and pulled out the condom he had put there before heading out to the club.  He always had a condom on him, just in case he had the opportunity to fuck somebody on the street unexpectedly.  It never actually happened, but he liked to be prepared.

He slipped the condom on and crawled up on the bed, kneeling between her legs.  “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me your name?” Jin slapped her clit with his erect dick while he waited or her response.

“No.  And to tell you the truth, I’m kind of wishing I didn’t know yours.”

“You say that now, but you’ll be moaning my name later,” Jin said with confidence.

“Just fuck me already.” She wrapped her legs around Jin’s torso, pulling him closer to her in an effort to get him inside her body.  

Jin wasted no more time and pushed into her until he was buried completely in her pussy.  She felt warm and tight around his cock; he wished he could take off the condom and feel her wetness, but it wasn’t worth the risk.  He thrust into her over and over again while she reached up and grabbed on to his buttocks, digging her perfectly polished nails into the flesh of his backside as if she was holding on for life.  

He looked down at her picture-perfect face, with her eyes staring off, deep in concentration, her mouth slightly open.  She looked like a magazine cover, almost as if she had been air brushed in real life. Jin’s eyes skimmed her body, her proportions were perfect, her skin was flawless, her flesh was firm yet soft. Jin thought about how he would brag later about having nailed a bikini model and the other guys would be jealous. This was every man’s dream… so why did he feel so empty?  Jin pushed the thoughts from his head and started fucking her even harder, making sure the headboard banged loudly against the wall.  He wanted Jungkook to know he wasn’t the only one to bag a girl tonight.

As the force of his thrusts increased, she began to make noises, squealing intermittently, sometimes sighing.  Jin thought she sounded insincere and wondered if she was faking it, he wanted to believe that he was making her feel so good that she couldn’t contain herself, but there was something so vacant in her face that made it seem untrue.  Jin tried to push the doubts from his head, he needed to believe this was all real in order to cum.

“You like the way my dick makes you feel, don’t you?” Jin asked the question, but they both knew what the answer had to be, regardless of how she actually felt.

“Yeah, you feel so good,” she answered, somewhat flatly.  But Jin needed more and he started pounding into her harder and faster.

“Tell me.  What do you feel?  Tell me!”  He was insistant.  He was getting so close, but he needed something more to feed his fantasy.

She looked him directly in the eyes this time and spoke, “You are so hard.  So…fucking… hard!  Do you feel how hot my pussy is?  It’s your cock that makes me feel so hot.  Give it to me! I want to see you cum!”

“Whose cock do you like fucking you?”  He could feel his orgasm approaching as she spoke and he needed her to keep going.

“Your cock.  I’m only here for your cock tonight.  Go ahead and cum, I want it!”

“Say my name!  Say it!”  He wanted to believe that he mattered for just one second.  She looked at him blankly for a moment, like she was struggling to recall what his name was.  “Jin. Say Jin!” he added, trying to ignore the fact that anything she said would be contrived to feed his own conceit.

“Jin!  Fuck me, Jin!  I want to feel you cum!  Please, Jin! I need to feel it!”  She ran her hands down his back, over his waist and back up again.  Jin laid on her chest, lodging his chin into the crook of her neck, his face against the mattress, his hips snapping downwards against her own.  She repeated his name again, encouraging him to let go, until finally he did.  His balls contacted and released into the condom, into her, with a final thrust.  

He rolled off of her, sitting up, he carefully pulled off the condom and threw it into the trash can near the bed.  When he turned back to her, she was sitting on the edge of the bed.  “You can stay if you want.  You’re welcome to spend the night, you know?”

“Thanks, but there’s no point in staying.  I’d probably sleep better alone.”  She pushed off the mattress and gathered her clothes to dress herself.

“Did you at least cum?” he asked.

She turned and smiled at him.  “I had a nice time tonight.  You managed to make me feel less sorry for myself and I appreciate that.”

Jin tried to ignore the implication of her words.  “Out of curiosity, why don’t you want me to know your name?”

Slipping her dress back on, she paused while trying to find the right words to explain herself.  “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but tonight isn’t real.  Tonight was just some throw away sex meant to placate both of us.  I needed the ego boost after being rejected and you… well, I don’t know what issues you have exactly, but it’s clear there is something fucked up about you. Anyway, if you used my real name, I just think it might trick me into thinking that what we did tonight meant more than it does.  I needed the detachment in order to make this all okay.”  

She finished dressing and gave Jin an awkward kiss good-bye; she exited the room, pulling the door closed behind her while Jin remained lying on the bed, naked and exposed.  Just as the door shut, Jin could hear a woman angrily yelling at Jungkook, the voices too muffled for him to clearly make out what she was saying to him.  Jin wondered if maybe Jungkook should have had nameless sex too… a girl who can’t be bothered to tell you her name also can’t be bothered to yell at you.  

  Sunlight poured through the windows of Jin’s hotel room, making it impossible to stay asleep no matter how hard he tried.  He dragged himself to the shower and stood under the water for almost twenty minutes before remembering to actually wash himself.  His mouth was dry and his body felt heavy, a combination of too much drink and too little sleep. As he dried off and slipped on the hotel’s bathrobe, he thought about last night.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the woman he slept with and how she told him he was clearly fucked up.  

Jimin had told him something similar a week ago.  He said that he thought something was wrong with Jin because Jin rarely slept with a woman more than once and never more than twice.  Jin scoffed at that idea.  Jimin was always in a relationship, dating one girl for two weeks then another for a month – but he was almost never without a girlfriend, just hopping from one to the next.  Jin didn’t think that Jimin was any better than he was… at least Jin was honest that he just wanted to fuck and move on and he didn’t pretend that he was in love all the time.  Jin decided he was actually better than most guys because he wasn’t feeding women some line of bullshit.

He pulled an overpriced bottle of juice from the mini-fridge in the room and looked out the window towards the sea.  “I don’t know what everyone is talking about.  I’m fine. I fucked a swimsuit model in an ocean view room last night.  I’m living the fucking dream!”  Jin reassured himself.  “I’m sure someday I’ll want to settle down, but now is not that time.”

Stepping out onto the balcony, Jin rested on a lounge chair, closed his eyes against the glare of the sun, and listened to the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore.  In his mind’s eye, he pictured the model laying naked on his bed last night, her body tweaked and tuned to perfection.  A bit too perfect for Jin’s taste.  He couldn’t help but think it would have been better if you hadn’t turned down his offer to come back to his hotel room last night. You would have enjoyed yourself more than that nameless model chick; Jin would have made sure of that.  “That girl last night had so much plastic surgery that she probably has nerve damage and can’t really feel when she’s being fucked right anymore,” Jin said to himself.  You wouldn’t have been like that, you wouldn’t have needed to fake it.

Jin had imagined you naked so many times and he started to do the same thing again, when he heard the sound of a woman moaning in bliss.  Startled, he opened his eyes and looked around.  The voice he heard sounded so much like you, he thought he might have hallucinated it.  When he heard the moans again, Jin could tell it was coming from the balcony on the other side of the dividing wall – it was coming from Jungkook’s balcony.  “I can’t believe the kid is going at again,” he whispered.  “Good for you Kookie.”  

He leaned over the balcony trying to look across to where Jungkook was, but he could see nothing.  Instead he decided to go back to the lounger and his daydreams.  Another moan wafted across the balcony and Jin was again amazed by how much the woman sounded like you, or at least how Jin thought you would sound the many times he imagined himself fucking you.  A tube of sunscreen sat on the balcony floor where he had dropped it yesterday. Looking at it now, he had an idea to put it to a different use.  Jin untied the belt on his robe, letting the fabric fall open completely, and squeezed a large dollop of the cream into his right palm, gently massaging it over his limp dick, pulling at it and letting his hands slide over himself until he began to get firmer.

With his eyes closed, he started to imagine you as he had many times before.  This time, he pretended it was you who was in his bed last night.  You would look up at him eagerly as you sucked his cock, your eyes round and wide because you wanted to make sure you were pleasing him.  You would moan, just like the woman he heard moments ago, because you enjoyed and welcomed the way Jin would lick your pussy, crying out for him to not stop until you couldn’t take it anymore.  You would beg to have him inside you.

By now Jin’s fist was pumping furiously, the squelching sound of his cock sliding into his sunscreen coated palm reminded him of the sound of fucking… and what it would sound like to fuck you.  You would be so wet for him, wet and loud.  Your breasts would bounce every time he slammed into you, not like that woman last night, where everything stayed firmly in place.  You would be softer, your belly slightly rounded.  Your skin would have marks, freckles, scars from childhood accidents.  You would look like a real woman and not a plastic doll and you would feel like a real woman too.  Warm and inviting.  You would call his name without him asking you and without needing to be reminded what his name was.  You would tell him how big he was, how hard his manhood felt, how much you wanted to cum, and you would say it because you meant it.

Jin felt so close to his release.  If only you were really there, he thought, that would make everything perfect.  More than anything, at that moment, Jin wanted to hear you crying out in pleasure for him.  He closed his eyes tightly and tried to imagine it, when he heard the increasingly noisy moans of the woman next door being overcome in her orgasm. The sound was uncontrolled and so loud that it sounded more like wailing.  Jin imagined it was you, screaming in ecstasy because of him, until he finally reached his own orgasm.  He bit his lip to keep from shouting out and alerting Jungkook to his presence while streams of cum spurted out and landed against his belly.

He laid their quietly for a few minutes until his body stilled.  He exhaled and wished he could take a nap right now, but got up to go clean himself off.  As walked to the bathroom, Jin made a mental note to tease Jungkook later about his new found status as a sex stud.

Looking in the mirror, Jin could clearly see his abdomen stained with semen.  He was surprised at how much their was; he clearly didn’t empty his balls as much as he could have last night.  A quiet laugh left his lips as he thought about how much more satisfying this orgasm was than the one from last night.  Just imagining himself fucking you was better than actually fucking a woman so perfect that most men would have fought him for the opportunity to sleep with her.  As he wiped himself clean, Jin resolved to find a way to seduce you in real life. His desire to experience you sexually was only increasing and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he got you into his bed for real.  

[myhahnestopinion]

The Night A BUREAUCRATIC, OPEN-HEARTED NICE GUY Came Home: HOSPITAL MASSACRE (1982)

A hospital is a pretty solid choice of setting for a horror film. There’s a nice irony to a place centered around healing to be the site of a series of grotesque murders. Halloween II used this irony to great effect, to emphasize the inexorable horrors of Michael Myers’ pursuit of Laurie Strode on Halloween Night 1978. Other films such as A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors, Hellbound: Hellraiser II, and, to a lesser extent, Rob Zombie’s remake of Halloween II, also utilize this irony of transforming a hospital’s refuge into a house of horrors.

1982’s Hospital Massacre, also known as X-Ray and Be My Valentine, Or Else…, is not particularly concerned with this irony. It’s far too busy being fascinated by the bureaucracy of visiting a hospital. The film is most notable for staring Barbi Benton, whose career runs the gamut in moral inoffensiveness from Playboy model to Country music star (I’ll let you decide which constitutes the low point on that moral inoffensiveness scale).  Like Laurie Strode just a year prior, Barbi Benton finds herself chased by a masked killer around a hospital, but her pursuer is far more concerned with getting the proper paperwork filed than getting his kill. You really should feel sorry for this killer though, because, well, he’s just such a “nice guy.” Why doesn’t somebody want to date him?

The film’s cold open is one that certainly matches My Bloody Valentine, another clear source of inspiration for the film, in abrupt escalation, but, hey, love just moves fast sometimes. We open on “Susan’s House,” as the film’s inter-title helpfully explains, because we all know where Susan’s house is located and who Susan is, right? Here, a young, shy boy named Harold puts the finishing touches of his hand-made Valentine, before leaving it on the doorstep. Aww, we’ve all been there, right?

Harold watches from the window as Susan takes the Valentine back to her living room, where she and her friend David laugh at it and crumple it up. Susan abruptly ends her laughing to announce, “I’m going to go eat some cake now.” It’s a sudden decision that gets her out of the room long enough for Harold to break in, and kill David. Aww, we’ve all been there, right? Right? Hello?

Susan returns to find David’s dead body on the hatstand. Huh, looks like Harold’s not the only guy who’s hung up on Susan now! Ha ha ha ha ha!

But seriously, I wonder why she doesn’t want to be his Valentine? I mean, sure, his decision to murder her best friend may have come out of nowhere, but so did her sudden desire to get some cake, so they seem perfect to me! Love thrives on spontaneity!

There’s no follow up to these events before we cut to 19 years later. That’s the origin story. One of the trademark elements of a slasher film is a villain who has been wronged in the past. Freddy Krueger was burned alive in an act of vigilante justice. Jason murders teens because they let him drown, as did his mother before him. The killer from I Know What You Did Last Summer kills because he knows what they did last summer. What does Harold from Hospital Massacre have as a motivation? He was rejected by a girl once in grade school.

You know, sadly, this is probably the most believable slasher villain motivation that I’ve ever encountered.

So, in 1980, Susan has grown up to be a successful business woman, but is still unlucky in love, having divorced her husband Tom, with whom she has a daughter. That’s about all we learn about this now adult Susan before she is driven by her new boyfriend Jack to the hospital, where the remainder of the film takes place. 

The ninth floor of this hospital is currently being fumigated, which adds some nice eerie fog to the proceedings, as well as a lot of confusion as to why characters continue to visit this floor regardless. In the first of many instances of the poor communication between this hospital’s staff, Dr. Jacobs is called up to the 9th floor, and heads there, despite it being fumigated. She is promptly murdered by a mysterious man dressed in surgical scrubs.

After murdering her doctor, the surgeon killer swaps out Susan’s x-rays with a fake pair that apparently suggest that Susan is in need of immediate medical attention. The film can’t be bothered to specify just what life-threatening condition this could be exactly. All we know is that this is a urgent condition that requires Playboy model Barbi Benton to undress so that a doctor can re-evaluate her. Proper medical procedure or gratuitous nudity? I’ll let you figure that one out.

The movie tries to justify this nude scene by throwing in some hilariously lame attempts at building tension. During the check-up, the doctor moves his hands up towards Susan’s neck. Could he be about to choke her to death? Um, no, he’s just checking her pulse and breathing and stuff. But then, he picks up a sharp needle! Could he be about to stab her to death?! Um, no, he’s just drawing blood. Also, a needle poke wouldn’t kill someone.

While Susan awaits the results of her test, the film sets about establishing its murder mystery. The film’s pitiful attempt to build up a cast of suspects for its masked killer essentially amounts to the film making us question whether all the male characters are staring at Susan just because she is played by Barbi Benton, or because she’s played by Barbi Benton and so they want to kill her. 

Could the killer be Hal, a man who is allowed to wander the hallways of the hospital drunk for some reason, and who sloppily eats a hamburger with way too much ketchup so that the film can try to briefly trick us into thinking its blood? Um, no, ketchup and blood do not look similar. At all.

Could it be Susan’s ex-husband Tom, as suggested in a brief, unresolved subplot where Susan calls her daughter and is told that Tom left their child home alone? 

Could it be handsome doctor #1, Dr. Saxon, who seems intent on keeping Susan in the hospital at all costs?

Or could it be handsome doctor #2, whose name is Harry, just like the Harold from the film’s cold open, and who acts charming towards Susan before disappearing for three-fourths of the movie? 

Huh. I just don’t know, Hospital Massacre.

While a nurse is typing up Susan’s blood work, she is killed by the surgeon, who waited behind a closet door until she finished typing, despite the fact that he just wants to swap out the blood report with another fake document. Another nurse discovers this, and is strangled with a stethoscope, so at least the film delivered on everyone’s expected hospital themed murder. 

When the doctors receive this false report, they decide that Susan needs to be kept in the hospital for observation. She is placed in the same room as three elderly women, who gossip to themselves about the ways in which Susan’s still-undefined illness could cause her to shrivel up and die. Like the fumigated floor before them, the three elderly women add atmosphere to the film, being reminiscent of the Fates from Greek mythology, as well as add a lot of confusion, particularly as to who they are and why the film spends so much time on their bickering when it could be developing a more complex mystery.

With Susan kept in the hospital far longer than expected, boyfriend Jack decides to visit her. When told by a nurse that Susan was placed under observation and that she can give him no more details, Jack mutters, “That explains everything,” in a line that was clearly written as sarcastic, but is delivered in a manner that suggest the film really does want us to forget that it can’t be bothered to come up with some possible deadly disease that Susan could have.

While waiting for more word, Jack receives a phone call telling him to head up to the floor that is currently being fumigated. There, he crosses paths with the three elderly women, who are also just randomly wandering these gas-filled hallway, before heading into a nearby room. He begins to hear a menacing whisper from a shadowy figure. “Is Susan your mistress?” the voices hisses. “Can you touch her wherever you like? In all her… secret places…?” 

Secret places? Geez, I wonder why this guy can’t get a date. Well, there’s the breasts and the vulva and associated areas, but, well, most people know about those, surgeon killer… Or are there more secret places that we don’t know about?! Gasp! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING FROM US, SUSAN??!

The surgeon steps out of the shadows and kills Jack. He then delivers a Valentine gift to Susan’s bedside. Susan awakens and opens the gift to reveal a… Jack-in-the-box. Aww, how cute! Well, more accurately, it’s Jack’s-head-in-a-box, but, hey, it’s the thought that counts. This film is really trying to one-up the other Valentine themed slasher flick I’ve covered in this series with this bit, as that one only ever had cardiac organs in its Valentine’s Day presents. Eat your heart out, My Bloody Valentine!

After receiving her boyfriend’s decapitated head, Susan runs through the hallways of the hospital screaming for help. The only people she finds, though, are three men strung up in full body casts, which only causes her to scream louder. Oh my god! It’s people who have had severe enough injuries that they need extensive cast work on their bodies! The horror! How do we know if they are even people anymore with their bodies covered like that?!

Dr. Saxon finds Susan screaming, and returns her to her hospital room. After seeing that the Valentine box now only contains a cake, he decides that Susan needs to be detained, as one of the reported symptoms of her still completely unexplained medical condition is mental deterioration. With Susan now confined to the hospital, strapped to her bed, and drugged by some non-descript pink pill designed to treat her non-descript fake illness, it appears that the killer’s plot is almost complete! What could it all be leading up to?!

The surgeon picks off some more nurses and doctors before we find out. One kill involves the killer walking slowly down a hallway towards a nurse, holding a spread-out white sheet in front of him. For anyone with a dreadful fear of white sheets, such as this young nurse, it’s a terrifying sequence. For all of you out there not scared by bedsheets, it’s, well, pretty laughable.

Finally, the surgeon enacts the final stage of his master plan. With all this planning involved, I hope its something really good! He wheels Susan to a surgical table, where he begins to caress her “secret areas.” However, the surgeon decides it’s best not to leave Susan strapped down as he prepares to operate on her. And, so Susan reaches out and pulls of the mask revealing the killer to be…

Yeah, it’s Harry. 

Well, as an irritated Harry says, “Not Harry. It’s Harold, remember?” at which point the film flashes back to the cold open where child Susan laughs at child Harold’s Valentine. Yes, this film’s twist ending relies entirely on the viewer not knowing how nicknames work.

This twist is apparently targeted at the kind of people who can’t figure out that LarryBoy is actually Larry the Cucumber… which is honesty probably more people than I expect. 

But wait! There’s more! “Harry” backwards is “Yrrah”, which is approximately the sound I scream out in frustration when having to deal with how dumb this mystery was!

So, with the killer’s identity revealed, Susan asks Harold what he wants. “What I’ve always wanted,” Harold replies, while grabbing a surgical saw. “Your heart.”

…You know, I’ve heard of a lot of elaborate attempts to win over a romantic interest before, but, well, Harold here just blows them all out of the water. Here is a man who is willing to spend 19 years, during which time he made no further effort to communicate with Susan or express his feelings for her, building up his master plan, attending medical school, getting a job at a big-city hospital where Susan lives, waiting for her to get a work-related medical check-up, waiting for her to return for the results of this work-related medical check-up, murdering her primary physician so that he can swap out her X-rays for fake ones, murdering a nurse so that he can swap out her blood work for another fake, building up enough of a paper trail to get her placed under observation, and then finally taking her to an operating table so that he can literally, not figuratively, have her heart. 

Wow! How romantic! I mean, if it was me, I probably would have just cut out her heart without all that trouble or paperwork, or maybe just talk to her again because people’s feelings change a lot since grade school. But, hey, it’s just really sweet when someone’s willing to make such a grand gesture for the person they love. What a nice guy!

And so, after 19 years of careful planning, Harold’s master plan is undone when the three old women show up again, looking for Dr. Saxon, which distracts him long enough for Susan to stab him with a knife and run away. Yes, he would have gotten away with his elaborate murder plan 19 years in the making if it weren’t for those meddling… elderly people! Never underestimate the meddling nature of elderly people, dude!

The film then culminates with a tedious chase sequences around the hospital, ending with Harold being doused in chemicals, lit on fire, and tumbling off a roof to his death. Now that’s what I call burning love, am I right? Ha ha ha ha! Susan exits the hospital and is reunited with her ex-husband and daughter before the movie ends, because, hey, what other resolution do we need from a film with no plot and unremarkable characters.

You know, sometimes, the heart knows what it wants, and sometimes it doesn’t. Hospital Massacre does not know what it wants. Was it a Valentine’s Day themed slasher, or a hospital themed one? Was Harold meant to be a sympathetic character in that cold open, or was Susan?  Were those three elderly women meant to be comedic relief, or a deus ex machina, or did they serve no purpose at all? Was Harold’s forging of documents an elaborate plot, or was it entirely pointless? The film ultimately can’t decide on any of these points, leaving Hospital Massacre to desperate scramble to come up with increasingly absurd reasons as to why anything happens in this film at all, while always refusing to detail Susan’s supposed illness. While there’s a lot of charm from the film’s shlocky slasher nature, it really features nothing that hasn’t been done better elsewhere, such as in the hospital-set slashers mentioned at the beginning, or in My Bloody Valentine.

There is, however, one part of this film that truly stands out, and that’s Harold. His elaborate romantic gesture towards Susan is just truly inspiring. Seeing a man go through medical school and forge all that unnecessary paperwork just so he can gain the heart of his grade-school sweetheart… well, it was just really something. Hospital Massacre may be a terrible slasher, but I’ll always remember the way in which Harold’s gesture touched my heart, the most secret of all secret areas.

Hospital Massacre is available on Blu-ray and DVD.

NEXT: The Night A TRULY NUCLEAR FAMILY Came Home…