#But I know NONE OF YOU will have a problem with this post.

[respectthepetty]

I know you think having a gf thing is a joke and honestly I don't think it's a problem when bl actors have gfs or bfs, but they do get massive hate for that for real. do you know that new got so much hate for having a girlfriend? he still gets hate comments from toxic shippers that he should die for heart failure because he got heart problem? and that account that was hating on dunk was really pushing for hate. so of course it was the problem. the number one reason bl/gl actors get massive hate and death threats is literally having a gf/bf. it's a sad reality but i don't think you should treat it lightly.

I don't think this situation is a joke.

It -is- a joke.

And to show you how serious I am about this, I'm not even going to include images. This is just a giant wall of text.

Because outside of the BL-sphere, what are the repercussions of Dunk really dating a girl? What issues would he face if he was really straight? I'm going to skip over bisexuality because Lord knows half these fans don't even register that as a thing. So what harm would come his way if he was an actual heterosexual man?

Nothing. None. Nada.

If he was dating a girl, it would hurt his branded pair, but he could pivot. He could still work in other roles outside of the pair which he has done because being straight or being perceived straight isn't an issue. He would still have a job. He could even do something else outside of the industry. He'd be fine.

Because the issue isn't Dunk having a girlfriend. The issue is him stepping out on his branded pair because people are real weird about monogamy, especially when it comes to two boys because queerness actual queer people are scary to them.

So since you wanted to start with Tay and New, let me remind you that New get threats for having a girlfriend, but when Gun and Tay kissed during New's live, people went out of their way to call Gun, who is perceived as the more effeminate one, a straight up fag in the comments of his posts. Tay also got so much hate that he made a video and people's biggest issue was how could he go from such a masculine guy like New to such a twink like Gun who has never stated his sexuality. Because the issue wasn't Tay 'cheating' on his partner (with the partner literally being right next to him), but was the possibility of Tay kissing an actual gay guy.

Milk of MilkLove was rumored to be dating Noeul of BossNoeul and both of them received online hate at the mere thought they were breaking up their ships, but Noeul has received far more online and in-person hate once he started dressing and presenting a bit more effeminate than previously.

Freen of BeckyFreen was dating Seng formerly of BillySeng. The hate was ridiculous and it has followed Seng even after he departed from Idol Factory, which can easily be seen in the comment section of his posts. I genuinely feel bad for the boy, yet he still is working.

So you know who I do feel bad for all of the time? Publicly out queer folks in this industry!

Max of MaxTul dates women. People knew that and hated it because he was 'cheating' on Tul. But he still had work, and he still has work now. Because being straight does not harm people. Online hate is real. Cyberbullying is real. But Max could pivot if he wanted to like Nanon, Bright, and Win. But you know who never said he was dating anyone? The actual gay guy, Tul! And who retired from acting before he announced he was dating a man? Tul.

Cooheart has gone on record stating that being an openly gay man in the BL industry has severely limited his options. He will not be able to play a straight character because people know he is gay, so the online harassment he receives isn't because of not being faithful to a branded pair, but because he is actually gay, and that harassment has translated into him getting less jobs. He cannot pivot. He is essentially stuck.

When Supanut was hanging out with Sailub, he received more online and in-person harassment because he is the openly queer man. Sailub received comments that he was disrespecting Pon per the usual, but Supanut received comments that were directed not at him just trying to break up a ship, but about him being queer. People were equivocating him to being basically a gay hussy, who just wanted to wreck all the ships, which makes me very interested in what fan interactions will look like once I'm the Most Beautiful Count airs.

Daou gets lots of comments about disrespecting Offroad by hanging out with other guys, but the comments that really upset him were the ones saying HE WAS DISGUSTING FOR POSSIBLY BOTTOMING! Offroad stays quiet mostly, but he was bothered by people saying he was BULKING UP TOO MUCH AS A QUEER MAN!

I'm not even touching Mew and Gulf, but only one of them was labeled a predator and it wasn't the straight one!

So just because some of y'all want to take Joong liking a post about Dunk having a girlfriend seriously does not mean I need to. The online harassment is disgusting because people have parasocial relationships with actors who are simply doing their jobs, but I am not going to sit here on Tumblr dot com slash Respect the Petty and entertain this made up drama that stemmed from Joong liking a post about Dunk being perceived as a straight guy when openly gay people are being significantly more harassed, targeted, and limited for being gay in an industry that profits off of gayness.

Take all this energy you have for me and meet me in the My Sweetheart Jom chat on Friday, so every time someone mentions how Saint isn't believable in his role because he is a 'bottom,' you can give them the same lecture you want to give me about the seriousness of online harassment and its real-world repercussions.

Kay? Okay!

[applejade]

Babydoll

Authors note: This is the intro to the Sugar mama!Sevika smut im going to post. I also named the fic after a song by Girlicious so if you want to listen to the song and/or playlist i listened to while making it, you can here. I also put links for the fits (ignore that Sevika’s fit is described as burgundy but the picture isn’t - just pretend it is🙏🏾) Warnings: the second part will be smut but this can be read on its own, reader is a gold girlie

Working a 9-5 for $17 an hour is not where you thought you'd end up. It's not like you're falling behind. You're in your early twenties - many people your age are working minimum wage jobs but it feels like everyone else is better off despite making the same amount of money as you.

All your friends are going out to parties, going to the beach and traveling while you're stuck in your hometown's college working all summer. You work at a small coffee shop not too far from your parent’s house (that you’re still living in). You do your work because you need the money but you know deep down you're destined for better.

Sevika walks in one day - expensive watches and bracelets on her arms and an even more expensive prosthetic hidden under her fancy suit. You feel a subtle pang of envy but an obvious feeling of desire. You can't tell whether it's for the woman or the luxuries she has but you ignore the feeling regardless.

A large black coffee is what she orders and you get to making it. Sevika watches as you rush around the little coffee bar and a pretty face is all she registers. You hand her the coffee with a quiet “Enjoy”.

A pretty face and a sweet voice.

Nevertheless, she has somewhere to be so she thanks you and swiftly walks out the door.

In a hurry to get to her white collar job you suppose.

You watch as she walks out the door and silently hope you’ll see her again.

The next day, the fancy lady comes by again at the same time with a slightly bigger order. This time, once you hand her the coffee and muffin, she speaks to you.

“What's your name, pretty girl?” She asks and you answer as flirtatiously as you can.

She smirks as you eye her shamelessly. Usually her steely gaze makes girls nervous but you show no fear.

She sees potential in you. Despite your simple attire she notices how you dress it up. Cheap gold bangles and beauty supply hoops. You make do with what you have and you do it well.

So she decides to keep coming. She wants to give you better. Real gold and brand-name clothes. She becomes a regular very quick and you develop a crush on her just as fast.

This isn't her first rodeo. She knows how to woo a woman and she knows how to spoil one too. The only problem she has is the lack of women her type.

She's been on many dates and been in many relationships but none of the girls were what she truly desired. All coy smiles and sweetened words. None bold enough to say what they truly want.

But she knows you could be what she's looking for. She's so tired of the fake shyness and childish act. She wants someone to be upfront with her.

After a good week or two of coming to the shop and subtle flirting, she asks you out. Of course you say yes and she asks for your address to pick you up from. Yall exchange numbers and you go to sleep with a smile on your face that night.

The day of the date comes and you text her and ask what you should wear.

“Just put on something pretty for me” She texts back so you take that as a sign to dress a little bit fancier than usual.

You suspect she's taking you somewhere high-end since her style is so luxe so you dress in a long brown backless dress that hangs low in the front.

You try to keep it simple but you end up going a bit overboard with the gold jewelry. For an outfit made on a budget, it doesnt look cheap at all and when sevika pulls up to your house you feel very satisfied with your choices.

Your jewelry jingles and your heels clack as you sashay to her car. She steps out of a sleek black bugatti. Neat hair and a tight burgundy suit opened just enough to show a peak of her cleavage and a thin gold chain.

You grin and look her up and down “Hey, big mama”

“Hey, baby” She takes your hand and spins you around to see your whole fit. “You look beautiful, dear.” Her words are surprisingly devoid of lust.

She looks at you with an air of adoration and you thank her with a soft smile.

“You do too.” You say and she lets out a quiet scoff. “I don't know if beautiful is the right word for me, doll.”

“You are!” you protest “What? You think you're too big and bad to be pretty?”

She chuckled bashfully, averting her gaze and opening the passenger door. “Just get in.” She says and you giggle as you step into the car.

You ask where exactly she's taking you once both of you settle into the car and start rolling.

“You'll see” is all she says.

She pulls up to an opulent looking bar. Sensual jazz and warm dim lighting creates a romantic atmosphere as yall walk up to the hostess. The lady leads yall to a secluded table with menus.

“I dont think ive ever been in a place so fancy.” You say once the hostess leaves.

Sevika smirks “That's unfortunate. A girl like you belongs in a place like this."

You wipe pretend tears from your face “I know, right. It's devastating.” You sniffle playfully.

The two of you laugh softly and look at the menu to decide what to get. The place is so rich the menus don't even have prices- it's just a given that whatever you get will be insanely expensive.

You realize that all of the dishes are in french and get a bit worried. Not even the chicken tenders are pronounceable for you.

“Have you decided?” She asks. She knows you're confused, she just needs an opening to take over.

“Umm. Not yet.” you say, not yet wanting to admit that you have no idea what anything is.

“How about I just choose for you?”

“That would be great!” You sigh happily, closing your menu and letting her make the decision.

When the waiter comes, sevika orders some kind of french pasta for you and a bottle of expensive wine.

The two of you talk about everything. About your struggle, about her work, about your inclination to luxury and her search for the right person to provide for.

Towards the end of the dinner she gently takes your hand and gets to the point. “You know I like you, doll and I hate to see you not living the life you deserve. I want to give you better - if you'll let me.”

Your face contorts into a frown. You do know she likes you and you like her too. You just thought this could turn into a simple relationship but now it doesn't seem like y'all are on the same page.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I could make things like this a regular occurrence for you. Buy you whatever you want, whenever you want-“

“For what in return?” You cut her off with a firm voice “I know how this sugar baby stuff works, Sevika. I'm not about to be your personal prostitute, if that's what you're asking.”

“Of course not. That's not what I'm asking. I expect nothing from you in return, only that we continue to see eachother like this.”

You sit in contemplative silence for a moment. Brows still furrowed.

“So you'll just- give me money and I don't have to do anything?”

She huffed out a small chuckle “Exactly. You can quit that little job of yours and be mine.”

You stare at her in disbelief. This sounds almost too good to be true. A beautiful, rich woman wants to throw her money at you for nothing but some dates and a relationship?

There has to be some kind of catch.

“You don't have to decide right now.” She pulls her hand back - noticing the mental acrobatics you're having to do in order to process everything.

She calls for the check while you stare into the void. She then stands and puts her hand out for you to take. The two of you leave and walk to her car.

The journey back to your place is quiet save for the soft tune playing on the radio.

By the time Sevika pulls up to your house, you've made your decision.

You're tired of being broke. An opportunity like this could change your life. You know it might be dangerous to depend on another person like this and it is a bit suspicious that she chose you when she could really pull any girl in the world. You've seen the true crime documentaries - you know how badly this could turn.

But Sevikas not a man and despite only knowing her for about a month, you really trust her.

And you need her money - badly.

Sevika gets out the car to open the door for you and yall walk up to your door. Before she can say anything you blurt out your decision.

“I wanna be your sugar baby” And Sevika smirks like she knew you couldn't deny her.

[honeyhonest]

Here's another request~

But if it bothers you that I sent you more, I'll understand orz

A story about the first time Yuu and Fellow had sex. Was it good? Bad? Was there consent? Were they in love? And what about the first kiss? Did they have a room?

-Neo

"was there consent" you know me toooo well. honestly and truthfully I can imagine a thousand first-time scenarios for these two, it's all very dependent on the yuu. buuuuuuut... who am I to deny a little dubcon for this guy? it's always so deliciously in-character for such a scummy man

minors get blocked, 18+ interactions only

✧˖°. to fib

warnings: gn afab!reader (you/yours pronouns), reader is ADULT yuu, DUBCON (coercion, intimidation, stalking kinda) proceed with caution, penetrative sex, post-playful land, pussy/cunt/clit all used, "slut" and "whore" directed towards reader, creampie, fellow calls reader a virgin but it's not confirmed, vaguely dissociative, obviously evil sex blah blah, not proofread FUCK IT!!

characters: fellow

length: long wtf where did these words come from

It had really all felt like a bad dream.

Unlike the fire lotus ordeal in October, which had been the subject of many conversations between those who bore witness to the blazing inferno of flowers that spread through the appropriately-named city like a pandemic, like a plague, Playful Land had been...

...Well, it had been bad. But as if contained between the walls of the seabound vessel, the lingering fear you had felt that night had not burrowed beneath your skin, had not left a bitter taste on your tongue and in your throat. You had been combed through by overblot after overblot, balls of fire and winds of poison that had left marks visible on your body for all the world to see.

Not even the wood grain of Playful Land imprinted itself on your softened skin; it was truly as if nothing had ever taken root there in the first place.

The small group of classmates that had been with you, wrists bound in a line, until they went limp and hard and knocked together like the colorful blocks of a mobile in the wind, well, none of them wanted to talk about it.

"Weird," Ace, distinctly, had said, "Just weird."

Unlike the shriveled fire lotuses, the eternal penance and unpayable fine of Rollo Flamme's punishment, there was no place on the intricately detailed paper map of Professor Trein's classroom wall to put a pin in; Fleur City remained unchanged, its borders hardened by time and wars fought long before your tenure at Night Raven College, and with them, Rollo Flamme. Contained between the stone walls of the city that he lay prisoner of, you had, as Malleus Draconia had unnecessarily reassured you, nothing to fear of him.

There was a place, a date, and a name to what happened there. Azul still mumbled under his breath about the malady of breathing problems the ash of the fire lotuses and the stairs to the belltower had left him, though with no noticeable venom in his voice. Malleus still scoffed at that name, Flamme, the boy who thought he was fit to be God. Ruggie and Jamil still chuckled about things they feigned to with the others, Riddle and Epel still chatted fondly and exchanged nods for their bravery, even Grim had taken to grumbling about his empty stomach when reminded of the many breads and cheeses of Fleur City.

But Playful Land was not this. It was nothing more than what it had sold itself as: an illusion. A dream. A tear in the tablecloth of time and reality, where the crumbs of haughty boys and overconfident students of arcane academies fell through.

There, simply put, was nothing to talk about.

Not that anyone wanted to, anyhow.

It crossed your mind, once or twice, though you never spoke those pedantic thoughts: in one part, because of the uncomfortable nature of the memory; in another, because any reminder of how easily fooled the Night Raven College students were would set off a terrible argument about "who's fault it was", and you hadn't the energy nor interest for that, especially after having barely dragged yourself out of Diasomnia alive this past month.

Another overblot under your belt. How many more were you expected to take?

But, as Headmage Crowley had assured you, that was all in the past- STYX will keep a sharp eye on the school for blot accumulation, the necessary funds will be delegated to recovery and prevention programs, and, after all, the school year was almost complete.

The thought of three months of... nothing was as relieving as it was terrifying. No overblots, no attempted murders, no end-of-the-world, nothing but yourself, Grim, ghosts, and...

...No home.

Three months wasted sitting around your derelict dorm, kicking rocks and waiting for the Headmage to return, as if you were some loyal lapdog for him. You had no hopes of finding your own way back- you had spent these past few weeks of school pouring over every textbook, manual, encyclopedia, ancient tome, and web article you could get your hands on, with your dutiful friends at your side.

But not even Lilia could come up with any sort of spell, incantation, potion, door, portal, or person that might help you home, and so all you were given were the palms of empty hands.

Only a few more days until you were doomed to your dorm for months.

You almost felt grateful for the interscholastic Spelldrive tournament, which would be taking place over the weekend, as it gave you more than enough to keep you moving, on your feet, and out of your own mind.

Sage's Island is packed full of tourists, rivaling teams, TV crews, family members, and fans looking forward to the days of entertainment ahead. Vil and Neige superfans pour from both schools, expecting to catch a glimpse of their biases amongst the crowds. Spelldrive enthusiasts trade tall tales of Leona Kingscholar's athletic routine, hoping they might one day follow in his footsteps. Even the locals are enjoying the food kiosks and sidestreet spectacles. You had never seen the island so full of... well, everything. People, smells, magic, life, light, entertainment. Grim has been dragging you from stall to stall all day, draining you of the measly thirty thaumarks Crowley had allowed you for souvenirs on sandwiches and cheeses and kebabs and sausage and cakes and candies and pie, none of which you've gotten a single bite of yourself, though it's not as if you mind.

You figure that Grim should be spoiled a little before the school year ends. He'll get bored of your home cooking within a week.

Best not to worry about that now.

"I smell fish! Codfish!" he announces, tugging on your sleeve with such excitement you almost tumble into a few burly spelldrive players in blue uniforms- not that Grim notices, or cares.

"We only have five thaumarks left," you remind him. "The Headmage was very generous, but- don't you want to wait for popcorn or something when the game actually begins?"

Grim stops walking in the middle of the cobblestone to ponder on that, and you have to scoop him up to get him out of the way. You plop him down on a stack of empty mango crates in the alley behind an abandoned juice stall, the paper "CLOSED" sign indicating that its occupants had likely left to grab their seats in the stadium. You should also be doing that, but Grim...

"I dunnoooo..." he starts, crossing his little paws like a tiny businessman. "What if they don't have any fish at the game?"

You sigh, slumping against the wall. "I packed tuna in the bag,"

You can predict the disgusted groans and complaints of your friends (and of all the people sitting around you) at the strong smell of cat food. It's funny, and you almost smile.

"Hmmm... fiiine," Grim gives in. You almost get your hopes up, but before you can announce you should then go grab your seats-

"BUT! I want cotton candy, too."

And there it goes, your hope dropping lower than you blood sugar levels. "But- Grim, the special cotton candy stall is at the pier. That's a twenty minute walk from here- maybe more, considering all the foot traffic,"

There he goes, crossing his little cat paws again and pouting. Damn, he's good. You're trapped, and Grim knows it- you both don't want to disappoint him, and you don't want him to pitch a hungry temper-tantrum in the stadium.

But you had really, really good seat... Leona picked it for you himself.

"Hey, there you guys are!"

Your body reacts before your mind, and cold relief flushes the cortisol out of your system. You turn to the sound of your friends, both warm-faced and smiling. Deuce has a red splotch across his nose- sunburnt. Ace must've dragged him around as much as Grim has you.

"Hey, guys,"

"The first round is about to start," Deuce says. "Didn't you say you wanted to wish the team good luck before they head onto the field?"

You shrug. "Leona wanted me to, actually, but that's- um, I just need to make a quick run into town again, can you take Grim and save my seat?"

Ace and Deuce share a look, but it's more weary than suspicious.

"Grim forgot something, didn't he?" the former sighs. "You've gotta keep it together!"

Grim bristles. "HEY! I keep it together all the time!"

You throw yourself in between them before they can waste any more breath. "I'm just making a final snack run! I'll be back as soon as I can, just save the seats and don't wait on me,"

Ace rolls his eyes, but he's never one to deny you. Especially now, knowing that it'll be a long three months before you can see them again. Deuce, always one to entertain your whims, smiles and takes Grim's paw.

"We won't wait on you, then,"

"Just keep us updated, text us in case something happens," Ace grumbles.

You sigh. "Thank you both. Oh, and here- Grim's tuna,"

Deuce shoulders the bag, looking fabulously like a middle-aged mom on vacation. "See you there, Prefect!"

"See you,"

You don't wait for them to start; you only have so much time to bus back to school, and the cotton candy stand with the disgusting tuna-flavored sugar that Grim worships is a commodity that can only be purchased at the piers. Damn it, shouldn't have spoiled him... You wouldn't be in this mess if you were capable of saying "no".

The crowds are tight for only a few minutes of walking (or, rather, shoving, pushing and pulling, being elbowed and stepped on), and then they begin to thin as more people head to the arena in Night Raven College to watch the first match. Which is both relieving and worrying- you're not so sure that some dickweed second-year won't take your seat before Ace, Deuce, and Grim can get there- the numbers on your tickets won't mean anything once you're actually inside.

The sun beats down on Foothill Town like no day before- you hadn't had a summer in Sage's Island yet, and a part of you is concerned that every day will be this hot and humid. Ramshackle has no air conditioning, after all, and the blinds are broken in most rooms.

You flick some sweat off your forehead with a swipe of your palm and keep walking, the cobblestone hard and unforgivingly hot under the thin soles of your borrowed shoes, your feet aching from how much legwork you've done today alone. You had made a promise with yourself to enjoy this weekend to the fullest, but so far, all it had been is hot, crowded, and noisy. And Grim's going to be farting up the bedroom tonight for certain.

Who even thinks of tuna-flavored cotton candy, anyway? You grimace at the thought of the smell.

The blinding sparkle of the blue sea catches your eye, and you follow that to the sound and smell of waves pushing against the white sand. The pier comes into distance, and you slip between the bars and pubs and fish markets, now somewhat unnerved by how quiet it is. There's an old man snoring in a chair on a porch, and then there are the warehouses and storage containers, and then the abandoned boats of the dock.

No cotton candy.

Damn it. They must've moved to get closer to campus. If you had gone with Ace and Deuce, you probably would've seen the damn thing...

You should text and tell them that it's not here. Grim'll pitch a fit, but there's nothing that can be done now. You make a grab for your tiny phone, and find nothing at your side but air.

Fuck. Your phone was in the bag you handed to Deuce.

You slump, defeated and sweaty and dead on your feet, against the closest surface, and then-

OW.

You yelp in pain- the tin walls are burning hot.

Whimpering in pain and cursing at your stroke of poor luck, you limp yourself into a shaded, dark alley between two buildings you can only assume are used to hold fish- based on the smell, at least. It's cool enough here, though, and you stand beside a stack of empty barrels while trying to find a will and motivation to walk back to school.

You're supposed to be having fun this weekend, but all you've felt is miserable- miserable that you're not going home, miserable that your little friends are leaving you, miserable that you shouldn't be so mad about both of those things, but you are.

No fun. No fun at all.

"Pardon, there, would you happen to have the time?"

For a second time today, you yelp like a puppy who's tail had been stepped on. Who the fuck-? You were alone just a second ago, but now there's a shadow in the morning sun at the mouth of the alley.

Embarrassed enough by your sweaty, sorry state and the pitiful sound you'd just made, you look away. "No, sorry, I... uh, my friends have my bag, so no phone. Sorry,"

"Ah. Well that's certainly a shame, I wouldn't want to miss the big game,"

You almost groan. "It's already started,"

The man, tall and too gaudily dressed for summer (you could certainly tell from the silhouette alone, who wears a three piece suit in this sort of heat?) walks further, which is, perhaps, the exact opposite of what you were hoping he'd do.

"What's got you so down, hm? Lost your ticket?"

Your focus stays on your feet, aching and sore from the half-hour of walking you had endured to come here. Should have said no...

"I'm... I'm just..." you hate how chatty the strangers here are. What does it matter to him? "Just catching my breath."

He hums, stopping beside you and sitting on one of the fish barrels without a single regard for the smell or the strange pinkish slime that seems to be splotched across them. "Hot day, isn't it?"

Great. Small talk. "Sure is,"

"Say," he says, the shadow of his face coming closer to yours, trying to catch your downturned eyes. "Have we met? You look awful familiar, but I can't place my finger on it..."

"I doubt that," you say. "I just have... one of those faces. I could be anyone."

"No, no! I'm certain we've met! I would never forget anyone so cute,"

A shiver shoots up your spine, and the shadow of a cloud passes over the alley. Time to go, you decide. Compliments from strangers have never preceded anything good.

"Well, I can't say, I've met a lot of people," you say, hurriedly pushing yourself off the wall. "My friends are waiting on me, though, so I should go."

You don't wait for a response, turning to the open mouth of the alley, away from the strange man, when you're suddenly yanked back by the neck of your shirt. The motion is so sudden and violent that when you choke, it's more out of surprise than it is out of the force that this man is holding you by. Your fear is set off by a flicker of orange, and you're suddenly face-to-face with someone you most certainly have met, and had hoped you never would again.

"It's wrong to fib. Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"

You swallow dryly, held by the scruff of your neck like a disobedient kitten by none other than the former manager of Playful Land, that place you never thought of, never spoke of.

"I-I don't-"

"Tch, come, now. I'm uneducated," Fellow says, using his free hand to tug on the tie of your uniform. "Not stupid. Just save the seats, don't wait on me!"

He trills in an unconvincing imitation of your voice, and then chuckles. You don't dare move, though he shoves you against the cold metal wall anyway.

"I don't have any money," you lie again, feeling the weight of those final five thaumarks in your pocket. What would the Headmage say if you told them they were stolen? Would he believe you?

Fellow rolls his eyes and lets go of your collar, dusting off his hands on his patchwork pants. "I don't want your money,"

He says that word with such disgust that you might have assumed, if you did not know him (or know him enough, in your case), that he really meant it. But he was so willing, so utterly gleeful in stripping away your personhood for a little extra in his paycheck before- what would he do for the five thaumarks in your pocket?

"Don't give me that look," he scowls. "I'm not going to kill you. Why would I? It's all water under the bridge, isn't it?"

You open your mouth, and nothing comes out.

"Besides, I could always tell you..." he gestures vaguely at your sorry state. "...Were a... special exception to the Night Raven College rule. What was it? Pity? Scholarship?"

He smiles, as if that were a funny thought, fixing your collar and smoothing over your shoulders with his dirty-gloved hands. "I just wanted to give you a scare, that's all. Maybe catch up? Laugh about old times?"

You don't say anything, but the suspicion and unease on your face is noticeable. Fellow grins.

"Were you hoping for something else? I've got time,"

You force something, anything, to fall out of your parted lips. "Th-the game,"

"The game?" he scowls. "You'll live, not seeing those pampered brats pretend to beat each other black and blue on sticks."

"But-"

"Shut up," he says, though softly, an odd choice of words if he was going for soothing. Fellow's eyes drift down your body, stiff and unfeeling, your feet frozen to the ground. He checks over his shoulder for a moment, and, deciding that there won't be any consequence for it, he grips the plush of your hip and squeezes. A strangled gasp comes from your throat, startled, not aroused, though he likes it anyway.

"Missed me?" he teases, retracting his hand if only to force you against the wall again, his fingers dancing up your side. "You know, of all those fat-faced school brats, I always found you the most..."

Fellow pauses, as if carefully picking his words.

"...Fuckable. Though that's not a very gentlemanly thing to say, is it?"

"...No," you manage.

"Cute, then," he says. "But I didn't touch you, didn't see the point in risking my paycheck for pussy- I could've done that with any town whore, anyhow. Though, that was then."

You look to the side, as if pretending to yourself that there's a way out of this. You should make some effort, at least. Then you can say you fought back and won't be so mad at yourself about it later.

"And what luck that it was you I ran into here, hm? I dare say fate is rewarding me for good behavior," Fellow smile, tapping the tip of your nose. "Maybe you, too. I bet those private school pricks don't know how to treat someone like you, hm?"

"...It's not like that," there's your voice, at least.

Fellow rolls his eyes. "Oh, sure it is. They're teenage boys- I was once one myself, believe it or not- if they're not already thinking about sticking their dicks in, they will be. Unless they're as blind as they are oblivious,"

He pinches the fat of your hip between his fingers again, laughing and leering over you.

"It doesn't take a genius to see that you were made to take cock,"

"Uh-? But I-"

"I'd be surprised if you haven't been passed around already. You know how teenage boys are,"

"N-no," you say, firmly enough for how your voice is trembling. "They're not... interested in me... in that way. Nothing's happened."

"Nothing's happened?" Fellow asks in a mocking tone, feigning shock with wide eyes and an O-shaped mouth, the look of innocence, before falling into a smirk. "Well, then- I was going to let you run off, but now that I know that, I think I should at least give you your first load before letting you go back to that spoiled rich place."

Ah, fuck.

Your eyes widen. "Um- I- I..." where are you going with this? "...Is that really how you speak to strangers?"

"No, just you,"

"...Right," you mutter. "M-maybe we should... talk about this, first-"

Fellow scoffs, though he's smiling, as if your complaints are funny to him. He presses you firmly against the wall of the alley, forcing a knee between your thighs and reveling in the wince you respond with.

"What, you don't like me? Think I'm diseased?"

You look away. "...No,"

"Well, you'd be right to worry," he mutters. "Come on, honey. Do I really look like a bad guy to you?"

You make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Oh, don't tell me you're still upset about that thing? That was months ago! I've reformed, changed! I'm an honest man now!"

"...You don't expect me to believe that-"

"I expect you to stop talking so much," he mutters, stopping his incessant petting of your side to pinch your cheek, and then squish your face between his hands. "You're too damn cute for those lazy pricks. It's a shame they haven't been using you the way you ought to be- though, I'm glad they haven't. Does that make me selfish?"

He knows the answer to that. It's hidden in his smirk, snarky though more sincere than before. He's enjoying himself, pinching and squeezing you and groping you like a stress ball.

"Just relax. It'll be over before you know it,"

Not promising, though you know he's not exactly concerned with your personal pleasure. You might as well be a porno mag or the warm touch of his palm, nothing more than something to entertain himself with.

It made you sort of dizzy, though you couldn't pinpoint exactly where that was coming from.

"...I can't keep them waiting," you murmur in a gentle admission of defeat. Fellow smiles, his fangs digging into his lower lip.

"That's alright, sweetie, that's alright," he coos. "We won't keep them waiting, will we? We'll be nice and quick."

His hand rests on the back of your head, cradling you- no holding you in a firm touch, his fingers squeezing around your neck, digging into the soft flesh as his lips press against yours. The kiss is not as brutish or bruising as you were anticipating. It is, rather, gentle, dozens of kisses peppered onto your waiting lips, pressed softly and quickly, though despite their delicacy each feels distinctly like he's stealing something away from you- your breath, your resistance, your sense of time. It's only when you've melted a little, become docile and small in his hands, does his forceful, unforgiving side return, his tongue filling your mouth and demanding yours in return. Everything to do with this man is an exchange. A kiss for a grope, a favor for a service, an eye for an eye. He forces your body closer to his with his free hand, digging into your hip and pressing you into the apex of his thigh, making you grind on him. It feels good, despite your better wishes not to enjoy this as much as Fellow is.

He pulls away, leaving the bitter taste of metal and the sting of last night's alcohol on your bitten lips, if only to use both hands in his pursuit of getting you wet enough not to tear anything. He's gentlemanly enough in that regard, you think, giving him an encouraging moan (why?) when he gently bounces his thigh under the beguiling movement of your hips.

"That's it... that's it..." he mutters, his body curved around yours in a certainly uncomfortable manner, shielding you from the world outside of his shoulders and chest. "You weren't lying, huh? They really don't fuck you at that school. You're so desperate for it, you're practically easy... taking it from a stranger... I bet your buddies would pay to see that, eh?"

"Don't want to think about them," you murmur into his shoulder.

He laughs. "Oh, but it'd be funny, wouldn't it? They'd be wide-eyed and slack-jawed, watching their cute little class crush moaning against a strange man's shoulder like a needy whore," his fingers dig deep into your hips and he forces you further onto him, the unforgiving friction sending a jolt of sensitivity through your clit. You yelp. He grins into your hair.

"I've fantasized about fucking you in that shitty control room for months. What I wouldn't have given to go back to that moment and bent you over the control panel. Would've put load after load in you- fuck,"

He stops himself, a strangled whine escaping his throat as you slide further down his thigh and push against his crotch.

"Ugh," he gasps. "Your pants, off."

It's amazing what the simplest of touches will do to him. If you were braver, and bigger, maybe you could have challenged the weak thread of authority he was clinging to- how easily it snapped the second you touched him, even if by accident. You almost wonder what else you could break in him, but that's a subject you're better off not worrying about now.

You peel off your pants, practically drenched in sweat and damp with wetness around the crotch (how you hate your excitable body) and let them crumple on the dirty gravel. Fellow wastes no time nor breath, forcing a hand between your legs to cup you through your underwear, feeling the heat coming off of you.

"Slut," he says, though it sounds more like an observation than an insult. As if he were talking about the weather.

He doesn't ask you to undress him, like some men would. He's perfectly happy with keeping his own pockets, empty as they are, far from your wandering eyes and prying hands. You almost don't want to look when he works out his cock, already erect and leaking to a comically lewd degree (and he called you the easy one...)

"It's rude to stare," he teases, even though his weak, breathy voice.

Fellow lifts one of your thighs as high as it will go, around his hip, forcing you to lean against the tin wall behind you with some difficulty. He doesn't feel the need to warn you when he's about to sink in, and so one moment you're thinking about the smell of metal lingering on your clothes, and the next you can't think of anything but the distinct sensation of something pushing between the walls of your cunt. It nearly knocks the wind out of you, though, all things considered, it's rather underwhelming. There's only the feeling of pressure in your lower stomach, and the trembling of Fellow's body beneath yours.

"Oh, f-fuck..." he mumbles, obviously having the time of his life. "Ah... fuck, damn it, shit..."

Is that how he's going to talk the whole time? Though you dare not speak; you're not sure you even could if you tried.

"...I knew it," he finally mutters, forcing more and more of his cock inside, or, rather, forcing you to take more by the firm grip he has on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"You were made for this."

Some awkward, strange moaning noise comes from your throat, and he laughs, though his own voice is breathy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Hold still," he demands, keeping you in place until he's calmed himself down enough to start thrusting, though, again, weakly and shallowly, little movements of apathetic effort, or of barely constrained lust, you can't decide.

The tiny thrusts are enough to send shockwaves of arousal up your body- you had forgotten the simple feeling of pleasure, of lust, you had been trapped in this world and this tired, emaciated body for so long. When was the last time you truly had a moment to yourself? You were always with someone, misunderstood and mistreated by the people of this world, surrounded by their smiling faces and soft hands that never quite touched you, that never felt your body as if you were a person with weight.

There was something, then, gratifying about this encounter; disgusting as he was, and as shameful as you felt, Fellow Honest did not see you as some untouchable artifact, some ugly, divine thing. You were as human as he was, as fucked up and weak and poor, as desirable as any normal person should be. Not a ghost, not a beast, not a thing, not an alien, not an angel, just a lonely, disgusting little animal who needed to be fucked like one. Deserved it, maybe. Miserable little thing you were.

Maybe you liked the attention. Maybe you liked the thought of existing outside of Night Raven College, if only for a few minutes of unprotected sex with a dangerous stranger in an alley, clit sensitive and swollen but receiving no attention as his cock twitches inside you. It's almost summer. You're not sure if you'll even exist in a few months, when school has returned, but you exist now; perhaps more than you had before.

Playful Land had felt like a fever dream; but right now, being fucked by its former manager, is the most awake you've felt in months.

In a disgusting, vulnerable, human sort of way, like an open wound.

"Fucking- mm, fuck, I'm- you want to take my load, don't you?" Fellow mutters, fangs grazing against your shoulder, threatening to sink in. "You're gonna be a good whore and let me fuck my cum into you?"

You nod, not thinking twice about it- it feels as natural as the breeze coming from the sea some ways west.

"Good, fuck, you're so good-" he stiffens, legs shaking, shoving you hard against the wall again to take some of your weight off of his own body. You can only vaguely register the warm feeling of cum filling you, or at least the feeling of it dripping out, gravity at work.

Fellow pulls away after a moment, panting weakly, though there's that smirk on him again.

"You're a doll," he mutters, wiping tears you hadn't realized you'd cried off your cheek. "What'd I do to deserve such good treatment, hm?"

Nothing. You shrug, tired despite not having cum. You don't really feel like seeing the game anymore- nothing sounds more appealing than a good nap, except for maybe sitting on Fellow's face for a few hours.

"Mmmhm," he mutters, snapping your underwear back into place when he pulls out, the red lines of friction indented in your skin where it had been forced to the side. "I haven't had virgin pussy in..."

He pauses, stuffing his limp dick back in his pants.

"...Well, ever, I suppose. A man could get used to that."

Fellow offers you your pants back, pointlessly brushing some gravel off of the front. You don't want to go through the trouble of redressing yourself, but you do. Not like you have a choice. And you couldn't say no to him, anyhow.

"Done now?" you finally ask, watching Fellow zip up his pants. He shrugs.

"Guess so. Thanks for the pick-me-up, sweetie,"

You grimace, something gross settling in the pit of your stomach as he heads for the mouth of the alley. Off to become another dream, another memory you don't speak of, a pinless location on a map.

"Wait,"

Fellow stops, turning over his shoulder, his eyebrows arched in apathetic half-curiosity, his ears perked up.

You hesitate, open your mouth, hesitate again, and-

"Do you... need a place to stay, for a few months?"

[mechazushi]

The thief better get this guard pregnant before I do.

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[brainrot-jikan]

im not the biggest alhaitham/kaveh shipper (because im a rare pair ho) but it seems to me that in alhaitham/kaveh getting-together fics tend to be... unequal.

the beautiful thing about alhaitham and kaveh is that they're both equally right and equally wrong and equally dicks about it. but the writers for alhaitham/kaveh much more frequently seem to give alhaitham the burden change (the burden of the character flaw) instead of kaveh.

in any good character arc, the main character has a fatal flaw or misconception, and by the end of that arc they have addressed that flaw in some definitive way. scrooge was a scrooge and learned that being that way was detrimental; merlin from finding nemo was overprotective to a fault and had to learn that he couldn't (and shouldn't) control everything and to let go; the wolf from little red riding hood learns that you should stop while you're ahead.

stories centering around romance tend to lean heavily on character arcs, which makes sense. and since romance generally requires two individuals to be vulnerable and open and emotional with each other, it makes double sense that alhaitham/kaveh authors zoom straight into alhaitham's lack of emotional vulnerability.

this bothers me.

in society, individuals are expected to experience and present emotions in a specific way. if someone dies, you cry. if someone smiles at you, you smile back. if you're at a party, you're supposed to be having fun. if you don't do these things, you're seen as impolite at best and a inhuman freak at worst. when these behaviors are frequent it's often viewed as emotional immaturity, or a lack of ability to feel at all. the inability or lack of willingness to conform to societies emotional expectations of you is seen as a flaw and a reason for exclusion.

alhaitham is canonically disliked and avoided for being the way he is. he prefers it this way, but that doesn't mean the people perpetuating this avoidance are in the right. they are the societal pressure to conform that alhaitham blows off. alhaitham could be the way he is for a lot of reasons: avoidant attachment style, trauma, following someone else's example (eg. his grandmother), or just his base personality. it doesn't MATTER. he is the way he is. kaveh having to accept that should be part of the story.

putting the burden of the fatal flaw on alhaitham, making the way alhaitham treats kaveh and the people around him the problem, feels invalidating. it implies heavily that alhaitham's way of interfacing with the world, alhaitham's very SELF, is incorrect. my suggestion is to flip a larger portion of that burden onto kaveh. kaveh 👏 character 👏 arcs 👏

some examples/recommendations:

- make kaveh project his insecurities onto other people but especially onto alhaitham; he's overly reliant on other people for his own self worth, and he perceives alhaitham's lack of positive feedback as a direct reflection of how alhaitham feels about him. but learns along the way that alhaitham doesn't hate him, kaveh's actual struggle is with hating himself and being unable to his own self as worthy of love. maybe throw in how you are responsible for your own recovery, other people can help but you can't rely on them to carry you through self actualization.

- or, kaveh tries to make alhaitham behave more like a "normal" person, to be more pleasant and emotive and forthcoming, and then realizes he's in the wrong for trying to make alhaitham into something he's not, possibly for all the wrong reasons (not because he likes alhaitham better like that, but bc society says that's healthier and a better/more conforming way to be)

- or you could go ahead make alhaitham's issues the main problem but they're too complicated to overcome in a short period of time, so kaveh has to accept alhaitham is doing his best in his own way and not push for unrealistic and unhealthy changes. he could alter his own behavior to give alhaitham space and time and a safe place to land.

that got sappy so it's past time for me to dip out. go forth and ship things; but maybe consider letting alhaitham be a rude stone-faced bastard if he wants to be.

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Me diagnosing any societal ill: it's about Authority

[purpurussy]

i thought i had been too loud already about how cringe I think the whole dogpiling on r/danandphil thing is but apparently i need to be louder 😔 frankly i find the "banned from r/danandphil" meme childish and grating, own up to your freak nature and stop fixating on what normies are doing on a completely different platform it's kinda weird and pointless. let them be cringe in their way and we'll be cringe in our way and we can live in peace. yeah i would get banned from that subreddit if i went over there and posted the way i do here, that's why I'm posting on here not on reddit like ????????? I truly do not understand why this is a problem just mind your business idk 😭 it really is like the meme of the guy putting a stick in his bike wheel and then blaming someone else like why are you going out of your way to create a problem. when there are already so many actual problems you could be worrying about. dpmo

[styxxsyringe]

i want to delete my twitter account so fucking bad

[marsreds]

thinking about how Mel loved Jayce in the same way her mother loved her: genuinely, earnestly and by trying to mold him into something he's not with best intentions

[spookythesillyfella]

this is probably one of the most wonderful videos ive made using capcut

★ feat : @chamom1le-t3a . @thecultoflove nd @jumjum-crafts 's tonys

[zoya-nazyalenskys]

also kinda random but where the fuck are solas' agents?? trespasser (the game and ending slides) said he had a crap ton of agents flocking to his side but now there's not even a whisper of them?

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I think I need that "Wow, I haven't stubbed my toe in five months! I was then shot fifty-seven times." Audio again

[mandizo]

woike up and remembered hiow artists are treated in chinese fandom spaces and i threw up all over the floor

[avatarkcrra]

tlt enjoyers i am so curious to know what has been occupying your mind the most during the alectopause. i for one Cannot Stop Thinking about judith deuteros.

[emberunderscore]

the mtg au only gets so much harder from fable as bolas but we make attempts (take so many pinches of salt, take multiple fistfuls of salt with all the words i say . ive been into magic lore for less than a week)

athena as chandra and jamie as nissa

havent read all of chandras lore yet but, yknow pyromancer and her wiki says shes passionate, impulsive but "she also recognizes the volatile nature of her inner fire" replace inner fire with destruction powers and boom c!athena probably

and nissa revane my GIRL !! (while i havent finished reading every single story shes ever been in yet) her whole bit is being connected to her home plane, while thats technically more plants and the earth itself i didnt think shes mom coded enough to say momboo. so i say bruin instead, and specifically bruin not c!jamie because they got more of that deltavera in they bones . honestly you might even be able to argue that ayasha (the elemental companiont nissa summons, "the awakened world") could be momboo in some way or another cause . thats literally the world of zendikar

then slightly more of a stretch and also i was busy playing stardew when i watch the video on lilianna so i only got about half of that into my brain

icarus morningstar as lilinna vess because hear me out . necromancy is something icarus would TOTALLY be obsessed with if it existed in an accesible means in fable and if we take her whole contract with bolas in war of the spark and her then betrayal i think it could *kind of* fit a little bit . also i think she had a thing where she wanted to try and bring her brother back from the dead so if we just replace that with haley .

(this could mean that centross is jace beleren which honestly, dont think hes smart enough for that , and from what ive read jace is NOT a fighter but i also put centross as penelope in the epic au and hes not smart enough to be her her either . so)

alternatively (probably if ic is not lilianna) rae could be jace beleren . really freaking smart, not a fighter, mind powers, gets tricked by bolas into releasing a terrible monster from a prison, blue

i was also distracted when i watched jace's lore video but i read like 3 lines of his wiki and im reading the eldrazai return story so i kinda have somewhat of an understanding of his character. so im actually completely right in every way