#the fact that i was like 'sexy rape is bad' and i got shit that was like YOURE POLICING OTHERS AND YOUR KINK CRITICAL ATTITUDE IS POISON

[daydadahlias]

what are some lines you won’t cross as a fic writer?

please see jessay below the cut <3 TW for discussion of SA & murder

I think this is an interesting question because I don't know if you mean, like, with stuff I'd write or attitudes in general. because the first thing that comes to mind with this is, as a fic writer, I will never engage w/ the subjects of my fics about my fics. As in, I would never want 5sos to know about my stuff and I would never want to discuss my fics on any platform in which they might be exposed to it (which is why I'm not really on twitter) because they are not consenting to reading/hearing porn about themselves. do I think the lines of rpf are blurry?? yes. but 5sos have said they don't care abt fic so I'm fine and happy to write it so long as they are not unwillingly exposed to it and I know they don't seek it out themselves.

but, if you mean like, lines I won't cross in terms in what I would write in fanfic, then I think most are ones I wouldn't cross if I were writing original fiction either.

I think the only thing that's rpf specific is that while I might write an original novel about, say, the internal monologue of a murderer bc I think the psychology of what drives a person to murder is interesting, I wouldn't write a fic about that because that would be - inherently - glorifying murder because people would automatically have a good association with the person I'm writing about (like, if I wrote Ashton as a serial killer, people wouldn't be able to get past it being Ashton) and no one should be having good associations with murderers <33

(to get ahead of the accusations bc I always expect them, "accused of murder" is not the same as writing someone who is a murderer and murders for pleasure; I would not write a fic about someone who is actually a murderer bc <33 killing should not be glorified or promoted <33 and people should not find murderers sexy thank u).

so, it's basically stuff like that. i don't want to write fics that promote truly unsavory material to an impressionable audience.

(I'm under no delusions here that a portion my readers aren't most likely teens and I don't want to be writing shit about their favorite guys that makes their brain associate bad things w/ good people and therefore makes them like or become attracted to bad things; I refuse to be part of the cycle that puts young people in dangerous sexualized situations bc they read shitty fanfic in their youth thank u).

this would also extend to writing domestic abuse between any of the guys, incest, raceplay or anything promoting racism, ableism, sexism (as in, treating one of the guys like a woman - or pointblank calling him a woman - and saying he's subordinate because of this - which people do a lot in this fandom, not to talk shit), underage smut or ageplay (or anything that alludes to pedophilia), or rape/SA in general (which would apply to sexual harassment, non-consensual touching, necrophilia, sex-pollen, dub-con, uninformed consent, statutory rape, coercion, drunk sex between strangers, etc.).

now, obviously rape is a subject I have written about so I would like to point out that there is a difference between researched, honestly addressed dark fiction that deals with heavy subjects, and writing something that purposefully fetishizes/glorifies a subject like rape.

writing about rape being bad is not the same as writing about rape being hot, even though they're both touching on the subject of rape, so let's jot that down, those of you that have no reading comprehension or critical thinking skills (and if I get an ask in my inbox tomorrow that's like "wEll yOu'vE wRitTEn aBoUt rApe BeFore" I will scream into a pillow)

however, while I'm talking, this is an opportunity to express that I think topics like cnc (consensual non-consent) are a little more nuanced than people allow them to be within this context. Like, yeah, sure, you could lay a blanket statement over everything that's "never write about rape being hot" but... I do think there's a difference between cnc and rape. so,,, while I would never write about rape being hot ever, I don't necessarily apply that to cnc (like previously discussed somnophilia or roleplay) because I think it's a different topic in general.

that isn't to say, though, that I would write cnc (bc I don't think I would ever feel comfortable doing that); it's more just to say that I don't think it's as hard a line as others and that I do think a cnc kink is valid and I'm really understanding of people that have that kink. A rape kink is genuinely a different thing and I think that should always be a hard no (as in, no one should be writing fics where a 5sos member rapes another 5sos member and then frame it as sexy; that is really fucked up y'all and me thinking that should not be a hot take).

and those are the major lines I will never budge on. no murder, no rape, no pedophilia, no abuse.

and I also think it's worth mentioning that everyone's limits as a fic writer and a writer in general are different so, no, i'm not policing or telling someone else how they should write their shit but that this is how i personally think when writing mine and I'm allowed to say whatever the fuck I want on my blog, blah blah blah, disclaimer disclaimer, if one single person tells me my kink critical attitude is ruining fandom i will roll my eyes so far back in my head i will see my own brain.

hope this all makes sense and is what u wanted <3

[wickjump]

idk if you already talked about this but what are your opinions on dreammare? Or swadmare (Fontcest for example)

(ps- I don't ship any of these)

-🇩🇪 anon

IM SO SORRY i went on a tangent german anon… ik you don’t ship these im just rambling,, no harm to u

i think incest is bad and weird and even in fiction its still gross and when portrayed as another cutesy normal ship it desensitizes people, especially younger audiences, to those subjects and can in fact make them ship it as well.

if you post dreammare art religiously, some 11yo is gonna see it, think it’s cute and ship it themselves. and then bam your weird fetish became some child’s unknowing process into a community surrounding the normalization of being sexually aroused by the rape of characters or fictional children being assaulted by adult characters. that 11yo who entered the community, who make a lot of content of their new favorite ship, will become even more desensitized to pedophillia, incest, and rape in fiction.

believe it or not, this does in fact affect reality. if all that goddamn kid sees is grown adults talking about how sexy it would be if this character was raped by a relative, that child might not feel anything is wrong with the way their uncle grabs their waist because that’s sexy, right? they may even begin having a misplaced crush. or how their older brother asks to practice kissing with them. that’s what everyone online ships and thinks is cute, and that child thinks it’s cute in art, so they don’t think anything is wrong with this.

and this is probably the most simple way of explaining it. that’s not touching on how the proship community makes people angry by promoting an us vs them mentality. “people against proshippers are puritans!” “anyone against proship is an anti, and they’re terrible people who will dox and harass anyone!” (don’t believe me? i got an ask just like this ~1 week ago lmfao)

guess what? that kid will see that and believe it. if someone tries to say what they’re participating in is weird, they’ll register that person as an anti and refuse any help. that kid will be pushed further into the community and grow up on the internet alongside it.

this isn’t my exact story, but i know this because i was basically that kid. i started consuming frans content at age ~11 (a victim of SA btw), which then developed into shipping other unsavory things, which then developed into participating in the proship community (around 2020/2019? the time when it got an established and popular name for itself). and then im fifteen years old and willing to date adults on the internet LMFAOOOOO. not fun. I don’t think this kind of shit should even be given the time of day especially on my page but i also feel like someone sending this kind of question irks me as though there was a possibility i’d say yes to liking it or whatever. also:

“What about the adults in the pro community that say they don’t support that kind of stuff?” the creator of saw probably doesn’t condone murder but if a 7yo watched it every day of his life he’d probably react a lot less to gore. a warning (which is scarcely added, when’s the last time you saw someone clarify they didn’t support incest while posting dreammare?) won’t discourage anyone. it’s still sexualized, it’s still made to appeal to an audience. that goes in one ear out the other very easily.

“What about adult only spaces in the pro community?” ignoring the fact that the proship community is mostly public on all platforms and has no way to block out minors from seeing any of their shit, kids also lie about their age.

“Then it’s the kid’s fault for lying about their age!” that is a pre-pubescent child. they will do stupid things without realizing the gravity of it all especially when being influenced by older people

I wont answer any other asks regarding if i support/don’t support proship content or ships, bc i don’t and now that i’ve given it my most descriptive and detailed reasoning for why i don’t see a reason to give other things like this another detailed response lolll

sorry german anon i know you weren’t expecting this kind of a response 😭😭😭 i just get tired of stuff like this really quickly + people like to put words in my mouth it seems. when you include your trauma with the subject pros seem to quiet down real nicely when faced with the reality of what they’re doing, which is why ive not gotten many asks from them before and very very very few harassment ones. SORRY AGAIN THOUGH!!! have a good night 🙏

tldr:

no i don’t like incest.

[abri-chan]

tw: mentions of rape

can anime stop romanticizing or making light of the situation of women during historical times?

yes, i would totally fall in love with a guy i was assigned to marry. and if i already loved him, i would totally be fine with him having 2 more wives. respecting me? haha you so sexy, just keep dumping trauma on me and use me as your personal therapist, this is very funny lord tengen, i really give a shit about your self-hatred.

totally normal human behavior here, it’s not like i’d kill this guy and then run away, or kill myself if i couldn’t. it’s not like all the wives would resent each other. it’s not like even as a demon slayer i would take kill this guy on some mission when i got the chance and blame it on a demon.  

(but he is very handsome you see, and women like shallow things like chads you know. i don’t buy the whole nice guy scenario where he doesn’t touch these women, because he shouldn’t have married at all, and if he did to help these women, he should have left them alone afterwards, but he keeps boasting about how he has three wives... i’d like to see one of these wives take two husbands, or three, and see how tengen or anime likes that)

similar bad taste with the whole red district situation. yes it acknowledges that these women are in debt and have to sell their bodies as a result. but the abuse they suffer through is made to be by other bitchy concubines, women in the same position, and otherwise, everyone is fine and dandy. not like the largest abuse is done by the male customers or something--paid rape bc they can’t fucking escape, and if they could they’d be brought right back or have nowhere else to go. no matter how kind and pleasant these women are portrayed, and how that bullshit of running away because of true love is shoved down our throats... surely it is true love that makes them run away with some man. or spring with joy when a customer decides to marry the rare few. it must be love, and not rationalizing that serving and getting raped by one man is better than getting raped by 100...

(idc about your polyamory modernity, if it was true equality you’d see a woman with 3 husbands in the same show, or equal representation, 50/50 of women with multiple men across shows, but you don’t. it’s the same patriarchal bs repackaged in flashy clothes. the amount of doors this leaves opens for this guy to cheat on his current wives while out on missions, and justify it as looking for a fourth wife, i guarantee you those women, historically or not, would not be allowed to do the same--men would be shitting themselves. and the fact that they probably have to take care of his estate and all, free physical labor and free therapy and free sex for this guy--any memory or flashback we get is of how they have to comfort his ass, i can’t)

[navree]

Just wanted to say how much i love how you write talia!! it feels like it's been impossible to find fics with her that aren't filled with the same racist bullshit writing she's been stuck in comic since grant morrison ik you havent written her much but it's just nice to read a jason fic that isn't insane about her!

Oh thank you so much!

Yeah a lot of Talia's modern portrayals really piss me off and I honestly just reject a lot of it, there's no universe in which I'm gonna agree with the decision to have her rape both Bruce and Jason ("oh amelie it was consensual" a very adult woman fucking a sixteen year old who is not only not in his right mind but entirely reliant on her for his very survival is in no way consensual shut the fuck up), especially with the tropes surrounding hypersexualizing brown women that those kinds of things rely on.

The thing about Talia is that you can absolutely write her with some moral ambiguity because it's there. It is not a good thing that Talia faked a miscarriage and then lied to her partner about them having a child for ten years, that's a shitty thing to do. It's also not a good thing that Talia was aware that someone's kid, who was presumed death and whose presumed death had a very obvious negative impact on his parent, is actually alive, especially when the withholding of that information caused a great amount of further pain not only to the parent but to the kid as well (girlie please explain why you couldn't at any point just call Bruce and tell him that his son whose murder left him both homicidal and suicidal is in fact alive again if a bit brain damaged, it's not hard). It's not a good thing to raise your kid into what essentially amounts to a cult with no meaningful contact with half of his family for the most formative years of his life. Talia has operated in ways that have hurt people, in ways that have promoted her own interests at the expense of others. Acting the way that she did has in fact caused harm to people like Bruce and Jason and Damian. She's made bad choices, cruel choices even, either through a lack of care or straight up malice at times.

But that doesn't make her evil, that makes her human. And that doesn't make her a monster. Talia did not have Jason's best interests at heart during like 90% of the whole resurrection thing, yeah, but that's a human thing to do. My own mother has, on occasion, acted in ways that clearly weren't beneficial to me and caused me damage (my mother and I are cool don't worry we're very close). It doesn't make her a monster to him or any less of a caretaker during his vulnerable moments, even in spite of that. Talia's bad acts in her life doesn't take away from her love for Bruce, her love for her son, the fact that she did care about Jason and clearly held enough of an affection for him to at least want him to live, even if she made bad choices along the way in that regard. Nor does it erase from the other elements of her character, like her own motivations and her pacifism and the way she's got a much firmer moral compass than her father and her own ambitions for life. But the horrendous writing she's gotten, which I complained about towards the end here, means that it all gets swept away for "exotic sexy brown lady who's also Crazy And Evil". And for someone who has been such a major part of the Batman mythos for such a long time, who has such close ties to a lot of major Batman characters, who is the mother of the current Robin, it's vile that writers don't want to give her any care or consideration and fall back on laziness when depicting her.

I just deeply despise the way that the Al Ghuls' status as "antagonists" gets twisted into straight villains that enables writers to give some truly awful, racist characterization to Talia specifically that's filled with xenophobia and misogyny that flies in the face of a significant portion of her character before this shit got out of hand. But I also really resent the way fandom tends to overcorrect for that and just kind of turn her into this really flat character that is also incredibly at odds with who she's been in her history. Like, there is a reason why, in the fic you're talking (which I assume is this one because I don't think I've had any other fics wiht Talia in them), Talia being all "Jason you're good at killing" isn't framed as a good thing in his mind or something that brings him peace, but her just trying to care about and for him in the best way that she knows how. I'd like for fandom to allow Talia her ambiguity and her humanity back (and for people to allow characters to have complicated feelings about her, especially Jason and I'm not just saying that because of my belief that the "talia is jason's mom" thing is disrespectful to Catherine Todd). Editorial and fandom alike are able to acknowledge that characters like Bruce and his family are complex humans, Talia should be afforded that same dignity in both canon and transformative works.

But aside from my ranting, this was really sweet anon, thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoyed the story, I wrote 90% of it really late at night the evening before I published it so I'm really happy you liked it enough to come here and talk to me about it.

[twopoppies]

there is something that’s been bothering me a lot in the reviews and articles that have been coming out since venice. i just skimmed through the NY Times one that you reblogged, and like. shut up about the so-called “affair”, shut up about the fact that the movie is bad, shut up about the fact that the director lied, even. people lie all the time, people make bad movies all the time. that’s not the real issue here, and these articles making it the biggest issue is incredibly worrying and damaging, because it completely ignores and erases the fact that olivia wilde has some clearly twisted views on what feminism is. and people ignoring this in articles opens space for the “misogynistic industry” discussion. yes, the world is misogynistic, but this movie was done and cursed from the moment olivia got involved, because she knows nothing about feminine struggles against patriarchy. the fact that she is a woman doesn’t change that. she’s out there praising men for wearing aprons like it’s a big deal, a big statement. and the WORST of all, which the media is completely ignoring, she SAID, with her own WORDS, that this movie is about female pleasure. female gaze. female pleasure. let’s not ignore this – because the movie is about men controlling women to the point of raping them, and this woman is out there, unashamedly calling it pleasure. is she stupid or just plain sick? she’s no idea what feminism is. she should know it’s about freedom, about women doing whatever the hell they want, and let’s not even delve into the complexities of feminism to black, indigenous women. this is the issue. she sold a movie that depicts every form of male abuse towards women as something sexy. pleasurable. it’s blatantly gross.

also, saying that the 50’s weren’t as conservative, that they were fun, sexy times is the whitest thing she could ever say. let’s talk about those things.

Yeah, like I said, that article missed a lot of the points on the issue at hand in favor of focusing on the misogyny of “being mad at Olivia for doing what make directors have gotten away with for years”. That’s an issue that is important to discuss, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that Olivia deserves to be called out because she did a whole lot of really shady shit and seems to be a really shallow, narcissistic, self-serving person. The two things can exist at the same time.

In reference to this

[dark-frosted-heart]

A compilation of random and not so random things from Clavis’ route throughout the common route and true love route. This is not a detailed summary, but rather a series of things I found funny or interesting that later on turned serious as we got to the heavy stuff. And three times I yell at the new characters. 

Take the information with a grain of salt because I’m still a learner, and used a translator + dictionary for most of the story, so some nuances may be lost

Spoilers and very long post ahead, ye be warned. Some backstory stuff is listed first

Another note, I switch between using Chevalier and Cheva a lot lol. I’m sorry. Everything italicized is a sublist to an unitalicized point because Tumblr formatting is weird sometimes

CLALELOUUUUUUU

Such a charming, confident-looking gentleman that hides behind a smile but actually has a lot of insecurities.

The comedic timing in this route, holy shit

Take a shot every time his golden gaze with a hint of sensuality is mentioned, or he’s described as sexy in some way or another. Have a medic on standby. 

I need an 色香 counter

But can you blame MC?

Clavis writes long-ass letters. And each ends with a little fact about himself. Some including:

Clavis doesn’t like food that looks or tastes ordinary

Princes are given territories. Clavis took one of Chevalier’s and developed it into his own. 

He started learning medicine to show that he too could read medical books. Then one day, his mother caught a fever so he tried to make medicine based on what he read from a book. He realized that he can make people happy by making medicine. And then it turned into him using this skill to overcome his weak constitution and pull pranks

Clavis gets a fever if he stays up late, something touched upon in the story event of what the princes do when MC’s away, attending a friend’s wedding. The medicine allows him to push his body through these types of situations. Because the man’s always working.

Clavis is not of fully noble birth. Clavis’ mother, Letitia, was a maid from a lineage that served the Marquis de Michele family for generations. And so, Clavis’ fate was to do the same from the moment he was born.

His mother and Chevalier’s mother were close like sisters and had been together since they were children. Letitia was very loyal

Because of this relationship, no one knows how Clavis came to be. Sariel suspects that it wasn’t something she did willingly, but this was before the previous Belle had died and before the king lost his mind.

It’s revealed that in the both end clear chapter that his mother was raped by the king.

Clavis’ mother was always smiling, even if she wasn’t happy. She had loved Clavis very much but...

After Cheva’s mother died, Letitia threw herself off a cliff a few days later

Clavis says that if Chevalier wasn’t such a beast, adding on to the queen’s heartache, then the queen wouldn’t have died and Clavis’ mother would still be alive.

It’s after his mother’s death that Clavis is the way he is now.

By the way, every prince’s mother is dead...

Imagine Ikemen Prince if everyone’s mother loved their sons. And if their mothers were still alive.

Seven wonders of Clavis

Writes letters in code: actually his terrible handwriting. Sometimes even he has trouble reading what he wrote. BIG MOOD

Clavis has this secret room. Anyone that goes in doesn’t come out: It’s a room filled with weird shit and where he meets informants who tell him about activities from the surrounding kingdoms.

Parties that Clavis hosts filled with questionable people: anti-government people. You meet the “main” bad from both Cheva’s and Luke’s route. (Flandre and that guy that starts with a B in Luke’s route)

A gentleman that makes women cry. More on that soon

Whenever Clavis appears, there’s always an incident

Anyone who enters Clavis’ room gets amnesia

Clavis gets in a bad mood when it rains because of the rain-soaked roses, just like on the day of his mother’s funeral (revealed in the Both End Clear chapter)

A gentleman that makes women cry (the following is revealed in his true love route):

Clavis is a man that loves everyone and wants to be loved by everyone. However, he will only fall in love with one person

He had a bit of traumatic experience with love in the past, coming from how his mother killed herself the day after she told him she loved him

He thought he had all of his mother’s love. But he knew it wasn’t so after he found his mother at the cliff where she threw herself off of. His mother loved Chevalier’s mother more than she loved him.

He knows that women are attracted to him. Many have told him that they like him. But the more they proclaim that they love him, the more suspicious he gets.

And so he tests them, plays with them. Making the women who claim to love him run away

Clavis’ room hides his studious nature. It’s filled with well-used books on a variety of subjects including cooking, medicine, law, and economics. He doesn’t have a bed, but a couch.

Clavis has self-confidence issues when it comes to Chevalier. He’s an ordinary man while the 2nd prince is a genius.

As a child, he’d only receive praise and acknowledgement from his mother. He wanted others to recognize him as a real prince, but they were all always looking at Chevalier.

He’s never been able to beat Cheva in anything. In the true love route, Cheva says this is because Clavis never believed in himself

As children, bebe Cheva tells Clavis to do something that only Clavis can do instead of trying to do/beat him at things that Cheva can do if he wants to be acknowledged

Cheva would acknowledge him first if Clavis is able to do something Cheva can’t

Clavis is the type that’s willing to betray his country for the sake of a person/people. Where Chevalier will abandon a few lives, Clavis will save them. Where Chevalier protects the country, Clavis protects the people.

Chevalier is named king of Rhodolite. Clavis is named king of his own ‘Lelouch Kingdom’ that’s his territory.

If you want want Clavis to stop teasing you or doing whatever to you, tell him that you’ll hate him if he continues, and he’ll stop.

Clavis:

--------------------------------------

Cyril has red hair and his last name is Rose

MC’s second day in the palace is her being dragged around by Clavis and witnessing him pulling pranks on all of the brothers but Chevalier.

Yves and Licht pit count: 1

The food Clavis makes is questionable in color and appearance. It’s as awful as it looks. At least the first time. When referring to the food he made, a (?) is attached to emphasize the questionable nature.

Clavis and MC have breakfast daily (with breakfast made by Clavis). Occasionally the other princes are threatened invited to join, where MC can learn more about the princes as Belle.

Cheva’s the only one that hasn’t been invited

When Yves and Licht were invited, Yves brought breakfast that he made. Much to Licht’s relief. Licht gets force-fed cake by Clavis. Poor baby.

Leon actually enjoys the food and keeps stuffing his face.

Clavis drags MC with him to Cheva’s room to wake him up. Clavis’ method of waking Cheva up is drawing his sword and attacking him. But MC holds him back this time.

MC gets “kidnapped” by Clavis after lessons with Sariel. 

Clavis: You’ll be saying “Clavis, I love you” after this.

MC: (There’s no way I’m going to say that)

Cut to Chevalier’s personal library

MC: Clavis, I love you!

They really just talk about the three new characters without dropping names in one scene huh

Clavis invites MC to a soiree he’s hosting. Licht and Yves tag along.

Clavis’s villa is weird. What is this architecture. Also looks haunted.

No seriously, what the hell is going on in the front.

It’s a dilapidated mess with booby traps until you go deeper in

Yves and Licht pit count: 2

HI SILVIO

OH? SILVIO’S FACE FEELS FAMILIAR TO MC?!?!?!? looks at Rio

“Silvio arrived by caravan”

Me: Romani dalmatian...

Silvio invites MC to a soiree he’s hosting at the Benitoite embassy

Cheva’s nickname for Silvio is jarajara? JINGLES? Silvio is Kommo-o

Clavis kissed MC’s forehead

HI GILBERT

Gilbert kowai

Cyril hiding in a chimney

Silvio tries to get MC drunk, but at her latest glass where she’s reached her limit, Clavis swoops in and snatches the glass, downing the drink

There’s talking with Silvio afterward, a carriage ride home, Clavis tucking MC into bed, and him leaving her room before we see the alcohol take effect

We get a reserved, insecure Clavis who keeps comparing himself to Chevalier

I WANT TO HOLD HIM

Sidenote: TW server mentioned acting along the lines of spoiled and affectionate when he gets drunk 🤔 

Jade people are staying at the palace.

HI KEITH

tall like Jin and Luke

Has trouble sleeping and often wanders in the middle of the night

He’s having a tea party with Yves and Licht. Clavis appears

Y, L, K: SCATTER!

Clavis once fed Keith something weird

Clavis under suspicion for helping an Obsidian prisoner escape

Clavis is nowhere to be found. Cheva tells her where she can find him.

Meeting Gilbert in the ruins at Obsidian and Rhodolite territory. 

Gilbert kowai x2

Clavis did free the Obsidian spy. Returned him to Gilbert in exchange for a key. Gilbert then kills the spy

The mansion at Clavis’ territory is clean and normal because it’s actually being maintained

Gotta love when a route has you question morality and if a character’s actions are right or wrong.

CLAVIS BOCCHAN

Clavis has been a disaster child since childhood

Date with Clavis in his territory!

Townspeople: SCATTER!

It’s like his birthday story all over again

Instead of punishing an Obsidian refugee boy who escaped the orphanage and stole from a bakery, Clavis has him work for the baker instead.

Clavis loves and remembers all of his people

People may be nervous around Clavis because he’s a walking disaster, but he’s a good lord to his people. You just can’t bring yourself to hate him.

30% of the people in his territory are Obsidian refugees

Sariel and Rio are at the mansion. There’s a document signed by all the other princes but Cheva charging him for kidnapping MC as well as helping a prisoner escape. Back to the capital we go, where Sariel questions MC

You can exchange books for information with Chevalier

Sariel begins to interrogate Clavis in the throne room with the same questions he asked MC, but Cheva interrupts and kicks Sariel out

Clavis and Cheva have a long talk about the things that Clavis is doing and how he’s a pawn in Gilbert’s game, and is going to end up getting himself killed. Before he leaves, Chevalier tells Clavis what MC said when she was questioned by Sariel

Breakfast with Leon and Nokto. Leon calls Clavis’ tart(?) cute and can tell that it’s a rabbit. Why rabbit? Because Clavis likes rabbits. Like MC

A knight rushes over and tells Clavis that a certain “place” is under “attack”. Clavis leaves breakfast to attend to it and the other princes are just chilling, Leon stuffing his face with food. Suddenly an explosion. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Apparently Sariel tried to break into Clavis’ room.

He tries to do it again, this time having MC keep watch and Rio act as a distraction

Sariel was the one that taught Clavis how to pick locks

Young Clavis threatened to tell other people about how he saw Sariel pick a lock unless he taught him how

Sariel wasn’t raised in nobility

Door opens, and the two see the inside of Clavis’ room.

MC comes back to her room after a bath and sees Clavis waiting for her. She tries to leave but he stops her. She has this guilty look and MC eventually confesses that she went into his room

Clavis was actually in her room to apologize for leaving during breakfast. He left her a clay figure, a Clavis substitute

As punishment for entering his room, Clavis gives MC a hickey

MC gets a lesson on the history of Belle selection and tragedy that was the previous Belle and king

This MC had the time to look over the contract and was not surprised when Sariel asked about the 99th clause

MC says she knows her position. But suddenly Clavis pops into her mid and she thinks about how she’s never going to fall in love with him

MC: (Wait a minute, what did I think about Clavis when there are 8 princes?)

Clavis takes MC to the southwestern border where a civil war has broken out. They’re crossing over to Obsidian because a refugee boy from Clavis’ territory begged him to save his family

CLAVIS IS A CUTE SLEEPER

Cyril was formerly an Obsidian soldier who couldn’t live with what he had done during the war 10 years ago where 1000 people from a Rhodolite village were to be burned. The 1000 people that Cheva sacrificed. Before that, Clavis came to the rescue. Well...he got captured first, and Cheva still didn’t budge. So the burning commenced. Cyril went to meet Clavis because he was curious and planned to die in the fire. Clavis freed himself and whatever survivors he could and Cyril joined him after hearing the prince’s convictions.

Onto the True Love route!

After finding themselves in an Obsidian prison, Clavis, Cyril, MC, and two guards that Clavis convinces to release them go and rescue 100 prisoners and they take an underground path leftover from an old fallen kingdom toward Rhodolite.

At the exit, Clavis and MC go to check it out and are greeted by Chevalier and an army

Cheva draws his sword and Clavis is frozen. MC steps in between them and Cheva points his sword at her throat. Clavis snaps out of it and pulls the blade away from MC with his hand

MC: (Don’t act like a gentleman at a time like this!)

Clavis scolds MC for trying to confront a beast like Chevalier

MC yells some sense into Clavis to get out of his lack of confidence funk

Cheva’s just standing there while Clavis is still holding onto the blade

MC continues her talk no jutsu and tells Clavis not to give up. Clavis starts to laugh and is out of his defeated state.

Cheva draws his sword out of Clavis’ grasp. Ouch. Clavis throws a smoke bomb and the two make their escape back into the tunnels. Cheva calls off the army. But stay alert

Back underground, they need to figure out food. They can’t get aid or find refuge from other countries. MC offhandedly suggests that Clavis establish his own country.

Clavis agrees to the absurd idea and establishes Lelouch Kingdom

Someone save Cyril from this absurdity

The refugees are for it.

Exiting the ruins, in the forest, Clavis points MC in the direction of his territory.

Clavis asks for a kiss goodbye and MC gives into his sad eyes. She pulls his ascot tie and kisses his cheek

In the city of the territory, MC asks for everyone’s attention to help their lord and tells them about the story of Lelouch Kingdom being established

MC then returns to the palace. She has to choose the next king the next day.

MC writes down two names: Chevalier and Clavis. Sariel asks her to explain (threateningly). She asks for a meeting with the two new kings.

The meeting’s to discuss granting Clavis’ territory independence as Lelouch Kingdom. Chevalier counters all of Clavis’ reasons, but Clavis knew that he wouldn’t be able to convince Chevalier with words

They’ll settle this with a duel. Someone help Sariel who can’t take more of this.

Oh my god the ground below gave in and they fell to the floor below.

After throwing a smoke bomb, Clavis lands a hit on Chevalier’s shoulder.

The two shake hands and Chevalier tells Clavis to prepare the necessary documents, with legible handwriting, and to set a meeting with Jade and Benitoite. He’ll surrender land to Clavis.

Clavis cries after Cheva leaves

(premium attire chapter 24) Shirtless Clavis

MC treating his injuries.

Clavis tells MC the various things he likes about her, kissing her in various places on her face in the process

Clavis starts to kiss her legs while trying to get MC to admit that she likes him

MC relents, grabs his collar, and kisses him

Clavis mentions that he’s a leg man, not a breasts man. I’m surprised this didn’t come up anywhere in the common route)

(end)

Before returning to her job at the bookstore, Clavis tried to keep her in Lelouch Kingdom by taking the yandere method of handcuffs, drugs, and nets until MC told him that she would hate him

At the bookstore

MC: (It’s a bit lonely, but it’s nice to have some peace and quiet

The door opens with the loud bell

Clavis: I missed you my lover! Now come and jump into my arms! (He says chest, but that sounds weird)

MC: (The peace didn’t last long!)

MC doesn’t give Clavis the welcome he was expecting so he says he’ll jump into her chest instead. *picks MC up*

It’s the day of Chevalier's coronation. Clavis drags MC off to the ball to show off their love

*squints* The dress that Clavis puts MC in sounds like the same dress Clavis had her wear for their engagement party in the fake wedding event. Or they’re just both coincidentally wisteria in color

*kisses MC while they dance* everyone is shocked

MC, embarrassed, tells Clavis that she doesn’t like PDA

Clavis: I wanted to show off our love, but now I can’t let anyone else see how cute you are

Drags MC to his room in the palace

Kisses and starts to strip MC out of her dress

Stops when she tells him to.

Even at this point, Clavis is still testing MC. 

She asks what he’s testing her on. He gives her one of his shirts to wear because it’s going to be a long talk

refer to ‘A gentleman who makes women cry’

MC has learned to distinguish his laughs

MC decides to show her love more, catching Clavis by surprise every time

She tells him that she’s confident that she won’t break, so he can keep playing with her until he believes that she loves him the most. Other than PDA

A lot of tie pulling

Unnecessarily sexy act of removing his gloves

Lifts MC’s bare legs up and situates his body between them. Starts stroking her legs because the man loves them

Used to want to imprint his existence to everyone, but now is more interested in doing that with MC

MC asks him to do it gently, without the handcuffs, drugs, and other stuff

Ah, the wet sound of kissing

Epilogue

Clavis had a branch of the bookstore MC worked at in the capital open near his house in Lelouch Kingdom

He also has a room set up for MC at his place

He asks for a kiss on the cheek and MC complies, surprising him

Cyril makes his presence known, surprising MC

MC’s dere dere moments need to be cherished

MC doesn’t have to go back and forth between Lelouch Kingdom and the capital anymore. But what happens to Rio?

Clavis asks MC to wait in his room while he goes and carries out his duties. The door to his room opens easily, but instead, another trap waits for her that restrains her

As Clavis teases her, she notices that his body temperature is high. He takes some medicine.  He got a fever from staying up late again

MC wants to be someone that Clavis can relax and be himself in front of

Cuddle time with Clavis. Vulnerable Clavis but doesn’t mean he’s still a little bastard

More wet sounds as Clavis teases MC in the morning

[bikenesmith]

so about x-factor

cw: (queerphobic and antiblack) rape and murder

oh wow, just bad all around huh. about the racism first, and then some magnus family stuff that bothered me. from twitter

this...storyline, if it can be called that, with david was entirely unnecessary imo. this only served to victimize david in some of the worst ways possible. and it made SURE to let us know he was victimized in that way.

ive no idea why a white woman saw it fit to insert a story beat that a bi black male character was raped + murdered by a white man + left to rot in a basement. to smash that whole storyline, barefaced, into (LESS THAN!) 20 pages of comic script...to go so far as to show us (admittedly in a small panel in little detail) his body lying in that basement...and the way it was handled? holy fuck?

why WASNT the predator killed? akihiro just bragged to aurora about killing some people who deserved it a few pages ago. why wasn't aurora's little girlboss moment replaced with akihiro telling everyone he'd "take care of everything" + to go back to the party?

and on that note - invoking the POLICE - laughable. as if the police diligently investigates, finds, and tries serial killers who go after queer men or queer people of any gender. and this particular predator is rich and famous? LMAO. and no, it wouldn't be ~poetic~ if he resisted arrest. nothing would HAPPEN to him! because they'd put on the kid gloves and take him to fucking burger king like the other white serial killers!

and it doesn't stop there! SO WEIRD for akihiro to be like "wowww youre so sexy when you're mean" when she's just finished chewing out the PREDATOR who RAPED AND KILLED THEIR FRIEND. and honestly this is an example of the exact criticism i see of leah hypersexualizing akihiro & giving him a type of low morality that is generally sleazier than logan or laura

if anything i say gets thru to white writers i want it to be this: the rape & murder of queer black ppl isnt theoretical. it happens every day. its a constant threat. its not shit you play with, or take lightly. & frankly, it's not your story to tell

deep breath. ugh. okay magnus stuff.

of course obviously its wanda. i don't know how you managed to overshadow the reveal of wanda maximoff's murder but racism finds a way

the bit with erik commenting on lorna's drinking is so fucking annoying and so ooc and reminds me of the way erik acted towards lorna in the beginnings of x of swords and never apologized for. im sure theyre trying to set up some dialogue about fatherly favoritism but this isnt the way to do it.

its a very hamfisted reminder of the differences between erik's current relationship with lorna and the expectations he pushes on her, vs with wanda. this set-up just makes erik look like a paternalistic misogynist rather than a demanding father. this makes me worried about the writing and dynamics surrounding erik, wanda, and lorna in the trial of magneto, something that i was very excited for

and tommy...naurrrr. getting confirmation on HIS end that he thinks of wanda as his mom, in comparison to billy, is so rare and the fact that it's NOW is rough. i wonder if he'll be joining the investigation, i can't imagine he won't insist on it

final comments. very unnecessary extreme racialized sexual violence. i could feel the white people patting themselves on the back through the screen. all i can say is that its disgusting. its disgusting that a white woman wrote this and wrote it so badly, + that it got published

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a Chinese, nationally and racially. Racial projection seems to be a common practice in western fandom, doesn't it? I find it a bit... weird to witness the drama ignited upon shipping individuals with different races, or the tendency to separate characters into different "colors" even though the world setting doesn't divide races like that. Such practice isn't a thing here. Mind explaining a bit on this phenomenon?

--

Sure, I can try. But of course, fish aren’t very good at explaining the water they swim in.

Americans aren’t good at detecting our own Americanness, and a lot of what you’re seeing is very much culturally American rather than Western in general. (In much of Europe, “race” is a concept used by racists, or so I’m told, unlike in the US where it’s seen more neutrally.) Majority group members (i.e. me, a white girl) aren’t usually the savviest about minority issues, but I’ll give it a shot.

The big picture is that most US race stuff boils down to our attempts to justify and maintain slavery and that dynamic being applied, awkwardly, to everyone else too, even years after we abolished slavery.

There’s a concept called the “one drop rule” where a person is “black” if they have even one drop of black blood.

We used to outlaw “interracial” marriage until quite recently. (That meant marriage between black people and white people with Asians and Hispanic people and others wedged in awkwardly.) Here’s the Wikipedia article on this, which contains the following map showing when we legalized interracial marriage. The red states are 1967.

That’s within living memory for a ton of people! Yellow is 1948 to 1967. This is just not very long ago at all. (Hell, we only fully banned slavery in 1865, which is also just not that long ago when it comes to human culture.)

Why did we have this bananas-crazy set of laws and this idiotic notion that one remote ancestor defines who you are? It boils down to slavery requiring a constant reaffirming that black people are all the same (and subhuman) while white people are all this completely separate category. The minute you start intermarrying, all of that breaks down. This was particularly important in our history because our system of slavery involved the kids of slaves being slaves and nobody really buying their way out. Globally, historically, there are other systems of slavery where there was more mobility or where enslaved people were debtors with a similar background to owners, and thus the people in power were less threatened by ambiguity in identity.

Post-slavery, this shit hung around because it was in the interests of the people in power to maintain a similar status quo where black people are fundamentally Other.

A lot of our obsession with who counts as what is simply a legacy of our racist past that produced our racist present.

--

The other big factor in American concepts of identity is that we see ourselves as a nation of immigrants (ignoring our indigenous peoples, as usual). A lot of people’s families arrived here relatively recently, and we often don’t have good records of exactly where they were from, even aside from enslaved people who obviously wouldn’t have those records. Plenty of people still identify with a general nationality (”Italian-American” and such), but the nuance the family might once have had (specific region of Italy, specific hometown) is often lost. Yeah, I know every place has immigrants, and lots of people don’t have good records, but the US is one of those countries where families have on average moved around a lot more and a lot more recently than some, and it affects our concepts of identity. I think some of the willingness to buy into the idea of “races” rather than “ethnicities” has to do with this flattening of identity.

New immigrant groups were often seen as Other and lesser, but over time, the ones who could manage it got added to our concept of “whiteness”, which gave them access to those same social and economic privileges.

Skin color is a big part of this. In a system that is founded on there being two categories, white owners and black slaves, skin color is obviously going to be about that rather than being more of a class marker like it is in a lot of the world.

But it’s not all about skin color since we have plenty of Europeans with somewhat darker skin who are seen as generically white here, while very pale Asians are not. I’m not super familiar with all of the history of anti-Asian racism in the US, but I think this persistent Otherness probably boils down to Western powers trying to justify colonial activities in Asia plus a bunch of religious bullshit about predominantly Christian nations vs. ones that are predominantly Buddhist or some other religion.

In fact, a lot of racist archetypes in English can be traced back to England’s earliest colonial efforts in Ireland. Justifying colonizing Those People because they’re subhuman and/or ignorant and in need of paternalistic rulers or religious conversion is at the bottom of a lot of racist notions. Ironic that we now see Irish people as clearly “white”.

--

There are a lot of racist porn tropes and racist cultural baggage here around the idea of black people being animalistic. Racist white people think black men want to rape/steal white women from white men. Black women get seen as hypersexual and aggressive. If this sounds like white people projecting in order to justify murder and rape... well, it is.

Similar tropes get applied to a lot of groups, often including Hispanic and Middle Eastern people, though East Asians come in more for creepy fantasies about endlessly submissive and promiscuous women. This nonsense already existed, but it was certainly not helped by WWII servicemen from here and their experiences in Asia. Again, it’s a projection to justify shitty behavior as what the party with less power was “asking for”.

In porn and even romance novels, this tends to turn up as a white character the audience is supposed to identify with paired with an exotic, mysterious Other or an animalistic sexy rapist Other.

A lot of fandoms are based on US media, so all of our racist bullshit does apply to the casting and writing of those, whether or not the fic is by Americans or replicating our racist porn tropes.

(Obviously, things get pretty hilarious and infuriating once Americans get into c-dramas and try to apply the exact same ideas unchanged to mainstream media about the majority group made by a huge and powerful country.)

--

Politically, within the US, white people have had most of the power most of the time. We also make up a big chunk of the population. (This is starting to change in some areas, which has assholes scared shitless.) This means that other groups tend to band together to accomplish shared political goals. They’re minorities here, so they get lumped together.

A lot of Americans become used to seeing the world in terms of “white people” who are powerful oppressors and “people of color” who are oppressed minorities. They’re trying to be progressive and help people with less power, and that’s good, but it obviously becomes awkward when it’s over-applied to looking at, say, China.

--

Now... fandom...

I find that fandom, in general, has a bad habit of holding things to double standards: queer things must be Good Representation™ even when they’re not being produced for that purpose. Same for ethnic minorities or any other minority. US-influenced parts of fandom (which includes a lot of English-speaking fandom) tend to not be very good at accepting that things are just fantasy. This has gotten worse in recent years.

As fandom has gotten more mainstream here, general media criticism about better representation (both in terms of number of characters and in terms of how they’re portrayed) has turned into fanfic criticism (not enough fics about ship X, too many about ship Y, problematic tropes that should not be applied to ship X, etc.). I find this extremely misguided considering the smaller reach of fandom but, more importantly, the lack of barriers to entry. If you think my AO3 fic sucks, you can make an account and post other fic that will be just as findable. You don’t need money or industry connections or to pass any particular hurdle to get your work out there too.

People also (understandably) tend to be hypersensitive to anything that looks like a racist porn trope. My feeling is that many of these are general porn tropes and people are reaching. There are specific tropes where black guys are given a huge dick as part of showing that they’re animalistic and hypersexual, but big dicks are really common in porn in general. The latter doesn’t automatically mean you’re doing the former unless there are other elements present. A/B/O or dubcon doesn’t mean it’s this racist trope either, not unless certain cliched elements are present. OTOH, it’s not hard for a/b/o tropes to feel close to “animalistic guy is rapey”, so I can see why it often bothers people.

A huge, huge, huge proportion of wank is “all rape fantasies are bad” crap too, which muddies the waters. I think a lot of people use “it’s racist” as an easy way to force others to agree with their incorrect claims that dubcon, noncon, a/b/o, etc. are fundamentally bad. Many fans, especially white fans, feel like they don’t know enough to refute claims of racism, so they cave to such arguments even when they’re transparently disingenuous.

--

Not everyone here thinks this way. I know plenty of people offline, particularly a lot of nonwhite people, who think fandom discourse is idiotic and that the people “protecting” people or characters of color are far more racist than the people writing “bad” fic or shipping the wrong thing.

But in general, I’d say that the stuff above is why a lot of us see the world as white people in power vs. everyone else as oppressed victims, interracial relationships as fraught, and porn about them as suspect. Basically, it’s people trying to be more progressive and aware but sometimes causing more harm than good when those attempts go awry.

[mermaidsirennikita]

This notion that season 1 had so much sex...but did it? Anthony and Siena had like short 2 sex scene and the rest of their scenes were fade to black. Daphne and Simon had the honeymoon sex montage and then 4 pretty tame (and again pretty short) sex scenes. Honestly the rape was probably the most explicit scene on the show.

Also you could make the argument that sex was maybe more important to season 1 since sperm was a actual plot point?

But beyond that it's pretty standard for established shows to tone down on the sex in subsequent seasons so Bridgerton toning down on that is expected. It could also maybe be a desire to be taken more seriously and not just be seen as regency porn? I mean CVD was talking a lot about Pride and Prejudice on sm and you can clarly see the parallels this season.

I'm of a few minds on all this.

A) I need to see it in order to judge it.

B) I do think there's a lot of GENERAL comparison to s1 happening, and honestly? I had a lot of issues with s1. Even aside from the gross racial shit happening and the Penelope of it all. I think that what made s1 seem VERY sex and horny was not so much... the sex scenes, which were explicit and were good, imo (aside from the obvious) but were nothing INSANELY OVER THE TOP.

It was the fact that they cast a very, very good leading man. And that's not a knock on JB. But let's be real here: you can be super into JB all you want. Maybe he's the hottest man alive to you. But on a universal level, RJP is more of a traditional leading man in many ways. And he's very, very sexy on a more universal level. So sex scenes that would've perhaps seemed more pedestrian were dialed up to 11 in people's minds because they were so fucking into him. If you want to recreate that in s2... You have to find someone comparable to him. And I've said many times, FOR ME, none of the other guys recreate that magic. I may think some of them are good actors; I may think some of them are good looking; but I don't think any of them have the potential to be a sex symbol the way he became.

C) Some reviewers got 6 episodes; some got 8. I don't know why. I don't know why Netflix would send out 6 episodes if episode 7 is the "sex episode" as one reviewer put it. But I imagine that if there's one quick sex scene right before the end of ep 6 and nothing else, that would definitely throw you off.

D) I do think dropping the level of sex in TV after the first season is normal.... And sometimes it's not a bad thing. Like, with Outlander--I kinda got over watching the same people go at it all the time... And even they dialed back the types of sex scenes they were doing. Rumor has always been that Caitriona Balfe just didn't want to take her clothes off as much, and that makes sense. Eventually, you're over that shit.

With that being said, that's not an issue here, so I don't think you can really give actors' comfort as an excuse. You're comparing couple to couple to couple here, and if one couple fucks like crazy and the other doesn't, it's more noticeable than the same couple toning sex down over the course of multiple seasons. I do think, and I've suspected for a while, that the show is uncomfortable with its status as a romance novel adaptation. And to me, cutting down sex (while sex is not the only key to romance and is not even required of romance novels) does kind of gel with that idea. That in itself is a bummer. I think you can execute a good romance arc without a ton of sex. But I feel that what made this show feel like a romance novel adaptation was in part the way it treated sex.

E) At the end of the day, it's one of those things I'll have to see and maybe I'll give the season a lower mark because of it, but I'm not going to lose my shit because at the end of the day, I'm not as invested as many seem to be (not a knock on 'em, just a fact) and these books didn't stand out in my mind as super hot. They were very tame. I would probably be like one of the anons in my inbox who's sending me shit that's just like... quotes and paraphrases followed by crying emojis or OH GOD HOW DO I LIVE if they adapted a Kerrigan Byrne novel and the sex wasn't intense, because I'm very attached to her novels and the sex in those books is kinda intense. But this.... isn't that. So as a response to the genre, as I said in another ask, it's problematic and suggests a discomfort with it.... As a response to the books? Meh.

F) Perhaps none of this will be relevant when I watch it and the tension will be so hot that I don't care? Who knows? Every romance arc is different. I think that when you first watch s1 you're like OMG WOW THE SEX because again, RJP is a one in a million leading man type that's hard to find. But the *couple* is not that hot. Their dynamic is not that sexy. Especially after she rapes him. You can have couples that have a fuckton of onscreen sex but not a lot of heat, and you can have couples that have no onscreen sex but tons of heat (see: Matthew McFadyen and Keira Knightley in Pride and Prejudice). Regardless, I think there's some weird discomfort and behind the scenes politics that would contribute to a lack of sex in s2 versus s1, but that doesn't necessarily mean I will enjoy s2 less.

[mallowstep]

"the cousins thing is your first comment?" I mean I have other comments but that is still an issue. am I missing context?? I'm so confused?

so anon you've got me at a bad time.

tldr: the cousins thing was like the last thought i had about the ship, so i was being snarky, as one is wont to do sometimes

cw: we are going to be discussing shipcest, along with power imbalances and age gaps

this might end up being a bit of a longer rant than i mean, but...

look, usually i have a golden rule of interaction: "take everything at face, and assume the best." (i usually just say assume the best, but they go together.)

and i'm going to break that rule for you, anon. feel fucking special. i don't do that for most asks.

i've got a lot of thoughts, but you aren't entitled to most of them, so i'll focus on my big one:

it's, yes, it's fucking confusing to me that the first thing you felt it necessary to bring up was the fact that they're cousins. first cousins once removed, if anyone is curious. i usually refer to stonefur as her uncle, and am going to do that for the rest of this post, because that's just...their relationship in my mind.

y'know i want...when people sent me frogleap asks, and i got fed up, i lashed out at someone who didn't deserve it, so i'm nipping it in the bud this time. like. my self reflection question for you is why is incest the thing that bothers you most sharply?

(i'm assuming, but like. even still, the first thing you commented to me on.)

now, i've said basically nothing about stonefeather. the most i've said, and this was after you sent the ask, was "i just think it's so fucked up how [redacted]," because i'm a cheeky bastard sometimes.

i'm always tired of people making assumptions, especially about what's going on in my head. with no context for what my stonefeather thoughts are and i just---

one of the last things for me to mull over was that they, yes, they are related. not even technically related, but related in a way they know about. socially and by blood. but like hey.

you're not me. maybe the first thing that goes through your mind is not, "wow, that power imbalance is so fucking interesting."

[aside: please know i wanted to say "that power imbalance is so fucking sexy," but context made it ambiguous.]

but like...i didn't say fucking shit! i said, "so that's your first comment?" because well yeah it's curious to me, but that's it. release you back into the world until you maybe respond.

and god i'm really breaking my rules tonight, because...

i don't like how you've used issues here! i don't like...i'd usually not make this conclusion, but the way you're approaching this conversation feels, to me, like you don't like that people are interested in this. maybe i'm wrong. if so, y'know, that's fine. but i'm tired, and assuming the best takes work, and i'm not leaving this ask to mull on overnight.

like hm. what do we mean by issue?

do we mean, "reasons this relationship wouldn't be unhealthy?" bc again, incest would be last on my list. do we mean "reasons people shouldn't ship this?"

well, heatherbreeze are the same relation. first cousins once removed.

so.

i've got bones on bones to pick with Problematic Things.

i saw someone called feathercrow pedophilia once and i just...had to walk away for a bit. friends can verify i haven't shut up about it since.

and i'm too tired to be nice and nuanced. fuck it. you have no idea what's on my brain, but i think you think it's a problem that stonefeather is what's on my brain. maybe you don't. i don't care.

i think it's really interesting that incest is what got this.

i've written stories about rape, about torture. i wrote a fuck ton about a father degrading his daughter, so like. we already had incest. but.

is it because i didn't tell you this is a bad thing? is it because i expected you to have a single ounce of critical thinking to not assume that me saying "i am thinking about stonefeather" means "i think, were they real people, this would be a good and healthy relationship."?

do you need me to walk you through this every time i say something?

like i dunno i just...to me the obviously, immediately obvious part of this that's harmful is the power imbalance. he's her brother's mentor, and, if you follow along with my headcanons, heavily involved in her training as well.

maybe you thought i'm thinking of an au where that's not true.

but the incest would still be true, wouldn't it?

i don't fucking know. i'm not getting into it, it's not worth the effort, i just literally can't follow your thought process on why the cousins thing was the first thing you brought up. yes, he's her uncle. he's also like. uh. hold on let me be precise.

at the time of his death, he's what, roughly 6 years. 24 at age 2 + 4*4 = 24 + 16 = 40, right?

featherpaw is seven moons old, give or take, making her 14.

so.

he's roughly 3 times as old as her? slightly less? i mean literally 14yo + 40yo is in fact the first thing i thought of, followed by, he's her mentor*, and it was only after a bunch of thought did i go "oh right they're related. i always forget about that."

*yes, i know. sit down. it's fine. i'm tired. this footnote goes to any other commentary of this nature.

but hey like. so what.

maybe incest is the first thing that stood out to you. in that case, you could extend the courtesy i usually extend to all of you and assume the best. y'know. i was just commenting.

i dunno. i dunno where i'm going, i dunno if i've made sense. i'm kind of just angry. maybe this is undeserved, anon, but i've had a hell of a day. too much of one to care.

what's the point of your ask. what do you want to accomplish. do you want to hear me say incest is bad?

incest is bad.

there.

i said it.

i dunno if you're missing content, you had the same context of every other ask on the matter.

y'know what i just find is interesting? how do you get to that point. that's my curiosity, how do you get to stonefeather. i like stonefur. i don't want to say "he's a predator." there's no interest in that to me.

so that's what i've been mulling over, for the past few days. i keep my word, so i won't say anything else about the matter, but like...

i dunno i guess so fucking what.

so fucking what, they're cousins. and? what's your point? what do you want from me?

i assume my audience is not fucking idiots. and if you are, that's not on me. i assume you can look at stonefur and feathertail and go, "you'd need one hell of an au to make that anywhere close to healthy."

so. why's it fucking matter! and i don't mean that in a literal sense. i don't want to know why you care, i really fucking don't. i don't do discourse here, and this is only passing that filter because i'm angry.

you say you can think of several issues. so can i. i would wager a not insignificant amount of money i've thought of more than you.

do you...not have an interest in them? then okay! go on your way. i can pinky promise this isn't going to be a stonefeather stan blog, so you don't have to worry about that.

but like. so what?

so fucking what.

i do what i want and i always have. as far as i'm concerned, i have exactly three responsibilities:

do not put smut in the main tag

provide reasonable content warnings when applicable

be careful about how i present a certain subset of content.

n.b. that subset is private to me and will remain private. do not ask about it.

the first two are generic, the third one is personal.

at no point in that list do i ever think "i should not make content."

but --- you didn't say that, and i don't...i dunno.

y'know, one of my first exposures to wc tumblr was someone asking if a list of ships was okay, and i was so fucking confused. they're just ships. and ships are between you and god.

people ask me semi regularly if i ship firetiger? and i always say yes?

do i think firetiger, in canon, would be a healthy relationship?

i mean if i had my way with it

i'm joking. kinda. it'd be hard to just insert in, but like no. the answer is no.

but so fucking what.

it doesn't...i don't.

i don't know. ik i've been all over the place, i'm not trying to be on topic.

do you ever have a need to tear something apart? to deconstruct it?

do you know i unwrap presents by sliding my finger under the tape to preserve the paper?

i am fascinated with dark things. i find the unravelling exciting, and my brain does not disappoint.

i remembered they're cousins, and thought, "oh, ik exactly how to get more terrible things out of it."

so ig. i don't know. if you don't like it, move on. if you want me to justify it by explaining how i know it's harmful and i'll never present a single ounce of nuanced writing that requires critical thinking, you can fuck off.

and read tiatt.

so yeah, uh, tl/dr: read "take it as the truth, or take it as a grain of salt," and then we'll talk.

[jeonqqin]

man up. [m] | pt.4

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: future smut, language, reader being followed at night, not much, Chan’s sexy ass arms?

A/N: the big day!! also there’s a little scene for binnie’s birthday (even though it was yesterday)

▸ request

CHAPTERS:  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

© jeonqqin 2020

—UNEDITED

Your mind was running circles around you, everything a blur.

Talking on the phone with Chan lifted your mood exponentially, but there was still something that ticked in the back of your head. With the way your conversation with Chan ended, you weren’t sure if you should’ve been jumping for joy or hiding away under your covers in hopes that no one would ever find you again.

“So, I was wondering,” His voice drawled over the phone.

You held back the urge to shiver in order to hear exactly what he had to say. Granted the wind had stopped, but the night air was slipping through the thin fabric of your clothes and making up for its absence.

“Yeah?”

You heard Chan chuckle—surprisingly enough it sounded nervous.

“Would you ever date a guy like me?”

And just with one question, you almost fell forward off of the swing.

“What are you saying?” You uttered, eyes staring out at the bright red slide in front of you that had been dulled by the darkness.

Chan cleared his throat, “Do you want to go on a date with me, Y/n?”

You had said yes too quickly, not just in the sense that it was embarrassing, but also because after you hung up, it really occurred to you that you would be going on a date with Bang Chan.

A date.

Had you even been on a date before?

You wrapped your arms around your body as you contemplated the whole situation. It was dark outside despite the street lights, and even then, they were too dim to really be doing their job. But you hardly noticed, too immersed in your own head to worry about the dark or the possibility of meat-heads roaming around looking for their next meal.

Your skin prickled, your subconscious attempting to warn you about the shadow that lurked only a few feet away.

The date. It should be easy; smile, talk to him without vomiting, and be sure not to make a complete fool of yourself in front of the single most attractive man you had ever seen. Piece of cake.

You mentally cursed Minho for possibly scaring you for the rest of your young life. Could you hold it over him if his years of desensitizing you turned you into a lonely cat-lady?

No—he’d already taken that title, and you weren’t sure if the universe was ready to support two financial tragedies within the same family.

The sound of footsteps fell to deaf ears, the lights of the dorms were able to be seen from your place on the street, and there wasn’t a shred of dread in your naive body. Not even when the sound of sneakers padding against tar got closer—too close for comfort had you been paying any attention. Maybe you were too tired, or your head was too preoccupied to focus on the approaching body behind you.

Not until there was a hand wrapping around your mouth and another pinning your arms to your sides. In your shock, you could feel the flex of your aggressor’s biceps—he was strong, and it had your heart stopping in your chest.

You wiggled the best you could in his grip, but the man’s hold was too constricting, and you suddenly wanted to cry. How stupid could you have been to let something like this happen?

Your heart pounded in your chest as you plead against the calloused hand, your legs shaking like jelly. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear—mint, the one thing you could focus on was that his breath didn’t reek of alcohol like you would’ve assumed.

“Wow…” He released a breath with a small chuckle, and your brows furrowed.

The voice was familiar—

“You really are stupid. Do you realize that you would’ve been so dead if I wanted to like—take advantage of you and dump your body in a river, or something?”

You squirmed out of the stupid stupid strong arms of your stupid stupid ex-friend, you eyes set in a harsh glare as you brought your fists down on his firm chest.

“You fucking pig!” You screeched with rage, fists clenched even when he grabbed your wrists in between fits of laughter. You actually wanted to stab a knife into his eye. “I can’t believe you did that! I thought I was going to die, asshole!”

Changbin snickered with a mocking coo, “I know. Poor baby...”

“You’re a sadistic bastard.”

“Just think—” he released your hands, only to block the oncoming smack that you sent. “You won’t make this mistake again, stupid-head.”

You huffed, wrapping your arms around your body again and continuing forward, your pulse more intense than it had been before. “What if I had gone into cardiac arrest or something? You would’ve been fucked in more ways than one. Do you know what they do to rapists in prison?”

“Y/n,” Changbin chuckled under his breath, meeting your stride easily. “I didn’t rape you, in case you didn’t notice.”

“But if I died, that’s what it would’ve looked like! And suddenly you’re in concrete hell.”

Changbin shook his head. “God—just be more careful next time you decide to walk alone in the middle of the night. Call one of us or something.”

Guilt nawed at your skin, and you sent him a sulky pout. He was right. If something really had happened, you would’ve been fucked. Unless the guy was thinner than a twig and had a shit center of gravity, your chances of getting out of that kind of danger was unlikely. Damn Changbin and his infuriatingly true points.

You let out a groan as the boy beside you casually slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Fine. You’re right. Happy?”

Changbin’s head turned to you and he released another coo, his forehead pressing against yours and successfully annoying the shit out of you. How everyone else dealt with him was a true mystery.

He was supposed to be older than you?

The pitch of his voice raised, “Of course I am.”

You wrenched out of his grip, swatting away his reaching hand and stepping out of his range.

Perhaps there would be a murder tonight.

“Stop being a creep and act like a normal person for once, Bin.”

Without even looking back, you could feel the pout on his lips. But he only let out a quick whine before following after you, his hands stuffed into his jeans.

You had hardly noticed before, but he was dressed strangely—he was in a torn to shit grey t-shirt, multiple splotches of something black plastered across his torso just above the ragged seam of where the shirt ended, holes scattered everywhere exposing glimpses of his firm chest. The jeans weren’t any better, almost completely colored black by the same substance on his shirt, baring rips at the knees and not the ones you get solely for fashion.

“By the way…” You drawled, twisting around to rake your eyes over him one last time. “What were you even doing before this?”

Changbin glanced at his attire and shrugged, the smallest glow of red covering his ears. “I’ve been working on cars for some extra money.”

Your eyebrow raised. “At night?”

“It’s the only time I have free between producing new songs and school.”

Nodding you faced back towards the dark street in front of you.

Changbin had never sparked you as a manual labor kind of guy, let alone someone who could fix cars and get paid for doing it. But after taking a moment to think about it, it made sense. He fit the scene, so to say, and it somehow added to the edgy look he already had going on for him.

You didn’t know as much about your friends as you probably should’ve.

“So you guys actually got the recording room done? Are you and Chan using it now?” You asked nonchalantly, a terrible attempt to slide Chan into the conversation. Changbin must’ve known a few things about Chan that could help you quench your nerves for the upcoming date.

Changbin sent you a sideways look, letting you know that you weren’t as slick as you thought you were.

“Ah, Chan…” He hummed, the two of you finally getting close enough to the university to discern the different buildings. “What’s up with you two?” He asked hesitantly, a hint of a frown on his brow.

“Well—I mean, I like him a lot.” You fumbled for the right words, though you knew that Changbin wasn’t one to rush you. As annoying as he could be, he was a good listener. “And he just asked me out—”

“He did?”

Well, you thought he was a good listeners

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Earlier he asked if I wanted to go out on a date or something—”

“Or something?”

You shoved him to the side, though his heavy body barely moved an inch.

“Would you stop interrupting me? I’m serious.” You huffed, frustrated.

“I am too.”

You froze—huh?

Your eyes searched his for a moment, his words not as comforting as you wanted them to be, instead his questioning only made your stomach twist in more knots than they had been in before. You really didn’t know anything about Chan, and talking to someone who did only made you hesitant about continuing with this first date of yours.

Sure, you weren’t one to believe rumors about people you barely knew—but it was the fact that you barely knew Chan that made you so nervous.

“Well I’m a little surprised that Chan asked you out.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“Uh…” Changbin paused, searching for his next words carefully with a contemplative hum. “It’s nothing bad. I mean, Chan’s one of the best people I know.”

“But…?”

He stopped to wait for you to run your student ID along the sensor, listening to the automatic click of the door and using it as a stall for time. He was trying to find the right way to word what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to blindside you, nor did he want to sabotage his friend by telling you something that might steer you away.

He waited for you to take a step inside the dorms before continuing with a hushed voice.

“Chan is… very selfless let’s say. He doesn’t really take the time to date per se. He’s work oriented. Not to say he hasn’t had girlfriends before, but they never really—”

“Became anything?”

That was what you had been contemplating. If the date went wrong, could you talk to Chan afterwards? Would he still be that person you could call if you wanted to step away from the world? You couldn’t find yourself feeling upset if that happened to be the outcome.

But with the small look of suspicion that Changbin sent, his brow curling upwards, you quickly backpedaled.

“He mentioned something about it while we were on the phone.” You rushed to save yourself.

Taking your answer without question, he stopped. You were both standing outside of your room, the quiet hallway encasing the both of you and chilling you to the bone more than the night air had. Changbin bit his tongue.

“Chan is an amazing friend. But I’ve never really seen him as a boyfriend before.” He sighed, scratching his cheek. “And as much of a little shit you are… I care about you enough to want you to be happy.”

“Is this you warning me?”

“No.” His mouth formed a thin line, he really had no idea how to word anything. It was beginning to frustrate him. “Just be aware that he isn’t the most observant guy when it comes to himself, so be patient with the guy.”

Okay, that helped you none whatsoever.

You sighed, pushing your dorm door open and nodding finally for Changbin.

“Well, thank you, Bin. For walking me and all that…”

Your gratitude was pitiful, but Changbin smiled wide nonetheless, glad that he could help you out despite his advice being absolutely terrible.

“Anytime, Y/n.” He ruffled your hair before you could stop him. “But next time, call me before you decide to be stupid and walk alone agian, okay?”

You smiled.

“Yeah. I promise, Bin. Thanks—seriously.”

As you closed the door, you missed the way Changbin’s lip quirked, his ears once again shining a red in the dim lighting of the hallway. He chuckled, shaking his head.

He wished both Chan and Jisung luck—you really were a handful.

“So this is a date?”

You had absolutely no idea what to say, your nervous gaze on the road in front of you as Chan glanced over at you from his place behind the wheel of his beloved Subaru Crosstrek—he had gone on a cute spiel about how he managed to scrounge up enough money from producing his tracks to afford the down payment on the car. It was cute only because he giggled every time he mentioned some miniscule detail that wasn’t necessary for the development of the story.

He always apologized when he got off track, but those were your favorite parts.

And you still had no idea what to say.

“Yeah, Y/n. A date. Have you ever been on one of those before?” He joked, taking another turn into yet another neighborhood.

He had to have gone down at least four streets already—

“Does a slow dance at a mediocre prom count?”

“A what?”

You snorted, feeling the telltale heat of your cheeks reddening. You were such a loser, the best you could do was tell him about your failed relationships?

“I mean, Jung Wooyoung was pretty hot, so I guess it could count. Granted, Minho stepped in before he could kiss me at the end of the song.”

“You’re kidding.” He looked close to ripping his cheeks with how wide his smile was stretching.

His eyes flickered to you and a shiver ran down your spine at the way he took one hand off the wheel and leaned against the center console. You were either terrified of him crashing or really turned on by the way his biceps bulged at the movement.

You cleared your throat, “Minho was always really adamant about keeping me away from all the funny business.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately not. My brother sucks.”

Chan burst out laughing. “That’s why he pulled that, ‘what are your intentions with my baby sister’ act?”

“He didn’t.”

“He did. But he backed off so quickly, I was convinced that it was a joke.”

You nearly choked, your eyes widening as you suddenly threw yourself around to look at him, unable to feel surprised at the way he was already looking at you with a charming smile.

“He did what?”

“Yeah,” Chan shrugged, shifting back to look at the road. “I asked him why it mattered and he just kind of backed off.”

That was right—Minho was scared of Chan.

You would never forget that fun fact for as long as you lived, and it was all thanks to Bang Chan. It really had you rethinking the whole reason why you were nervous in the first place. Chan was the only person in your life that had managed to get rid of stress rather than add to it, and you were obviously worried over nothing. Chan was amazing.

And you were crazy.

You laughed, catching Chan’s attention, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips without you noticing. How you had managed to have him whipped within a matter of days was a complete mystery to him. But there he was, staring at your lips and risking his damn life while doing so. Chan was hopeful, he wanted things to go well this time, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure of that.

“Where are you taking me, you maniac?” You giggled in exasperation as he took yet another turn into a neighborhood, house stacked upon house.

Sure, it was nice to drive around with him, but you were beginning to get antsy. Even more so as Chan continued to look over at you and smirk, his smile as infuriating as it was attractive.

“We’re almost there, hold on.”

“That doesn’t tell me where—”

Turning down a dead-end, Chan lifted his hand to your mouth with an emphasized “shhh”.

Maybe he was a maniac and he was planning on killing you as soon as you reached the end of the street. You definitely wouldn’t be able to find your way back to the main road if he tried, so it was definitely a possibility.

“Don’t worry about it.” He hushed.

With a small scoff, you puckered your lips in a pout and they briefly brushed against the palm of his hand. With the action, your eyes widened as his head snapped your direction. Immediately, your lips pulled into a tight line, your stomach tying up in knots as he dropped his hand and let it fall to your thigh, causing your whole body to go ridged. What was wrong with you?

Chan chuckled, patting your thigh in an attempt to dissolve your tenseness, but it only proved to make your clothes feel much tighter than they had been before. You were physically going to melt into the seat with how hot you were getting, and you sure as hell hoped you weren’t sweating as much as you thought you were.

But the feeling of his hand wasn’t unpleasant—it was warm, but not so much that it was uncomfortable, which was surprising considering how your skin was close to melting off the bone. It simply rested there, occasionally he drummed a nonexistent beat against it with his first two fingers, though you suspected that he hadn’t even noticed that he had been doing that.

Without you realizing, he pulled the car into park, his eyes amused as he watched you stare at his hand for a little longer.

Something else—you definitely were.

“We’re here.” Chan said, lifting his hand away from your thigh to pull the key from the ignition.

You weren’t upset that he had moved his hand, but you couldn’t deny that disappointment had started to bubble up.

Looking out your window, you noticed that you were, in fact, at the end of the dead-end road. But instead of a dense thicket of trees or a mountain of concrete blocking it off, there sat a decrepit and grey building. The maroon of the bricks had been worn and chipped, and the large barn looking doors were rusted and close to falling off their hinges. You can tell that it had once been beautiful with the large stone bird watching over on a centered pedestal.

Chan opened his door to get out and you followed, despite how strange it might’ve been that he took you to an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

“What is this?” You asked, almost shell shocked at the sheer size of the building as you both stepped closer.

“It’s an old fire station.”

Old didn’t do the place justice—every new fire station you had seen was pristine and white, large open door garages lining the first floor. The one in front of you was nothing like the ones in town.

“I used to live in this neighborhood before I moved to Sydney. I was very young and don’t really remember much about it, but I do remember this place.” He smiled, looking up at the two storied building. “When I came back I never expected it to be still standing after fifteen years. I thought the two would’ve torn it down and built a convenience store there or something, but nope, it’s still here.”

It was nice to see his face light up while talking about something he cared about. It was endearing.

He then grabbed your hand with a small wink and dragged you forward, though you didn’t put up much of a fight at all. Every part of you screamed about how nice his hand felt around yours, how his palms weren’t too calloused to be rough but enough to want them all over the rest of your body. His pale skin pretty with the contrast of his raised veins. Veiny hands were nice… You really were just reverting back to your horny high school self, weren’t you?

You cleared your throat.

“But why did you bring me here?” You questioned, looking warily at the back of his head.

You weren’t scared, but you were almost certain that a building that was decades old wasn’t a normal date site.

“Why not?” Chan shrugged, hoping to god that you couldn’t see just how terrified he was.

“Maybe because I was expecting to go watch a movie or go to a restaurant?”

He glanced back with a raised brow. “Do you want to do those things?”

“I’d rather chew off my foot,” you admitted, catching him off guard for a moment. “But I’m trying to make you feel like the weird one here.”

Weird one indeed. He had spent the entire night before without sleep, not coming up with a new track, but thinking of where exactly to bring you. He contemplated how to explain to you the reason why he was so exhausted and jittery was because he didn’t want you to leave the date thinking that he was some average guy. Chan didn’t want you to think he was boring. So he could be weird if it meant you wanted to see him again.

You shared a smile, both of your nerves fading away with each passing second. Of course, Chan had nothing to worry about.

He proceeded to pull you through the old rickety door of the station, completely ignoring the way the visible slivers of his chest flexed when he tugged the door open with one good yank. Now that you were actually thinking about it, his outfit was one of the best you’d seen him in; a simple black muscle tee topped with a heavy denim jacket, and his jeans whitewashed and ripped.

It was simple but effective considering you couldn’t keep your eyes off the strips of flesh that peaked behind his jacket. If only the autumn breeze had taken a day off.

The further the two of you got into the building, the more excited Chan looked. His eyes lit up and there was suddenly a bounce in his step. Not to mention the way his grip on your hand tightened to the point where he was nearly cutting off the circulation. But it was nice nonetheless. You didn’t have the heart to be upset with him.

Your eyes flew around to all the different old contraptions that must’ve been shiny in their prime. With torn hoses all over the place, and precariously placed pipes, you had no idea whether to be amazed that they hadn’t succumbed to the elements or terrified that if you took one wrong step you would fall and get impaled.

Looking over at Chan, you giggled as he began to unravel a wound up hose, momentarily releasing your hand to act like a complete child.

“So what was your plan when we got here? Get me in a secluded place so you could tie me up and kill me?” You teased, offering him a smile.

Chan wanted to do two of those three things—that was for sure.

“What? You don’t want to explore this magnificent building with me?” He asked despite himself.

“So you didn’t plan some elaborate picnic with candles and fancy homemade French food?”

Chan paused for a moment, lips fighting a smile. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. The hours of preparation was for naught, and Chan could care less.

He hummed, “Well if you mean a blanket on the floor and take-out, then yeah. No candles though. I have a bad feeling that if we were to light any fire within ten miles of this place it would turn to dust. Which would be pretty ironic considering it is a fire station—”

“Are you rambling?”

Chan froze, mouth open to deny your question, but found that it wasn’t completely false and shut it.

“...it’s probably cold too.” He added lastly.

You smiled.

“Sounds good to me.”

You then proceeded to struggle your way up a flight of unstable spiral stairs with Chan close behind—so close that his arms were almost completely around you. He assured you that it was only so he wouldn’t be at fault if you fell. But it felt nice whenever his chest brushed lightly against your back, so you let his lame excuse slide.

The food was, in fact, cold. But it was still good since you really couldn’t go wrong with traditional Korean food.

And so the rest of the evening played out, the two of you sharing pleasantries and learning about one another, with many cracked jokes about your brother and his friends, only strategically avoiding Jisung all together.

Chan went on about his story, how he had two younger siblings back in Australia and a set of loving parents that believed in each and every one of his dreams as he grew up, and supported his pursuit of becoming a producer. You bit your tongue, keeping your questions of “do you miss them?” and “do you still see them?” to yourself. Still, Chan seemed happy enough, you thought. Considering you would be miserable if you had to spend your time with someone who complained and sulked the whole time. You were glad he could talk about his family without falling into a pit of missing them.

That date was pretty perfect, despite its oddities.

Who knew someone could be a by-the-book romantic and an original dork at the same time?

Your own thoughts had you chuckling into your water, almost making you cough, but thankfully Chan hadn’t noticed, his attention too zeroed in on all the food in front of him.

“Oh shit—I forgot all about that thing!” He suddenly exclaimed, his eyes locked on a rusty fireman’s pole that ran up into a hole in the floor. Chan hadn’t even finished his (second) bowl of food when he jumped up and ran up to the death trap. The thing didn’t even have any padding at the bottom to protect someone from breaking their legs, and he was excited about that?

Suddenly, you let out a laugh—it was the kind that comes out unexpectedly and makes a loud, unattractive noise and it surprised you both. Your hand clamped down over your mouth on impulse before your shocked expression broke, a swarm of giggles leaving your covered lips and forcing a pink tinge over your cheeks. Chan could only stare at you in awe, trying to think of everything else that could beat your laugh in the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, but he came up blank.

“Come down the pole with me.”

His words had you freezing mid-laugh, eyes wide.

“What? No way am I doing that. What if I get pole burn?”

“Here,” Chan threw his jacket over your shoulders, surprising you with the flood of warmth cascading around you. “Now you can’t get pole burn.”

You pushed your arms through the arms of the jacket, silently relishing in the warm weight.

“Ah, look at you Romeo. I see that you’re trying to make up for all the years I missed going on dates. How romantic.”

“I try.”

With a wink, he was grabbing onto the pole all of a sudden and wrapping his legs around it. You barely had time to stare at the image of his thick biceps curling around the pole before he was descending down it with a laugh of his own. You leaned forward to watch him hit the floor, his knees bending to absorb the impact. He smiled up at you, the sight blinding.

“Your turn!”

“Did I ever mention that I’m kind of allergic to bad ideas?”

Chan snickered, leaning his hands on the pole and shaking it to show you just how “sturdy” the thing was. The wiggle and creak didn’t set you at ease, that was for sure.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. You just watched me do it!” Was his genius response.

The night was beginning to just become you counting how many times Chan said or did something that made you think he was a child.

“Okay, I just don’t understand why you want me to go down this damn pole! Is it some right of passage or something? Do you only go out with the girls who have the balls to do something this stupid?”

“Slide down here and find out.”

He got you there. You really did want to find out.

So you bit the inside of your cheek and wrapped your shaky hands around the rust crusted pole. How Chan managed to do so so easily without sleeves was baffling and a little sexy for whatever stupid reason. You had a thick layer of denim protecting you, and you still felt like you were going to be filleted open.

“Don’t think about it,” he encouraged with a soft voice. “Just jump. I’ve got you.”

And at the words of a poet, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, taking a step off the wooden floor and letting gravity pull you down. You could hear the rust tug and catch on the fabric of Chan’s jacket, but only for a second, because it only lasted a second before you felt hands grab your sides and pillow your impact. A surge of adrenaline had you breathing heavy as Chan cheered lightly in your ear.

“There. You did it.” He poked your forehead with a chuckle, getting you to open your blown eyes. “You have successfully completed the initiation.”

Your heart felt heavy and beat hard against your ribs as he straightened you out, hands finding purchase in his jacket. Subtly he was admiring how you looked in his clothes, but he would never admit that sappy fact to anyone.

You smiled; admittedly shakily. “Ah, yes. Validation. My favorite.”

Chan admired how you could keep releasing quips despite your fear. You weren’t one to be deterred, that was for sure.

“You have an unlimited supply of sarcasm in you, huh?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t run out yet.”

He smiled and you smiled, it was a good moment—the best of the day. A moment where you were glad you listened to him and literally took the leap. Ready to take another one, your eyes dropped to his lips and his dropped to yours.

And he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You weren’t completely caught off guard, but you definitely were. His hand that wasn’t preoccupied with fiddling with your fingers found your face, palm cupping your jaw and urging your head to tilt to meet his kiss better. It was gentle, as you had expected from Chan, and you were thankful for that.

His lips were softer than you expected and you prayed that the hand that held your cheek wouldn't be able to feel the way your face was burning. The way he intertwined your fingers was more intimate than the kiss itself and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting light-headed. You lost yourself to the way your shared breaths echoed around the large room every time your lips separated only to reconnect again immediately.

Your first kiss—well, your first real kiss. Surely that one you had shared with Kang Chanhee back in your first year of high school didn’t count. You had only gotten away with it since Minho was home sick that day, anyway.

It was much warmer than your last kiss, that was for sure. His jacket kept you shielded from the cold air and his body secreted a natural heat that had you pressing closer, which in turn sent him a signal to push forward as well.

Suddenly, his teeth bit down on the sensitive flesh of your lip, pulling a taut gasp from your throat.

The noise had Chan withholding a groan, pushing him to break the passionate exchange, his hazy eyes meeting your wide ones.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice small and unsure.

He could see the way your lips shined with not only your spit but his own. In some sick and twisted way, he was pleased to see the redness that the kiss brought to your puckered lips. It was satisfying. It was a sort of claim, and he was proud to hold it.

"Nothing. Just admiring my work." He grinned.

You hardly had time to register his words when the hand wrapped around yours was used to yank you forward, Chan’s mouth finding yours once again in a quick peck, leaving you just about a hundred degrees warmer than you originally felt.

[internalsealpanic]

Better Die Than Doubt

Summary:  You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure.

A/n: To no one’s shock, this entire fic was unplanned. I was possessed by the urge to make it (translation: I got the urge to write this and one of my enablers said do it).  This story should be treated more or less as a horror story. Nothing is being glorified here except how dorky Jason is. That being said,  PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. This fic contains quite a few triggering things and I really don’t want you to be blindsided.  Also thanks to @knightfall05x for helping me write this whole thing. Thanks to @batarella (HOE) for action writing tips.

Warnings: graphic violence, stalking, emotional manipulation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, drugging, nongraphic description of rape, and rape aftermath 

masterlist

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. You could practically feel the oncoming headache the way you could sense someone coming down the hall. This is what happens when you’re running on just 5 hours of restless sleep for the last few days. This headache was also not helped by the fact that this was your fifth coffee in the past 30 minutes. You probably should not be drinking this much caffeine this late but intelligent decisions weren’t exactly your strong suit this week. You rub the sides of your forehead feeling another wave of nausea. 

 You check the time again and groan.  It’s been one-and-a-half hours since your agreed upon time had lapsed and yet one Jason Peter Todd was nowhere to be seen. You curse, nerves edging, and mind fraying.  To be perfectly fair to him, he is a busy guy, vigilante, and all. You understood that fairly well- and this was sudden to say the least. You can’t really fault him for being a bit late but the long wait was ratcheting up your anxiety. Again, the coffee didn’t help but considering it was the only thing you could keep down since last night, you didn’t have much choice. 

 Last night. 

 Your stomach tumbled. You cup your hand over your mouth feeling your coffee traveling back up your esophagus. You let out a long exasperated breath, letting yourself sink into the booth. You look out the window, eyes flickering wildly searching for Jason. Your hands tighten around your mug. The feeling of being watched made you bristle. 

 Jason, well, Jason wasn’t hard to spot. The man was 6 feet 4 inches of pure muscle and leather. Having a handsome face and a ‘fuck you’ look in his eyes also helped.  In short, the man was hard to ignore. You wave weakly to him as he dismounts his bike, a gesture far too small for your usual bombastic self. Jason’s smarmy smile greets you as he returns the gesture with his gloved hand. The motion is slow and cautious, rickety in a way. You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure. 

 “Jesus, y/n, you look like Timbo” Jason chuckles sliding into the booth his green eyes shining with scrutiny. You look at him flatly not having enough energy to properly respond to his jab. He winces seeing your lack of reaction. “Rough night, huh?” He asks flagging down a waitress, who looked quite pleased to get away from her previous table.  

 You nod weakly, slowly as if the fact that it had been a rough couple of days had just sunk in. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice small and a little threadbare. You drum your fingers against your increasingly cold mug. The waitress sets a couple of warm mugs in front of you. Her soft smile makes you uneasy. You and Jason mutter a thanks as she tells you to wave her over if you need anything else. Her warm brown eyes boring into the stark purple bruise on your face. You shrink and smile sheepishly at her.

 “I’m fi-”

 “I am going to throw these sugar packets at you if you say you’re fine.”

 “Damn, ok, Mr.Kettle,” You laugh. His concern startles a genuine laugh out of you. You’re sincerely surprised how lively the sound that comes out of you is. “You know if you keep sounding like that, Jay, you’re gonna wreck the whole stone-cold badass thing you got going,”

 “Y/n..”

 You huff running your hand through your disheveled hair, trying in vain, to soothe your mind. What was the best way to put it? You swallowed, gathering your lapsing thoughts. “Sooo uh-” The collar of your shirt suddenly felt tight around your neck. “-I-” You breathe. “-I found around 4 or 5 of Blackmask’s boys and Deathstroke-No, I’m not shitting you- in my- my apartment for- well- the third time in the last two months, can I crash at your place? Just ‘til I find a new place. Oh and also how do I get rid of them?”

  He blinks as his brain takes its sweet fucking time digesting what you had just said.  He leans back groaning and running his hands over his face. He looks like he’d like to deck you if he wasn’t too busy being concerned for your welfare. You shrink again, feeling bad for springing it on him. The decision to leave out the gory details of your hectic week suddenly felt like the wisest choice but you had no doubt he’ll get it out of you at some point. 

 “I’ll skip the obvious ‘why did you wait three times before moving’ question because I feel like I’m probably going to get an aneurysm from your answer,”  Your reasoning wasn’t quite that stupid. You were mucking about Sionis’s operation. The fucker decided to branch out his little enterprise into your city and like hell, you were gonna leave well enough alone. After you had set fire to one of his warehouses, you thought that would explain the False Facers. But Deathstroke? Deathstroke was a mystery. You’ve also been mucking about his business but you two have always been civil if not friendly. Frenemies of sorts, you guessed. You’ve been encountering him a lot in the last few days. You had figured that Blackmask had hired him but considering he threw two men out of your apartment window last night, you���re not entirely sure.  You make an affronted noise that Jason elects to ignore. 

 “What did they do?”

 “Aside from necessitating a visit to IKEA?  Nothing.”

 “Did they take anything? Leave a message?”

 “Nope, nothing-” You furrow your brow trying to recall. You shake your head. “-They just made sure I knew they broke in.” You add, shrugging your shoulder. You wince at the movement. Your shoulder still aches from being hit with a bat. Jason’s shoulders shift, moving as if to reach out to you but stops himself. Instead, he continues with his line of questioning. “Sweetheart, there’s gotta be something missing.” 

 You frown, biting your cheek. Jason rests his chin on his hand, green eyes watching you and urging you to think back. It was either the weight of his gaze or the lack of sleep that was making it hard to recall. You close your eyes and catalog your belongings, analyzing the mental picture you have like a crime scene like how he taught you months ago, breaking it down into the smallest pieces of information and bringing it back into a bigger picture.  Still, nothing. Nothing of note was missing. You shake your head and shrug your uninjured shoulder. Jason glares at the immobile one. You shake your head silently telling him it wasn’t from last night which just made him clench his jaw. 

 “Evidence?”

 You shake your head.  He frowns baffled. 

 “Tech?”

 You shake your head again. 

 “Anything personal?” He asks jokingly. 

 “I-” A cold horror washes over you trailed by embarrassment. Your vibrator had been missing and so were a couple of your lingerie sets. You feel your stomach drop to the floor. “Oh god, Jay- I- Please, let me stay with you.” 

 “And have them steal my stuff?” He chuckles. 

 “Please, Jay, like you have anything worth stealing.” Jason frowns at you scrutinizing your face. You level him a glare but it was more in an effort to fight down a blush than anything venomous. Jason’s jaw unclenches and his face breaks into a shit-eating grin. “What color was it?”

 “Wha-”

 “Bzzzzzzzt ” 

 If you weren’t blushing before, you are now. Heat climbs up your spine. Your mouth felt dry. 

 “Well, what color was it, sweetheart?” Jason drawls, his voice dropping an octave. You shiver but bristle just as quickly. You bite your cheek and glare at him. “HA. HA. HA. Funny, Todd.”

 “Was it Red Hood Red?” Jason teases, winking and raising his cup of coffee to his lips. 

 “Nightwing blue” You deadpan. Jason coughed into his drink.  You preen with satisfaction. 

 “Does it make stupid puns while you go at it? ”

 “Yup,” You say, the ‘p’ popping. “That’s part of the appeal.” You joke smiling into your mug.  Jason snorts. “How is that supposed to be sexy?”

 You shrug, a sharper less tired smile cutting across your features. “Dunno man. Nightwing is pretty sexy if you ask me.” You wink.  

 Jason makes a fake gagging noise. Well, it seems fake with how theatrical the gesture is but with bats? You never could tell. You roll your eyes and giggle.  Jason’s shoulders loosen at your bubble of laughter, his face slipping into one of his sheepish smiles. “In all seriousness, y/n, you can stay at my place.”

 You smile at him, your usual fluorescent smile. 

Click

 Click

 Click

 A man from across the street watches you intently through the lens of a camera. 

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 Slade throws the photos across Roman’s desk, each glossy piece of paper containing a candid photo of you looking increasingly frayed and anxious.  

 Roman marvels at how your usually larger than life figure shrank into your puffy coat, how small and malleable and inexperienced you looked. He notes the panicked look in your eyes in every one of the photos and savors it. He couldn't wait to see it for himself. 

 In one photo, you're looking over your shoulder as you enter your office building. 

 In one, you’re tracing circles on a child’s hand with your thumb,  beaming brightly as you told some wild tale to distract the child. 

 In another, you're slumped in your desk chair as you think over a case looking absolutely exasperated but determined. 

 In yet another one, you're locking lips with a man, his hand trailing up your shirt. Roman made sure to give the man some swimming lessons a few weeks prior.  

 In the photo in Roman’s hand, you're at the emergency room looking like you haven't slept in 2 days. Your face was bruised and your clothes were torn in several places where Slade had managed to land a blow. Your delicate skin marred with cuts and trickling blood. Absolutely gorgeous.   

 He examines it closely. The photo was taken just a few hours ago. You look like you're going to cry but your shoulders and jaw are squared more frustrated than scared. There's a fire in your eyes that threatens to level the city. A thrill rides up his spine at the prospect of extinguishing it. 

 “This is why you wanted to throw my men out the window?”

 Slade hums. He shrugs and the edge of his lips curl into a smile. “It was the only way to convince the kid that we’re both after her-” His eye drifts to your face. Appraising but impassive. “The kid’s scared out of her mind and exhausted at this point.”

 Slade had a point. Roman had to give him that. It wouldn’t be obvious to the casual observer but it would be plain as day to anyone like Roman who had been studying you for a while. You weren’t quite as meticulous with your appearance as Roman thought you should be (He would work on that later) but the dishevelment in your appearance was obvious. The slight dip in your shoulders in place of the prim posture that you usually employed was a blatant indication of your weariness. And the falter in your smile, the flickering in your eyes, and the number of times you let yourself bite your cheek showed the cracks in your fearless image. 

 Who knew weeks upon weeks of chaos could weather Minos City’s own budding hero? 

 In the photo next to Roman’s hand, your laughing face is stark and lively against the drab atmosphere of the diner, bubbling laughter carving life into your exhausted features making you look more like the shining paragon your city has come to rely on. The man sitting in front of you is laughing too. The sharp edges of his grin softened by the fondness in his eyes. It was hard not to recognize him even with such a foreign expression plastered onto his face.  Roman crushes the photo in his hand. 

 “BUT NOW SHE’S WITH THAT SCUMBAG RED HOOD”

 “And she’s now with the Red Hood. In his secluded safe house. Weakened and far from help. Most likely thinking that she’s safe under his protection and blissfully unaware of the tracker I put in her arm.”

 “I see… It seems like you are worth the pay.”

 Slade made no effort in hiding his smug grin.  

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 “Jay, I really am sorry about this.” You mumble for what seemed like the fifth time in the past half hour. 

 “I sincerely hope you’re apologizing for the fact that you neglected to tell me you had bruised ribs before getting on my bike and not the fact that you’re staying with me because two crazy assholes decided your place needed remodeling.” Jason exasperates, pinching the bridge of his nose. You feel kind of annoyed by the gesture but he did have a point especially with your city’s less than smooth roads. You were also pretty banged up. As it turns out, facing off against a bunch of goons plus a master assassin is not good for your health. You swore viciously under your breath. Now, you weren’t expecting Deathstroke to go easy on you despite your rapport but the guy really didn’t have to throw you around like a rag doll. Even with your power to adjust the odds, it was a miracle that you escaped intact. 

 “Well, Mr.Pot, you ride your bike all the time even with broken ribs.” You bite back. Jason rolls his eyes unaffected by the distilled venom in your voice.

  “Well, one of us is a stone-cold badass- ”

 “And the other is a sasquatch with a stick up his ass.” You sneer snatching the beer bottle from Jason. Your tone was far too fond and playful to have any actual bite. Jason chuckles at you and ruffles your hair before snatching it back and handing you a bottle of water.

 You huff taking the bottle from him and following him to the couch. He sits down on the couch patting the seat beside him. You plopped on to the couch, placing your sock feet on his lap. He grabs your ankles and throws your feet back at you. You just as quickly throw them back on and this time you do it with an absolutely delighted smirk on your face. “Rude,” He mumbles but doesn’t attempt to extricate you again. 

 “So Deathstroke, huh?” Jason starts, side-eyeing you over his beer. You adjust yourself to sit up a little straighter.

 “You mean the asshat who broke my favorite lamp last night?”

 “Who the hell has a favorite lamp?”

 “Me! And get to your point.”

 “Have you two- yanno?” Jason jokes, his eyebrows wiggling and hands gesturing vaguely. Your eyes grow wide and heat creeps up your neck and face. You scowl at Jason throwing a pillow at his face for good measure. He catches it with ease much to your frustration giving you his trademark triumphant grin. You kick at him with no real force. 

 “NO! What kind of soap opera shit is that?” You giggle into your drink. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. The guy was skilled and pretty witty.  You also had eyes and the man was handsome but something always felt strange about taking it further. You were civil but you kept your distance. 

 You pout at Jason again causing him to chuckle. “What? I’m just saying it’ll air out some tension~” He suggests winking. 

 “Oh my actual god, I hate you. I sincerely, truly hate you.” You laugh, kicking at his thigh. Jason makes an obviously fake hurt noise which draws out even more giggles out of you. Some tension in Jason’s shoulders releasing upon hearing the bubbly sounds. 

 “You speaking from experience, Jay?”

 Jason shakes his head and coughs. “Catwoman-” Cough. “Talia Al Ghul-” Cough. “Sorry, sweetheart, seems like I have a really bad cough this week.”  

 And that is how you spend the rest of the night questioning Bruce’s love life. 

“Food is in the fridge,” Jason says pointing to the said fridge which was sorely lacking magnets, sounding like a somewhat tired single parent. 

 “Do I look like I can keep anything down?”

 Jason snatches the water bottle you had abandoned on the side table next to the recliner. “With that big mouth of yours? Sure.” Jason teases lightly booping you on the nose with your water bottle. “Get some rest.”

 “Yes, mother” You sighed, burying yourself into the thick comforter he’d given you, crumpled water bottle in hand. He ruffles your hair. 

 “You know you’re safe here, right? ” The question startles you. You shift uncomfortably, pulling the comforter tightly around your shoulders. You shrug at him, not entirely certain how to answer. You know Jason’s safe house is, well, safe but you also thought your apartment was too. Your stomach twisted. 

 Jason squeezed your shoulder probably sensing the spiral of your thoughts. He smiles down at you, probably. It was hard to tell with the helmet.  

 “If you want, I can-”

 “No, Jay, I’ll be fine here. You can go on patrol. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

 The thing with Jason was that even when he was so big and bulky and hella intimidating, his empathy towards others had a bad habit of always shining through despite the layers of armor and sarcasm. You squeeze his hand, pressing little circles into his palm, and smile up at him. It was forced but it was the best you could do. Jason ruffles your hair again before letting go and making his way to the window. 

 “Get some sleep.”

 “Aye aye cap’n” You yawn settling into a slump on the couch. Jason can’t help but smile fondly at you.  You wave him a sleepy goodby before he sets off. 

You passed out on the couch, an old habit you never grew out of. You always slept on the couch when you felt uneasy. It may have been some sort of way to separate stress from your bedroom. It sure as shit wasn’t for safety reasons. Your equipment was dispersed throughout your apartment but your weapons were usually stowed away in your room. 

 You feel a hand running gently through your hair, smoothing away all your apprehension. 

 “Jay” You grouse, your hand halfheartedly swatting at the hand stroking your hair. You bury yourself further into the warmth of the comforter feeling the need to shrink away from the touch. You feel a soft prick on your neck.  

 Your eyes fly open.  

 Shit.

 The hand tangles in your hair. It throws you to the wall. The air is knocked out of your lungs. Your ribs scream. You scrabble to your feet. Your limbs fail you. They flail uselessly. Your breaths pick up. Your chest feels like it's caving. 

 "JAY" You shriek. “HELP.” A large hand grasps your throat. A rush of adrenaline kicks in. You thrash. You kick. Your hit lands. Another grasps your ankles. You scream. You swear viciously. Another grabs at your wrists. Something rough winds around your wrists and ankles. 

 The world tilts into an odd angle. Your head feels heavy so do your arms and your legs and everything. 

 "Jaaay" You slur, the air in your lungs becoming sluggish like everything else. "Jay" you sob again, knowing he wouldn't come. Not when he was so far away. 

 "Shut up you …..  bitch" You feel a swift kick to your stomach. It barely registers above the haze. 

 "Hey man-"

 "What? The …. man said we …… rough her up."

 "We can?"

 "Yeah, ……, said so"

 Your eyes blink, stupid, and uncomprehending.  Distantly, you hear yourself grunting and whimpering. You can feel their blows but your body is too far away, too inaccessible. It was strange to physically feel yourself drift away. 

.

.

.

 Roman traces the sun shaped scar radiating on your shoulder with a leather-clad hand. The one shot he’d managed to land on you the first time you’d stormed one of his warehouses. You were all cocksure and quick wit and boisterous laughter. You really had the devil’s own luck but it seems to have run out. Not that Roman’s got any complaints. Not when he’s got you laying at his feet,  tied up and vulnerable. 

 He crouches down, hand on his chin.  His eyes roam appreciatively over your sleeping form, appraising you like a premium cut of meat. You look pretty against the black silk sheets he’d chosen.  He sighs content with his prize. He traces the tip of his knife over your cheek, a dark purple bruise maring your features stark against the stainless surface of the blade. Slade really was quite careless when handling you. Not that Roman has any plans on being any gentler.  

 He lets his blade drift down, trailing down your neck down to the flimsy protection of your oversized shirt.  Your steady breaths falter. You keep your eyes shut trying to gather more information but it’s hard not to focus off the tip of the blade cold against your warm skin even as the blade cuts through the thin fabric of your shirt. A large hand grasps your face roughly. 

 “I know you're awake, baby-” You blanch still not opening your eyes. The grip on your jaw tightens. You grin like a madman. “It's rude to keep daddy waiting.” 

 “Sorry, Sionis, I was really hoping not to have to wake up  you’re ugly mug.” You sneer, voice thick and raspy with sleep but still full with your trademark confidence. Roman looks more amused than irritated.  Your body and mind are still at the cusp of sleep. You wriggle and almost cry out with joy when you feel them move. You mind the hand on your jaw and its tight grip. 

 “Baby, I won’t tell you a-” You spit in his face, cracking an eye open to see his reaction. A bloody grin spreads across your face like wildfire when you see the annoyance on his face. 

 “You’re going to regret that” He growls, wiping his face with a torn piece of your shirt. 

 “Oh please-” Something cracks across your jaw. 

 “The next time it’ll be the other end,” It takes a moment for your mind to catch on. You stare at the hilt of the blade for a moment before letting loose another smarmy grin. His violent reaction spurs you on. Yeah, you can definitely see why Jason thinks you’re going to age him twenty years. “Oh please, You like my face too much for that.”

 “You really wanna test that?”

 “Nope,” You say, spitting into his eye and landing a punch square in his face. You cackle like a madwoman when he goes down. You don’t bother hiding the delighted chirps that escape your chest. 

 Being petty, you give him a swift kick to the face before dashing towards the door.  You launch yourself, feeling like you can fly. The copper taste in your tongue almost feels sweet. 

 Your hand grasps the door when a hand tangles itself in your hair. 

 Roman throws you back onto the mattress, the springs digging into your back. You scratch and claw and thrash against the large hand wrapped around your throat. You snarl as Roman leans closer, his body pinning yours against the mattress, his weight immobilizing your fatigued limbs. A sweet-smelling cloth covers your mouth and nose, you gasp in surprise, inhaling the scent. Your mind is already sluggish by the time it catches on. 

 Your vision dims. 

 You feel hollowed out. 

 Your limbs fall away, arms drooping and pliant against the silk-covered mattress. The cloth feels too much against your skin. Vaguely, you feel horror prickling up your spine or maybe it was just the springs again. 

 Roman pulls away. You think you breathe a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of him lifted. He straddles your body, grinning down at you. Your mouth falls open to say something. You want to say that you curse him out or that you threaten him. The sound you make is small. Your tongue feels too heavy.  No, something is pressing it down, you think. 

 Above you, Roman is a towering colossus. You’re vaguely aware of the shifting of his hips. He removes his gloved hand from your mouth and caresses the side of your face with mock gentleness. His movements are sluggish and syrupy.  You make another noise when you realize to some degree of horror that isn’t. Your mind felt heavy and useless. 

 He snaps his fingers. The sound is dull like it's contending with water. A muffled set of steps approaches you. A man, you realize. You don't think you’ve noticed him before. His dark shape is messy and incomprehensible. A red dot flashes stark against his form. The mechanical sounds of a shutter drift in and out of your mind. You turn your head back to Roman at the sound of shifting fabric.

 Above you, Roman, already without his suit jacket, loosens his tie, eyes staring hungrily at you. The pit of your stomach feels painfully cold. You blink at him stupidly. He chuckles, grasping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. You protest against his touch.

 “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be the star of our little show like the filthy attention whore you really are. ” He laughs. It rumbles like thunder in your ears. 

 The world falls away. 

Click

Click

Click

.

.

.

.

.

One 

 Two

 .

.

.

.

One

 You feel a prick on your neck. 

 Hot breaths fan against your face. 

 Your body is too warm. 

 You don’t want to know why. 

 Twenty-five, you continue counting. 

 You feel fabric shift against you. 

 Something sharp digs itself into your flesh.  

 One 

 Two

 Three

 .

.

.

 Three?

 Something’s crushing your windpipe.

 Your body is aching. You’re not entirely sure whether it’s from use or disuse and by who. 

 “Good girl”

 Thirty

 .

.

.

 Twelve

 There’s something scraping against your flesh. 

 Is it a knife?

 Hot pants fan against your skin. 

 Teeth 

 Four

.

.

.

.

Fifty-six

 “Boss, I-.... going a …. bit too far?”

 Smack!

 “Do …. You…. to think?” 

 Two sixty-eight

 A hand strikes you. You think your jaw is broken. It hurts but then again everything hurts. All you can do is take it and whimper. 

 Tears sting against your face.  

  “That’s right. Just like that. Like that, you little whore.” 

 Your body is warm again. 

 You still don’t want to know. 

.

.

.

.

Two

 Two

 Two?

 You’ve counted two before. 

 You blink. 

 The haze of your mind lifts. 

 The coldness of the room seeps in your bones. You’re bare. You take stock of yourself, running your hands over your skin. Everything is still there. 

 Everything and a few other things. You let disgust and shame roll over you. A sob tears its way out of your chest. Your breath picks up. You feel your mind slipping. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, calling your mind back and steadying yourself. 

 You take stock again. This time moving your limbs and jangling your joints.  They were weak but workable. You’re surprised to find yourself unbound aside from the collar around your neck. You suppose Roman’s confident in his drugs. How long have you been here? You press lightly against your neck, feeling the higher than normal pulsing of your artery. You shift yourself waking your legs up. 

 You stiffen, gooseflesh spreading over your skin as light filters into the room through the door. Your eyes snap shut, stinging from the sudden intrusion of light. The pulse beneath your fingers jackrabbits. You think you’ll keel over. 

 “Shhhhhh”

 All the strength in your veins floods out, leaving a feeling of cold horror in its place. You scream or you try.  Your body feels impossibly rigid. Roman stalks towards you, his footfalls slow and deliberate and too loud. Your heart jumps up to your throat with each step. You inch yourself away from him, drawing yourself up to make yourself feel bigger. He coos at how adorable you are, trying to look defiant. The mattress dips under his weight. Your mind begins to slip away from you again. The world falls away from you. You anchor it, digging your nails into your palms. He cups your face, thumb caressing your bottom lip. You glower at him and bite out something witty. He laughs amusement lighting up his features, the sound grates against your ears. 

 “Not gonna fight back?” He taunts, pressing his thumb down on your bottom lip. Your body recoils but then goes slack as he runs his hand up and down your side. Shame blankets you but the fear etched into you keeps you still. 

 Roman loosens his tie. 

 Your mind falls out of your reach. 

 “Such a good little slut.” He murmurs against your lips.

 NO

 You wanted to say. 

 Instead, your mind starts counting again even as you hear the rustle of fabric. 

 .

.

.

. 

 BANG

 A gunshot rings through the thick atmosphere of the room. 

 Roman curses. 

 His men stampede. 

 Another round of shots fire. 

 Something- No, no.  Someone tears Roman off of you. 

 “Deathstroke?” You croak, your voice sounding foreign and absurdly brittle. 

 “Do you know anyone else walking around looking like this, kid?”

 “Ravager” You snark, lips twitching into a smile. He rolls his eyes underneath his mask. The familiarity of the exchange breathes life into your body. Roman’s hand grips your wrist with bruising intensity. Your breath catches. 

 No. No. No.

 The word loops in your head like a constant rat-tat. 

 Slade’s foot makes contact with Roman’s head, the force of it unnecessary but satisfactory. The sounds of bone-cracking fill the air. The man falls uselessly to the grimey floor. He shoots him with a couple of rounds for good measure, each shot instilling a pang of finality in the back of your mind. 

 You scrabble towards Slade, wide-eyed and shallow breathed.  You cling to Slade as he bundles your body in silken sheets.  He hoists you easily into his arms. You bury your face into the junction between his neck and shoulder, closing your eyes, the image of Roman’s bloody body on the floor pressed into your mind. You sob in relief. Your hands clasping onto Slade, white-knuckled and shaking.

  "I've got you, sweetheart," He rumbles, running his hand through your hair soothingly. The tight knots in your body, loosen. You whimper a quiet thank you. “I’ve got you.”

 You lift your head only to see Roman twitch. 

 Your breathing falters. 

 Fear pricks your spine. 

 Your mind falls away from you again. 

 Distantly, you feel Slade’s grip on you tightens. 

 Distantly, you hear him murmur something. 

 Everything is too far away. 

 Your eyes blink sluggishly. The world becomes dimmer with each blink. 

 .

.

.

.

 A warm spray of water drizzles down over your aching skin. Your open wounds sting but the warm water pooling around you soothes the aches of your bruised flesh. Your eyes focus on the soft off-white of the tile on the wall opposite you. You don’t let yourself about the thin, rusty red film swirling in the water. The air in the room is thick with steam and the scent of lavender. 

 The absence of grime on your skin makes you feel lighter and gauzy and immaterial. You felt naked and obscene like you had been taken apart and now someone was examining pieces of you. You almost miss it. 

 “Lean back” Slade grumbles as he lathers your hair with some lavender concoction the hotel provided. Your body follows automatically, eagerly, obediently. You tell yourself you’re just tired. You tell yourself nothing’s wrong with your response. You tell yourself you’re ok. You wince. The warm water around you shifts. You hear it splash against the tile. You flinch at how loud it sounds. You take a deep breath and lean into his touch. He’s handling you delicately as though you would fall apart any second. You might. 

 Blinking away tears, you watch his face, aware that by leaning back, you’d be giving him a good view of the hickies, bite marks, and knife wounds Roman ‘gifted’ you. There’s a slight twitch in the corners of his lips. He must be disgusted with you too. You want to sink into the hot water and let it burn you anew, but you don’t trust yourself not to drown.   

 You close your eyes as another spray of warm water pours over you. You melt into it hoping it’s enough to wash the last few days- weeks?- away. 

.

.

. 

 Your hands grasp his face, pulling him towards you. His hands brace against the tub, keeping him from falling in with you. Your arms loop around his neck, your hot breath fanning against his lips. You press your lips against him, searching and wanting. For what exactly? Comfort? Safety? Stimulation? His lips press lightly against yours, not quite a kiss. Slade actually looks taken aback. 

 The rest of the world floods back in. You peel away, your eyes wide with terror. “Shit- I’m- Fuck! Fuck! Shit, Slade, I- I’m sorry. I- Shit! I didn’t-” Your breathing ratchets up, becoming shallower as the pulsating in your ears grow louder. There’s a tightness growing in your chest that makes you think your ribcage is about to implode. You cover your face with your hands not caring how it didn’t help your shallowing breaths. You can’t look at him. You just can’t. You know you’re disgusting. 

 Your body wants to come apart, dissolve, and if it can, evaporate. You can’t breathe. You curl into yourself, into the water. A hand grabs at your wrist. You flinch. The hand carefully pries your hand away, forcing you to uncurl. Slade’s other hand cups your face gently, guiding you to look him in the eye. The lack of disgust in his face rattles you.

 His thumb brushes against your lips making your stomach twist and your spine curl. He dips his head closer to yours. You kiss him eagerly. He lets out a pleased hum and smiles against your lips. Something cold licks at the bottom of your stomach but it’s overtaken by the need for connection, to fill in what had been hollowed out.   

You press closer to him than strictly necessary as you watch the news, chewing on your cheek.  He pulls you close, shifting you on to his lap. You don’t protest, eyes glued to the TV. 

 “Businessman, Roman Sionis, was found with several gunshot wounds to the stomach in one of his warehouses here in Minos City. He is now in stable condition. Authorities say...”

 Your jaw falls slack in mute horror. Your stomach tumbles to the floor.  You’re hyperventilating. Your teeth are digging into your cheek, you taste copper. Your mind spirals back into the room, back to the dirty mattress, back to Roman. 

 Strong arms wrap around you, stilling your trembling body against a broad chest. Your body relaxes a fraction. You curl into him, the buzz of nervous energy settling into a quieter panic. 

 “You’re safe with me, you know that don’t you, sweetheart?” Slade says tracing circles into your palm. You lean your head into his shoulder. You nod easing against him. “I’ll never let that monster anywhere near you.” He promises, pressing a kiss into your hair. A little sob wrenches free of your imploding chest. 

 Slade keeps his face buried in your hair even as you fall into a lull. It was the only way to hide the triumphant grin spreading across his face. 

 “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n: Thanks for reading. There’s a follow up to this because I can’t cope with bad endings. I had to promise myself a good second part to make the ending horrifying. 

The writing process for this fic was basically:

Me: I have this horrifying idea!

My brain: Yes but what if we put a little dork Jason in it. 

Me: I guess that wouldn’t hurt. 

Me: Ok I have written nearly 2k of dorky Jason where’s the other parts?

Brain: Uh what other parts?

Me: *sighs and spends the next few days spamming @knightfall05x*

taglist: 

@batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

[advocaado]

Fiction does not exist in a vacuum and absolutely can and does affect reality.

HOWEVER

Before you pin on your thought police badge and march off to start attacking people on the internet for the media they consume and create, let’s take a minute to talk about nuance and identify some actual problematic trends in media which have real life consequences.

The big question you need to ask yourself before you decry a person or piece of media is: Is that person/piece of media promoting, validating, and normalizing trends or acts that hurt real people? Or is that person/piece of media exploring a dark theme in fiction/harmlessly indulging in a kink?

Below are some examples of cases where “problematic” content in fiction is a danger to real life people, and many where it isn’t. This will not be an exhaustive list. I don’t have endless amounts of time to sit here and talk about every problem in fictional media, and even if I did, I wouldn’t, because there are many more things I’d rather do with my time.

Disclaimer: No media is 100% problem free. No human is 100% problem free. Engaging with others online to discuss problems in media is totally fine. If you don’t like something, it’s your god given right to bitch about it. Bitch to your heart’s content. Just don’t be an absolute ass cloak about it.

Example 1: Huckleberry Finn

This book famously contains racism. Is this a problem? No, not really. Listen. This book is literally about how racism is bad. The message is to not be a racist piece of shit. That’s the takeaway. If you got any other message from this book you need to work on your reading comprehension. Books that teach lessons are good things and impact society in positive ways. This book does literally the opposite of normalizing, promoting, and validating racism. It’s taught in schools for this exact reason. It’s not sugarcoated and that’s exactly what makes it powerful.

Example 2: Fairy Tail

The famous complaint about this and other works by Hiro Mashima is that the women are overly sexualized. Over sexualization of women is a big problem in media across the globe, but particularly in the media that comes out of Japan. It’s a problem that absolutely does affect real women. More on that later. But is Mashima really the big perpetuater of the kind of gross male reader voyeurism that has such a fierce grip on the anime industry? Actually, no. Not really. Yes, almost all the female characters in Fairy Tail are hot and have big boobs in a way that appeals to men. However, the lens through which Mashima tells his stories is not voyeuristic. He doesn’t go out of his way to draw panty shots or sexualize female characters nonconsensually. 9 times out of 10 the women are sexy because they want to be and do it in a way that is empowering for them. There are occasional exceptions, but by and large Fairy Tail is not the big offender of female objectification in anime. Moreover, almost all its male characters are hot and have six packs and idol hair in a way that appeals to women. Everyone is hot. There is no deeper meaning here. Enjoy this series if you like to watch hot people having fun and going on adventures together.

Example 3: Goblin Slayer

Oh, boy, Goblin Slayer. Now here’s a can of worms. Many upon many have decried GS for its inclusion of rape scenes and mentions. The goblins in GS have no females of their own species so they must impregnate human women to continue their race. This sounds utterly awful and it is. But is this finally our shining example of a dark theme in fiction that is problematic in a way that is dangerous to real people? Sorry, but no. Firstly, the concept of a fantasy creature who needs to use humans to reproduce was not invented by Kumo Kagyu and is in fact common in folklore around the world. He didn’t make it up as a way to condone rape. Could he have? Sure. But that’s not the reality of the series. The assault by goblins on human women is not treated as a good thing by Kagyu. It is shocking and horrific and has big consequences within the narrative for both the goblins and their victims. It isn’t treated lightly and does not serve to normalize, validate, or promote rape in real life. The reader/viewer is meant to be disgusted by the goblins, and these scenes, which are few and brief, serve their intended purpose. Nobody is going out and assaulting women in real life because they thought it was cool when the goblins did it in GS.

Oh, but Goblin Slayer, I’m not done with you just yet. Because while it would be a huge stretch to label the inclusion of rape in the series a danger to real life people, there’s something else that you don’t need to stretch nearly so much to identify as such. Remember when I talked about the voyeuristic male gaze being a concerning trend in anime? Well, GS has that in spades. The normalization of sexually objectifying women in non sexual situations is very much present in the series. Describing in loving detail the chest size/shape of every female character often and with gusto is a big part of the light novels. Kagyu loves to describe what a girl’s boobs are doing while she’s sitting at a table eating or doing any other mundane thing for no reason other than to sexualize her for the reader. He made the intentional decision to make Sword Maiden, a rape victim, very overtly sexual for the male gaze without the character having any agency in it. Sword maiden isn’t trying to be sexy. She doesn’t own her sexuality. Hell, she’s blind. Being sexy doesn’t empower her. She’s just fap fodder for the male reader. These things normalize objectifying women and are part of a longtime trend in anime which have real world consequences for both women and men. The sexualization of nonconsenting women is a huge problem in Japan and very much promoted through their media. Anime and light novels continue to send and perpetuate the message that objectifying women is okay and natural for boys to do, and while Kagyu certainly isn’t the worst offender, he’s happily hopped aboard that trolly because he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. And he can’t, because it’s been SO normalized.

Example 4: The Birth of a Nation.

This movie, while entirely fictional, is straight up anti-black propaganda intentionally made to spread hate and fear of black people. Obviously this is incredibly problematic and harmful to real black people. This movie was designed to be that way. The message is very clear. It’s a movie meant to rally whites against blacks, and it did. Horrifically so. Typically media containing hateful messages is less overt about it today, but abusing stereotypes and caricatures of real groups of people and otherwise intentionally perpetuating harmful ideas through fiction is a shitty thing to do and should be wholeheartedly condemned. (Note the keyword “intentionally”. If an author does this out of ignorance, which is all too common, rather than condemn we should seek to educate. People are capable of learning and growing and canceling them for mistakes made in ignorance is every bit as shitty as the mistake they made in the first place.)

Example 5: Fanfiction and shipping

At last, we come to fan media. This is where “don’t like don’t read” becomes the golden rule. Indulging in a kink or exploring dark themes in fanfiction is harmless 99.9% of the time. Fanfiction simply doesn’t have the reach, and thereby the influence, that mainstream media has. If someone wants to write something really fucked up, that’s their choice and nobody is making you read it. Unless the author is outright condoning harming real people, it’s really not your business what they choose to write about. Furthermore, deciding to read fucked up fanfiction does NOT make you a bad person. As stated before, the human psyche is messy and the world is not squeaky clean or a safe place. People are drawn to dark things and there’s really nothing wrong with that so long as real people aren’t being harmed. If something makes you uncomfortable, don’t engage. Protect yourself. You’re not making the world a better place by harassing people online. You’re just being a jerk and honestly doing far more harm to real ass people than that 20 year old writer on AO3 who wanted to write a story about Sasuke having sex with Naruto’s son because of 10 years of repressed sexual impulses toward Naruto.

I could say more but I’m tired and ready to celebrate my Friday by getting drunk. Feel free to interact if you want, just do everyone a favor and don’t be a dick.

TLDR

Things that make you a bad person:

Murdering people

Sexually assaulting/harassing people

Having sex with children

Creating or indulging in porn of real minors

Harassing and sending death threats to real people over the fictional media they create and consume

Espousing, condoning, or perpetuating hate toward marginalized peoples

Espousing, condoning, or perpetuating hate toward anyone tbh

Using fiction as a vehicle to promote, validate, and normalize causing harm to real people

Generally being an ass cloak

Things that DON’T make you a bad person

Consuming media that contains problematic elements

Creating media that contains problematic elements so long as you aren’t promoting, validating, and normalizing harmful acts toward real people

Writing fanfiction

Reading fanfiction

Shipping whatever you goddamn want to ship

[jalapeno-princess]

Dance For You

(This entire photoshoot wrecked my life and my soul actually left my body how can one human be this fucking sexy it isn’t fair)

Mark Tuan X Stripper Reader

Genre: This one has all the good shit (So much fluff, tiny bits of angst and SMUT SMUT SMUT)

Warning: Rated 18+

Oral (both male and female receiving), edging, choking, face riding, breast play, degradation, doggy style, cowgirl, daddy kink, dominant Mark (one can dream)

Word Count: 11.5K

Summary: Becoming a stripper was the last thing you would have ever saw yourself doing as a job, but because you had so many financial responsibilities, you were willing to do whatever it was to get a large amount of money in a small amount of time. There were many pros that came with being a stripper; not only were you paid excessive amounts of money that you weren’t able to wrap your mind around, but your job is what also led you to meeting the actual love of your life; your devastatingly handsome boyfriend of three years Mark Tuan.

A/N: I wrote this over a year ago (I don’t know what inspired me to write this but the idea of Mark dating a stripper got me all sorts of fucked up and one of my favorite youtubers is a stripper and I just grew curious about what it would be like to have a boyfriend while being an exotic dancer) so this came out. If I’m being honest, I had to tweak this story A LOT; I was actually cringing at how bad my writing used to be I’ve come a long way guys--happy reading!! 

Being a stripper was not an ideal job. They were always frowned upon by most people and ridiculed for selling their bodies in order to make money. But what most people didn’t understand, was that pole dancing and stripping was an art as much as it was sexual entertainment. When you first started stripping, it was to help pay for college, your apartment and your car. You told yourself you would quit stripping once you graduated from college and paid off all of your bills. However, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy the money you would bring home almost every single night you worked. 

The club that you worked at was one of the most popular strip clubs in town. It was always packed to the point where people would have to go on a waiting list or could only get in if they had connections. Most dancers at your club were practically family to you and they made sure you knew that you were the reason everyone would come to that specific club. You were always quick to shut down their compliments because you didn’t think you were all that special. From the time you were a little girl, you’ve always loved to dance. 

Whether it be ballet, jazz or hip hop, you would dance any and everywhere there was music. As you got older, you got so busy with both work and school that you no longer had the time or energy to continue doing what you loved so much. When you graduated from high school, you decided to attend college thousands of miles away from your hometown to your parents dismay. They were very helpful when it came to paying for your college education. However, because it was your decision to move away and be an out of state student, they told you that you needed to help pay for your tuition. 

After months of working boring, low paying jobs, you overheard one of your classmates talking about how much money she gets paid from her job. When you asked her about it, it was then that she admitted to being a stripper and offered to get you an audition with her company in order to get a job there. At first, you were contemplating on doing so. You were raised to be very modest and anyone who sold their bodies to people for money whether it be prostitutes, hookers or strippers were frowned upon by your family. However, the income strippers received is what sold you. 

You didn’t care about the consequences that came with being an exotic dancer—you just wanted life to be easier. When you went for your audition, everyone was blown away by how graceful your movements were and you were immediately hired on the spot. For the first week after being hired, your managers had the other strippers teach you the basics. Even if you were a dancer, dancing in heels and lingerie was not something you were used to. Although you had a fit body from dancing for so many years, you didn’t think you had the breasts nor the butt to be a stripper. 

Seeing your fellow coworkers bodies made you very insecure from time to time, but you were very quick to learn that this was a cutthroat business. There was no room to have a low self esteem. Even if you were close with almost every stripper you worked with, things weren’t like that in the beginning. Strippers were some of the most competitive people there were and you couldn’t blame them. 

They all wanted to be the best in order to attract more customers. Sure, there were times where you would regret becoming a stripper—and the guilt would eat you alive every time your mom called you to ask how college was going. But there were more pros than cons that came with being a stripper. You loved your job; the management was very lenient with your schedule, you made more money in one night than you did in two weeks at any of your previous jobs and because it was stripping that introduced you to the actual love of your life—your boyfriend of three years, Mark Tuan. 

On the night you and Mark first met, he had just turned 21 years old. You were 19 at the time and you had already been dancing for a couple of months. For his birthday, his friends decided to take him to a strip club; telling him that he needed to experience such wild and fun things while he was still young. Mark wasn’t the type to go out to clubs, parties and bars. All he really cared about was school and video games; until he met you and that’s when everything changed. You were getting ready to perform when you were requested for a one on one session. It wasn’t uncommon. Men would request for a one on one performance with strippers all the time, but you had yet to do so yourself. 

You’d hear stories all the time from your coworkers about how scary it could be, even if it paid more. The club charged more for one on one performances only because they could be making more when the dancer performs for a crowd rather than just one person. You told your management that you didn’t feel comfortable performing for someone alone because of the countless horror stories you heard about men getting physical and even trying to rape the dancers. However, after the few incidents, the management made sure that whoever entered the club had a quick background check before they were able to enter.

“Y/n, your customer is waiting for you in room 7. Go easy on him. He’s really cute. Oh, and wear that cute red suit you bought the other day. Trust me.” 

You did as you were told and put on the very tiny, leaving no room to the imagination lingerie set while slipping on your Louboutins. After a taking in a few deep breaths and whispering words of encouragement to yourself just like you did almost every night, you made your way outside to his room. When you walked out on that stage and your eyes landed on your customer, you felt your heart rate increased. Your manager wasn’t lying when she said that he was cute. In fact, that was an understatement. He was gorgeous. Extremely handsome. Probably the most attractive man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

For a second, you felt flustered and you were worried you were going to mess up because you were obviously very much attracted to the man sitting just a few feet away from you. But once you took a quick look at yourself in the side mirror, you marched down that stage like you owned it. Seeing him gulp as you made your way towards him only increased your confidence and soon, you found yourself sitting on his lap. 

“Hi there. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem like the type to come to a place like this.” He nodded his head while you ran your hands up and down his chest. 

“I don’t. It’s my birthday and my friends forced me to come. But if I’m being honest with you, I’m very glad I came. You’re extremely beautiful.” 

You giggled at his words and you were very grateful for the fact that the club was dark or else he would see you blush. Nobody who came in here has ever called you beautiful before. It was always either derogatory terms; “sexy” or “hot”. Hearing him call you beautiful, only made you want to hear him say it to you again and again. 

“Thank you. Oh, and happy birthday. What’s your name?” He smiled politely at you while hesitantly bringing his hands to your hips. 

“I’m Mark.” You placed a soft kiss on his cheek before standing up and seductively making your way to the pole. 

“I’m y/n. Let me dance for you birthday boy.” 

His eyes never left you and your body the entire time. Even if it was dark, the very prominent and large bulge in Mark’s pants didn’t go unnoticed to you—it made you feel even more confident and sexy. Slowly, you walked over to him and found your way back on to his lap. You dragged your thumb against his bottom lip all the while slowly grinding yourself on top of him. Hearing his moans and seeing him bite his lip only made you go faster. 

“Fuck—you’re so—fucking sexy—please—don’t stop—“ 

The other dancers would always tell you about how they would do more than just give somebody a lap dance during these one on one sessions. A lot of them slept with their customers willingly in order to make more money. You were never one to want to do that—you were here to dance, not to have sex with people. However, with the way Mark was looking at you with so much lust in his big, brown eyes and holding you all but gently, you wanted nothing more than to please him in anyway possible. You brought your hand down to his very thick and long cock; stroking him through his pants, earning yourself multiple moans and whines from his pretty lips. 

“Can I give you a birthday gift? Would that be okay?” He quickly nodded in agreement and before you could even process the entire situation, you found yourself getting on your knees. Once you unzipped his zipper, his sigh of relief when you pulled him out of his pants sent warmth to your already soaking clit. 

“Fuck—I—holy shit—just like that baby. Oh god—mmmmm—so—so so good—“ 

Only seconds after relieving him from the constraints of his boxers, you dragged your tongue along his slit while circling his tip. His breathy whimpers and wanton moans only motivated you to go faster; you brought him completely in to your mouth and bobbed your head up and down his length, taking him down your throat as much as you possibly could all the while fondling his balls. He pulled your hair in to a makeshift ponytail and continued to thrust himself deep down in to your throat. 

“So warm and so tight. Fuck. You’re so beautiful. So fucking pretty. Look at you, taking this cock. Do you think I could fuck your face princess?” 

You nodded earning yourself a raspy groan. He started roughly pushing your head on to his dick but you were too busy trying to pleasure him to even think about the pain. His cock grazed the back of your throat in the most delicious way. You tried your best to go as rough and as hard as you possibly could; licking and sucking on him while pinching on his ass cheeks. Your eyes began to fill up with tears, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop—mainly because it was adamant that he was enjoying feeling your mouth wrapped around his cock. 

But you were genuinely having a good time yourself. Watching his eyes roll to the back of his head as he bit down on his bottom lip sent chills down your spine. He was so damn hot. After a few moments, you felt his white, creamy liquid fill your mouth and you swallowed it entirely. Seeing him throw his head back and the fact that he came in less than 5 minutes sent fire through your bones; it was an indescribable feeling. 

You weren’t one who really cared about giving head; most of the guys you’ve been with never cared whether or not you were comfortable and it unfortunately ruined your entire outlook on sex—but something about this boy made you want to perform oral on him every single day. He pulled you up off of the ground, back on to his lap and roughly connected his lips to yours. 

“Holy shit. You’re not real. You can’t be. Where did you come from? I can’t even describe how amazing that was. Shit wait, are we allowed to do this? Am I going to get in trouble for letting you blow me? Nobody can know I’m here right now my parents would probably have a fit-“ he sounded so cute getting flustered over the thought that he might get in trouble for having fun with you. You shook your head in attempts to keep his mind at ease and began leaving soft kisses along his jaw. 

“You’re totally fine. Don’t worry about it.” The vibration coming from his phone broke the two of you out of your little world and he hid his face in your chest after reading the messages from his friends. 

“They’re looking for me. Apparently we’ve been here for three hours. It doesn’t even feel like it’s been that long. They’re not kidding when they say time flies when you’re having fun. That was the best birthday present ever. I’m really glad I came. Literally. But I should get going. I um—can I—your number—“ 

As devastatingly handsome as Mark was and no matter how much you wanted to see him again, strippers didn’t get in to relationships nor did they have any sort of human interaction other than with the customers. You didn’t want to burden Mark with the fact that you were a stripper; you didn’t want him feeling embarrassed if he ever had to introduce you to people. After placing a long kiss on his lips and running your fingers throughout locks, you started making your way towards the curtains. 

“Come back again soon and we’ll see about that.” 

Mark stayed in your mind for the rest of that night. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—how gentle yet rough he was. How he held you as if you were such a fragile piece of glass. How he looked at you so softly, with so much adoration in his eyes. How thick and big his cock was and how you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of you. But you couldn’t do that to him. You wanted to be selfish and give in to temptation by calling him and seeing where it goes between the two of you, but you didn’t want to end up hurt. You’ve heard one too many stories from your coworkers about how they’d get their hearts broken because the boys they were interested in weren’t accepting of their choice in occupation.

Just a few days after that erotic night together, fate brought you two together again; but not in the way you had hoped. You were late to class one morning because you overslept seeing as how you got home from work at almost 4 in the morning. You were so focused on your notes that you failed to see someone walking towards you until you collided with a body. 

“Oh my God I am so sorry I really should be looking where I am walking—Mark?” Your eyes widened in shock at the sight of him and the grin that rose on his face filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“Hey princess. I’ve missed you. I’ve been planning on going back to the club just to see you again but I haven’t had the time-“ You brought your hand up to cover his mouth and made sure no one was around to hear about what you did to make your income. 

“Please don’t say anything about that. Nobody here knows that I’m a stripper and I’d like to keep it that way. Now if you’ll excuse me.” You began walking away in the direction of your building when you were quickly pulled in to his chest. 

“Mark I’m late for class as it is please let me go.” He released a long, frustrating sigh and you were genuinely very embarrassed with how harsh you were acting towards him. Especially because he didn’t do anything to deserve such hostility. 

“Your number. Can I please have it? I regret not trying harder to ask you for it. I’m sorry if I’m coming off rude or creepy, but I would really like to take you on a date if you’d let me. If I’m bothering you, just say the word and I’ll never speak to you again. I just hope you know I can’t get you off my mind. And before you start assuming, no. It’s not because—well—yes—you gave me the best head of my life but there’s something about you that intrigues me; something about you captivates me. There’s something mysterious about you and I can’t stop trying to think about what it is. The way you move and make that dance floor yours. The way you touched me and ran your fingers through my hair awakened something animalistic in me and I knew that wasn’t going to be the last time I saw you. The way you have so much confidence allures me and I can’t stop touching my lips because of how much I miss the feeling of yours against them. It probably meant nothing to you, but it meant a lot to me. I promise I’m not some weirdo, I have pure intentions please believe me.” 

You gave him a small smile and then motioned for him to give you his phone so that you could enter your information. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t hung up on him. This is what you wanted. You were secretly hoping he’d come back to the club with the thought of continuing where you both left off from last time, but you knew why you were hesitant on taking things further between the two. 

“Are you free tonight?” You sadly shook your head—you wish you were; you wanted to see what he had in mind for the two of you. 

“I work from 9-3. But I’m off tomorrow. So I’m all yours.” 

He grinned in excitement at your words and the two of you soon said your goodbyes. Before you let him completely walk away, something inside of you—maybe the confidence he had mentioned earlier made you grab at his wrist and pull him in for a chaste kiss. 

“See you soon.” 

You went to work that night with the biggest grin on your face and couldn’t wait to see where things would go between the two of you. You and Mark started texting back and forth as you were preparing for work and during your break. He told you he had the entire date planned and to say you were excited was an understatement. When you first got in to stripping, you pushed away the idea of a relationship to the back of your mind because you knew most guys wouldn’t be quite happy with the fact that their girlfriend is a stripper. But Mark didn’t seem to care and although you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up, you couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be someone special in your life. 

If he didn’t want to be with you because of your occupation, he would have said so much earlier. The next day, the only information he gave you was that he wanted you to be ready by eleven and that he was taking you somewhere fun. You decided to wear a cute sundress and lightly curled your hair. You applied a small amount makeup in attempts of concealing the dark circles that developed under your eyes in the last week and decided to watch some tv while waiting for him. Mark texted you that he was on his way and you found yourself heating up at the mere thought of him. 

It’s been quite some time since you were involved with another guy, let alone one that you were genuinely interested in. You were hoping that things would work well between you and Mark because he seemed like a genuinely nice person who fit the standards you were searching for in a significant other. When your doorbell rang, you tried your best to stay calm and pretend he didn’t have such an effect on you. 

Truth was, you never felt this way about anyone before. You had yet to experience a real relationship and it wasn’t like you had feelings for your any of your customers or fellow classmates. Even if you hardly knew him, you found yourself wanting to learn more about him and you could only hope for things to go well for the both of you. Once you opened the door and your eyes landed on him, your heart rate increased. He had to be some sort of Greek God in his past life. There was no way someone could be this handsome. 

“Hey. You look very beautiful. Not that I’m surprised. Ready to go?” You nodded as he reached for your hand and led you to his car, but not before connecting your lips together. 

“Mmm, I think I’m addicted to these pretty pink lips of yours. I’m addicted to every little thing about you.” 

Heat rose to your cheeks once again and he chuckled at the sight. This boy was honestly going to be the death of you. He was quick to intertwine your hands together and led you to his car—like the gentleman he was, he opened your door for you and helped you get settled in to your seat, stealing a quick kiss from the corner of his mouth. 

Once he made his way to his side, he turned on the radio and absentmindedly placed his hand on your lap. The car ride was quiet in the beginning, both of you having so many things on your minds but neither of you had any idea what to say. Although you enjoyed the piece and quiet, there was so many things you wanted to learn about him—however, you didn’t want to be the first one to start the conversation. After a while, he finally spoke up. 

“What are you majoring in?” From that question on, the two of you were complete chatterboxes and the conversation continued until he reached the destination. Your smile rose tenfold when you realized where he brought you. 

“I hope you’re fine with the beach? I just love it here and I thought the weather was nice. If not, we can go somewhere else. I’m fine with whatever you want to do.” You shook your head and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“I love the beach. I actually haven’t been to one since moving here for college.” 

He beamed up at you and gently squeezed your thigh. When you got out of the car, you quickly noticed the basket in Mark’s hands and smiled even wider than you already were, if it was even possible. 

“I packed us a picnic basket. I wasn’t too sure on what to get because I have yet to learn what you like, but I hope this is all okay.” 

Seeing him get all shy, completely different from just a few nights ago when he was shoving himself down your throat made butterflies swarm in your tummy. He reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers while leading you to a secluded area. He placed the blanket down and motioned for you to sit down. Before you could take a seat next to him, you were being pulled on to his lap. You were about to object until he placed his lips against yours in order to silence you. 

He ended up feeding you and the thought of him wanting to take care of you made your head spin. The two of you continued to talk about pretty much anything and everything your hearts desired and in the few hours you got to spend with him, you learned a lot about the shy and extremely kind hearted boy. For starters, he was a huge fan of the Los Angeles Lakers, yet he had not once stepped foot on a basketball court before. He also wanted to go in to architecture; he had a passion for drawing and he also loved anything that had to do with buildings and construction, but his mom talked him out of it in fear of something happening to him while he was at a construction site. 

His favorite food was Hawaiian pizza—a fact that you were quick to tease him about, but he was quick to defend himself and it made you fall even harder for him. Once the two of you were done at the beach, he took you to an arcade: somewhere you learned he spent most of his time at. Seeing him get all excited over playing race car games and skeeball brought warmth to your cheeks. You were quickly growing fond of Mark and you knew in that moment you were screwed. 

As soon as you both realized it was getting late, you made your way back to his car and he started heading back to your place. A part of you didn’t want to leave him just yet—his presence alone made you feel safe;comfortable. Even if you haven’t known him for too long, you loved the way he made you feel and you knew you could get used to having him around; that’s why you didn’t find it surprising when you invited him in for some coffee. Although, the both of you knew coffee was not going to be involved in the plans for the rest of the night. Mark wanted to be a gentleman and take things slow with you, but he knew he couldn’t—you had such an effect on him that he knew he would do anything you’d ask him to and the thought excited him more than it scared him. 

The two of you found yourselves tumbling in to bed together. It wasn’t a surprise, you knew sooner or later you had to have him. If he didn’t have to go so soon just a few nights ago, you were sure you would’ve let him take you against the stage or hell, even up against the pole. With the way he was leaving rough kisses all along your body, you knew he was quickly losing his sanity too. After bringing you to heaven twice with his head between your thighs in less than half  an hour, the two of you relished in your newfound relationship. 

He took you in your bed, against your kitchen counter, on your couch and finally in the shower. He couldn’t get enough of you and it was evident that you felt the same way about him. After finishing up in the shower, he helped you prepare for bed and even gave you his shirt to wear as he slept in only his underwear. He held you tightly to his body and whispered sweet nothings in to your ear before finally asleep. It had to be one of the best nights you had since moving to California. 

From that day on, the two of you were inseparable—like magnets. Wherever you’d go, he would follow and vice versa. The two of you could never go without one another. You found yourself falling in love with him in just a few months of dating and although the two of you weren’t together for too long; you were sure he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Mark wasn’t a jealous boyfriend—he knew you were his and his alone. At first, he was kind of insecure with dating you, especially because he was well aware that you’d continue being a stripper even if you were now in a relationship. 

It wasn’t that he asked you to quit; nor did he try to make you feel bad for continuing your profession. He was proud of you for working a full time job and attending school at the same time and your boyfriend knew you were your own person before you were his—plus he trusted you. Mark knew you loved him just as much as he loved you. It wasn’t you he was worried about, it was the men who would come to the club. Knowing that you were one of the main dancers only worried your boyfriend because he was afraid that people would try and take advantage of you when he wasn’t around to protect you. 

He’s been to the club countless times since the two of you started dating, and it took every bone in his body not to fight anyone who tried to lay their hands on you. You would reassure him that you were fine, and that he was the only one you would have one on one sessions with. You made sure to tell your manager you were in a relationship and did not feel comfortable performing for someone alone knowing your boyfriend was at home, waiting for you to finish work. 

One thing Mark did that made your heart flutter, no matter how many times you told him you were fine, was that he would pick you up every single night that you worked—no matter what time it was. He never failed to come get you and always told you it was because he wanted to make sure you got home safely. Just a few months after the two of you started dating, he had asked you to move in with him. 

At first, he was afraid of rushing things—he was afraid that he would scare you away if you weren’t ready to take that further step in your relationship, but he craved your presence and loved being around you. Plus, it was easier for him to pick you up and drop you off to both work and school. He accommodated you in any way you needed. Before you could bring over your things, you noticed he had purchased a lot of the things you needed including your shampoo and conditioner, a jewelry box to put all your jewelry in, some face masks and other skin care products and he even bought you a vanity for your makeup. 

Dating Mark was a dream. He was everything you could ask for in a boyfriend and more. He was patient, extremely funny, generous, always put your feelings first and had one of the kindest hearts. You only fell for him more and more each and every day. He scheduled his classes so that he could take you to school and finish around the same time you did; and not that it was the main focus of your relationship, but since you started dating Mark, the both of you had a sexual awakening. 

What he didn’t know, was that although you were a stripper, you’ve only had one sexual experience before him and you regret not making him your first. He took such amazing care of you when it came to sex and always put your needs before his own; he made sure you came before he did, only moved when you told him it was okay and tried out any position you wanted to. He would do anything you asked him to and made it known to you just how much he loved you both physically and verbally. 

Unfortunately, the two of you had your first fight just hours ago. Neither of you remembered how it started, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how it ended. Some mean words were thrown about and you both said things you knew neither of you meant, but it was too late and the damage was done. You took your things for work and decided to find your own way to get there. You knew your boyfriend was upset when he didn’t come after you. 

As soon as you walked out the door, tears came streaming down your face and you were about to call in sick for work, but you refused to let this argument get the best of you. Once you arrived to the club, you threw your earphones on and started to get ready. Your phone began to vibrate so you ultimately turned it off; it didn’t take a genius to know who was contacting you. 

Other than your parents, your boyfriend was the only person you ever really called and texted. You released a long, frustrated sigh and continued to apply your make up. When you were done with both your hair and makeup, you put on your outfit and prepared yourself to make your way outside. You were not in the mood for any sort of human interaction, but there was nothing you could do. it was going to be hard, but you had to separate your work life from your personal life and right now, you had to put on a fake smile to prevent anyone from realizing that something was bothering you. 

When you made your way in to the club, there were at least fifty men already crowding the stage. You tried your best to push all thoughts of your boyfriend to the back of your mind and started strutting your stuff down to the pole. Right as the music turned on, you swayed your hips to the rhythm and made sure that all the guys were dropping their jaws at the sight of you. Hearing the crowd roar at your raunchy movements and seeing all the money being thrown on stage only gave you more confidence to put more effort in to your dancing and soon the entire argument was forgotten in that moment. 

To your dismay, only two hours in to your shift, some men had a little too much to drink—meaning a few people were beginning to jump on stage and your anxiety was starting to build up. You could feel your chest fill up with worry and it was getting hard for you to breathe. The only thing you could really do was move back in attempts to get as far away as possible from the drunken customers. 

Before you could process the entire situation, you saw fists being thrown and when you realized one of the men involved was Mark, your heart both sank and fluttered at the sight. Your boyfriend wasn’t the most built guy out there, but you knew he could take on most of the guys in that club because of how drunk they all were. However, one guy grew angry with the way Mark was being aggressive towards him and started to fight back; seeing him sock your boyfriend in the face worried you. 

You quickly ran over to the two of them and started punching and slapping the guy in attempts to get him to release his hold on your boyfriend. This was not the way you would have expected the night to go. It felt like you were begging for help for the longest time—yet no one seemed to be coming to your rescue. Finally, after what felt like hours even if it was only a couple of minutes, the security guards pulled Mark away from the now bloody man and threatened to call the cops on him even if he was clearly trying to save you from being harassed. 

“He’s with me. It’s fine. I’ll take care of him.” 

You got off the stage and brought your boyfriend to the back, earning yourself a couple of boos from the crowd, but you didn’t care. Mark was all that mattered in that moment. Once you reached your dressing room, you sat him down on the couch and searched for a first aid kit. When you finally found one, you quickly walked over to where Mark was sitting and immediately started applying medicine to his cuts. 

“Stay here, I’ll go get ice.” Before you could walk away, he was pulling you on to his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“It’s fine babe. I’ve been through worse. I’m just glad you’re okay.” You frowned at him while gently grazing his cheek. Tears started forming at your eyelids and he was quick to kiss them away once he saw them. 

“Why are you here? And why would you put yourself through danger? The security guards would’ve handled it Mark. Now you’re all beat up and if those guys remember what happened in the morning they can press charges.” He shrugged indifferently while running his hands through your hair. It was obvious he was not worried one bit of the entire situation. 

“Let them. I honestly don’t give a fuck. It was worth it. Nobody messes with my girl. I’m sorry baby. I couldn’t help myself. Seeing them trying to reach out at you already got my blood boiling. But once I saw them jumping on stage, I had to get involved. I know how you can get anxiety sometimes and I didn’t want you having an attack. And I’m sorry for earlier. I was planning on talking to you on your break and I was going to wait till you were done to take you home. I don’t care if we fight, I’m not gonna let you go home on your own. I’m so fucking sorry y/n. You know I didn’t mean anything I said right? I was just mad, but that was no excuse. I’m not ashamed that my girlfriend is a stripper; if anything, I find it so fucking sexy. Nor would I force you to quit knowing how much you love it here. I hate fighting with you. I shouldn’t have let you leave while you were upset but my pride got in the way. I’m so fucking in love with you it’s not even funny. I couldn’t stop thinking about the pain on your face as you walked out the door. Please forgive me y/n. I don’t think I can handle you being mad at me. Scream at me, punch me, hit me, call me names even. But please, don’t be mad at me anymore.” 

Your heart broke when you heard his voice crack and you found yourself connecting your lips together. Mark was a very sensitive person; he would cry at the smallest of things and although his friends would tease him about being too much of a softie, it was a characteristic of his that you were extremely fond of. He was hesitant at first—he was still upset with himself for making you cry in the first place; but when he felt you relax in to him, he wrapped his arms around your waist. You cupped his cheek and depend the kiss; swirling your young all but gently around his, earning yourself a couple of deep grunts. All too soon, Mark pulled away to catch his breath and hid his face in the crook of your neck. 

“I’m not mad at you baby. I’ll admit, I was a little hurt by what you said. But I said some things I didn’t mean either so I’m just as in the wrong as you are. I’m sorry by the way. Everything that I said was in the heat of the moment. You’re not a bad boyfriend. You’re the best boyfriend a girl could ever ask for, you know that right? I’m very thankful to call you mine. Just the mere thought of you brings a smile to my face and when I’m not with you, I feel empty. That’s why I couldn’t stop crying when I left. I really don’t like fighting with you. I love you Mark.”

He placed multiple kisses along your face and quickly wiped away your tears. His fingers were featherlight against your face; he smiled at you while tracing your features with his index finger. Honestly, it didn’t matter that the two of you were sitting in the dressing room of a strip club; it honestly did not matter where you were, you wanted to spend as much time in the moment that time would allow you to. 

After a few moments, you heard a knock on the door and freaked out when you saw your manager. You were afraid of getting in trouble for what happened but released a sigh of relief when she told you to go home early. You quickly packed your things and walked over to help your boyfriend up. 

“Let’s go.” 

He intertwined your hands together and the two of you walked over to his car. Once he helped you get settled in and got himself buckled, you both drove home. For the first couple of minutes, everything was quiet, other than the playlist he had put on. However, about ten minutes in to the drive, his hand absentmindedly found your thigh. 

It’s not like you weren’t used to him touching you like that. On most drives, he would either hold your hand or place his on your lap—however, he began slowly tracing patterns against your skin causing goosebumps to rise. He brought his fingers closer to where you needed him the most; the coil in your stomach was twisting to the point where you had to cross your legs in attempts to form any kind of friction in between them. 

To your dismay yet his delight, your boyfriend ultimately pulled away before he could do anything to help soothe the fire that was overtaking your entire body. You saw him laughing to himself and mentally cursed him before grunting in irritation. 

“You’re gonna get it Tuan I swear to God.” He looked at you as if he had no idea what you were talking about and simply shrugged. 

“Just you wait baby. You’re going to regret teasing me.” He bit his lip seductively while finally pulling in to the parking lot. 

“I don’t know what it is, but I can’t wait.” Once he parked his car, you made a bee line to your apartment and didn’t even care whether or not he was following right behind you. You brought a chair from the kitchen in to your bedroom and took off your clothes, leaving you in the extremely tiny outfit you were wearing earlier. 

You knew it was Mark’s favorite and seeing you wear it tonight is what probably riled him up and got him to fight with other people. When you heard the door close, you sat there and waited patiently for your boyfriend to enter. When he did, his jaw dropped at the sight of you and his gulp did not go unnoticed—in fact, it only turned you on some more. 

“Holy fuck. Y/n—“ He reached out for you but you quickly backed away—earning yourself a breathy and extremely sexy whine. 

“I’m going to give you a lap dance. However, I have rules. My body is off limits. Absolutely no touching. The minute I feel you touching me, I’m going to make it stop. If I feel your hands on my body even just once, it’s over with.” 

Your boyfriend quickly nodded in agreement, willing to take whatever he could get at thus point and motioned for you to start. You turned on your speakers and soon your room was being filled with The Weeknd. Slowly, you sauntered over to your boyfriend, bringing your hands up to his face and caressing his cheek all the while grinding in to him. Seeing him bite his lip to the point where you knew there was a chance it would start bleeding, trying his best not to make a noise nor touch you made you laugh quietly to yourself. 

You brought your hands in to his hair and gently pulled on it, earning yourself an exhausted groan from your boyfriend. Leaving chaste kisses along his jaw and neck made Mark shiver and you could tell he was about to lose all his sanity pretty soon. You turned around, giving him a view of your round and plump ass—you purposely dropped one of your bracelets on to the floor so you had an excuse to bend down. 

Hearing him take in a breath from how much of an effect you were having on him only made you want to take your time; you wanted to break him. When you felt his hard on against your ass, heat went straight to your core. Slowly, but very roughly, you grinded yourself against his thigh and smirked when you saw him squeezing both sides of the chair in order to prevent himself from touching you. 

“Mmm, someone’s excited.” 

He glared at you and the growl that came from the back of his throat did not go unnoticed—you could feel yourself growing wetter and hornier by the minute. The sex was going to be mind-blowing; you just knew it. 

“I’ve been hard since I walked in to the club and saw you wearing this. Fuck baby. You don’t know what you do to me. Y/n. Please. Enough. I’m dying here. You’re actually lethal, do you know that? I’ve been a good boy long enough baby let me fuck your brains out, I’m begging you.” 

You bit your lip at the sound of his dirty words. Mark was a very soft spoken and gentle guy. Around his friends and anyone he was close with, he could talk up a storm. It always made you smile seeing him comfortable enough to talk with people without getting nervous or stumbling on his words. However, when it came to sex between the two of you, he was very dirty and rough—just how you liked it. 

His naughty words and raspy voice never failed to send shivers down your spine. You decided that your boyfriend had enough of your teasing and with the way he protected you tonight from all those drunk and rude assholes, he deserved a little treat. When he saw you get on your knees, he let out a content sigh. Although you were seconds away from fulfilling his carnal urges, you were extremely excited to finally have his dick down your throat. 

Giving Mark head was just as fun for you as it was for him. Slowly, you unzipped his pants and released him from his underwear; the sight of his hard and throbbing cock sent warmth to your core. First, you kitten licked his tip and ran your tongue all along his cock—licking back and forth, dragging your teeth along his veins before ultimately bringing him in to your mouth. The noises; his grunts, moans and cries of pleasure that were rapidly falling from his mouth only drove you crazier. You were bobbing your head at an exceedingly rapid pace; trying to bring him as far down your throat as you could without gagging all the while looking up at him with your soft, doe eyes. 

“Ba—baby—fuck—just—just like that. Ah fuck. You’re so good to me. You were made to suck my cock. Faster baby please. Your tongue—I can’t even—fuck.” 

Your hands found purchase on his hips as you forced him deeper in to your mouth. No matter how much it hurt and how tears were forming at your eyelids, you loved being about to pleasure your boyfriend and you knew he loved it when you blew him. He ran his fingers through your hair and bit his lip in attempts to prevent himself from moaning loudly. Whatever you couldn’t fit in to your mouth, you pumped with your hand. 

Every now and then, you brought his balls in to your mouth; sucking and grazing your teeth against both testicles. It was obvious with the way he would throw his head back that his balls were even more sensitive than his actual cock and you used that you your advantage. 

“Baby—I’m gonna come—fuck y/n—you always get me to come so fast you’re so fucking sexy baby. Just like that—ah fuck.” Once he came in to your mouth, you were quick to swallow it entirely; milking him of everything he had and before you could process what was going on, your mouth was yanked from off of his tip and you were being pulled in to his embrace. 

“You’re not real. I know I’ve said this many times but I have a hard time believing you’re real and that I’m the lucky man who was blessed with you as my girlfriend. You’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world baby. Fuck. Your mouth does wonders. You’re an ethereal being and I’ll do anything you ask me to. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I’m yours. Do whatever you want with me baby.” You turned around to face him and connected your lips together while bringing one of his hands to your core. 

“Fuck y/n, you’re soaking. You’re honestly going to be the death of me you know that right? You’re so fucking sexy. My beautiful baby girl.” He took you off guard by shoving two fingers in to your heat. As soon as he started pumping, you hid your face in to the crook of his neck and tried your best to silence your moans. However, your boyfriend quickly but gently pulled you away and lifted your chin so that you were making eye contact with him. 

“Don’t hide those beautiful sounds princess. Daddy deserves to hear how good he’s pleasuring you. All those men tonight can only dream of seeing you like this. Don’t get me wrong y/n, it’s so hot when you dominate me. But we all know at the end of the day, whose the real boss when it comes down to it huh? You thought you could tease me with this extremely sexy little dance while wearing my favorite lingerie of yours? You’re gonna get it I swear to God. I’m going to make sure everyone in this apartment structure knows how good I’m making you feel tonight.” 

He quickened the pace and watching his facial expressions while he was pumping his fingers inside of you sent you closer to your release. His fingers were warm and the callousness of his digits only did wonders against your pussy. It didn’t take long for him to find your g-spot; during many of your love making sessions, Mark made it a habit to learn a knew thing about you. Your likes, dislikes, preferences, positions you wanted to experiment in, where your clit and g-spot were located; he just really wanted to please you and loved knowing that he was the only one who had that kind of effect on you. 

“Mmm, we’ve already had multiple complaints Mark—maybe we should—FUCK.” He brought his fingers against your clit and flicked it; pinching your nub causing you to moan louder than expected. 

“That’s exactly what we’re going to be doing. All night baby. Get ready to call in sick because when I’m done with you, there won’t be any feeling in your legs.” 

He knew exactly how sensitive you were and always took advantage of the situation. You continued to grind yourself against his fingers in hopes of finally reaching your orgasm—but all too soon, he pulled away. When you whined at the loss, he simply giggled. 

“Mark what the fuck? I was so close!” He definitely was not going easy on you tonight. Your boyfriend was going to make it known that he owned you—that he was the only one who could bring you sheer ecstasy just by his fingers. He loved tormenting you when it came to the bedroom and after that fight earlier, he was excited for the kinky, hot sex he had planned for the two of you. He motioned for you to get off of him and brought you over to the bed. 

“You’re going to sit on my face with that pretty little pussy of yours and I’m going to eat you out until you’re numb. Got it?” You nodded in agreement; excited for what was going to happen in just a couple of seconds. As he lied down, he pulled you with him, having you hover over his face. 

“Sit.” 

Both you and your boyfriend weren’t strangers to face riding, but you were always afraid of crushing him. However, Mark was always vocal about how hot he thought it was eating you out while you were sitting on his face. He always tells you that his face is your throne and wants nothing more than for you to sit on it when you both have the time. His hands found their place on your ass and he grinded you against his tongue. As much as you loved giving head, you really enjoyed receiving it—especially because Mark was a professional at eating you out. He knew exactly what to do to make you scream, cry and beg him to hurry up and bring you to your orgasm. When you felt his fingers graze your clit, you know you were done for. 

“M—Mark—Mark—baby please.” 

Your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling and tugging on it as he continued eating you out like a man starved. His wet muscle felt amazing against your folds; his pace was relentless. He continuously licked stripes against your entrance; biting gently and sibling on your overly sensitive nub. Hearing him moan and hum against your cunt made you want to scream. When he pulled away, you let out a loud whine and you were embarrassed seeing as how needy you must’ve looked but you didn’t care. This was the second time he edged you tonight and you were sure it wasn’t going to be the last. 

“That’s not what you call me when I’m fucking you my pretty slut. If you want me to continue, you know what to say.” 

Hearing him call you such a derogatory name only brought you closer to your end. There were a few times where Mark would degrade you during sex—but it always turned you on. He brought his tongue back up to your entrance and continued his ministrations. 

“Da—daddy—fuck—so so good. You’re always so good to me—just like that daddy please—please let me come—” 

When you felt him nibble on your clit, the coil in your stomach released and you came all over his tongue. Your boyfriend lapped up all your juices, making sure to slurp up every last drop and hummed against your pussy. Feeling him sigh and him against your soaking core only made you wetter at the touch—as much as you were enjoying the way he gripped on your ass and smashed his face against your pussy, you needed more. When he felt you get off of him, he was confused and a little bit worried. 

“Baby I wasn’t done. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Do you want me to slow down? Y/n I’m so sorry—“ 

You connected your lips with his and wrapped your arms around his neck before you began to leave soft kisses along his jaw. Although he could be rough and dominant when it came to sex with you, he always made sure you were having a good time. He hated the thought of hurting you in any way. 

“I’m fine babe. That was amazing as always. You’re always so good to me. And I love how dirty and kinky you get during sex. You become this animal—it’s so fucking hot and I just—need you inside me. Right now.” He nibbled on your ear and licked a trail down your neck. Your words made him hard again; honestly anything you did never failed to make your boyfriend hard as a rock. 

“Fuck y/n. I’ll do anything you ask me to. As much as I love eating you out and as much as I love how you taste, I want to fuck the living shit out of you. Fuck baby you taste so good I could eat you out for hours. But feeling how tight and wet your cunt is, I want to be buried inside it.” He yanked off his pants and threw them against the wall all the while bringing his hands up to your round mounds and squeezed the both of them. 

“These. These right here are my favorite body parts of yours. Well, other than your extremely pretty face—and thick thighs. Don’t even get me started on your ass babe. Everything about you is simply perfect, I can’t get over it. But your tits—fuck. So big and so pretty. I could spend an eternity sucking on these things.” 

He licked and nibbled on one of your nipples while squeezing the other breast with his free hand. He did this in attempts to distract you from when he finally enters you. Although the two of you had sex almost every single day, you would never get used to the stretch every time Mark would enter you. It always felt so good, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. 

Your boyfriend was thick and long—you had a hard time believing someone could be that perfect. Even if you considered penises to be very ugly, something about Mark’s was addicting—it never failed to make your mouth water and you loved the feeling of it buried deep inside of your pussy, between your breasts and in your mouth. 

“Let me know if it hurts okay? And tell me when I can move my love.” He reconnected your lips together, melding his lips perfectly with you and finally entered you, eliciting breathless moans from the both of you. You gently tapped his shoulder, letting him know that it was okay for him to move. 

“You know, for someone who claims he’s going to make me immobile for the next week, you sure are very soft for me.” He chuckled and let out a content sigh. 

“I’d beg to differ. I’m hard as a fucking rock for you.” You playfully slapped his shoulder as he hid his face in your neck. 

“I just don’t wanna hurt you. I’m very protective over you y/n. Even from myself. You’re so delicate in my eyes. I’d do anything to keep you safe and make you happy.” You didn’t even realize a tear fell from your face until you felt his fingers gently brush them away. 

“You asshole. Professing your love to me is not the reason why I should be crying during sex. But I love you too. And I’m in love with you. Madly in love with—mmmm.” 

Hearing those words fall from your pretty lips only made Mark crave you in a way that he needed to have you now or else he was sure he would actually go insane and he couldn’t help himself—he needed to move. He started off slow, bringing himself in and out of you as gently as he could—but he was quick to pick up the pace once he felt how amazing your walled wrapped around him. His fingers roughly grabbed your waist and you were sure there were going to be bruises in the morning, but you didn’t care. 

You loved seeing his little marks that he left around your body; it would only remind you of the amazing night before and the fact that you were his. He lifted your legs up and placed them both behind his head so that he could be closer to you while ramming himself in to you. You absentmindedly clenched around him; the feeling of him stretching out your walls made you want to scream. The sensation obviously had an effect on your boyfriend because he stopped moving and roughly grabbed both your wrists, bringing it up along the sides of your face. 

“Stop that. You know exactly what that does to me. I’m going to come right now and I refuse to come before you do. Fuck baby. You’re so fucking tight and wet I can barely stay in. I would fuck you every single day if I could.” He brushed some of your hair behind your ear and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I could never get enough of you. I want you for the rest of my life. I hope you’re well aware that you’re stuck with me. You’re mine y/n.” 

No matter how many times he would confess his love for you, you were never ready to hear it and your heart would always melt in to a puddle when he did so. You knew by the way he was groaning and roughly kissing you, that he was close to his release. Therefore, you gently squeezed his hand to get his attention. 

“Baby.” 

He looked at you in curiosity. You motioned for him to get off of you but before he could ask what was going on, you turned around and stuck your ass out in front of him. Out of all the positions, doggy was your favorite. There was something so erotic about how animalistic Mark would get in this position. He was rougher and his movements were so much faster in this position. It also turned you on even more when he would shove your face in to the bed sheets. When he realized what you were asking for, he moaned quietly to himself. 

“My dirty little slut wants me to fuck her from behind? Fuck baby. I’m going to fucking wreck you. Get over here.” 

He pulled your ass up against his pelvis and you moaned in sync at the feeling of his hard cock rubbing against your drenched folds. When he brought his hand up and spanked you, you could feel your orgasm building up again. Mark brought his lips up to your neck and started leaving multiple hickeys against it, you were his own personal canvas and he loved knowing people saw that you were spoken for. You pulled on the sheets and quietly screamed in to your pillow as he made his way back inside of you. 

This time, he didn’t give you a second to prepare before roughly thrusting himself in to your cunt. His pace only quickened now that he could reach further in to your soaking pussy. The sound of skin on skin slapping could be heard throughout your room and every so often, Mark would whisper dirty things in your ear. His hands wouldn’t stop lingering everywhere along your body. 

Your boyfriend always needed to be touching you. A lot of times, his touches weren’t even sexual; Mark had a hard time believing you were real and all his to love. Touching you was like a safety blanket to him. It only made him accept that you actually existed and that he was the proud owner of your heart. His hands were one of your favorite body parts—his fingers were long and skinny and you loved how they felt wrapped around your neck, your waist, against your lower back and buried inside your pussy. You also loved how they felt squeezing both your ass and your breasts. 

You brought his hand up to your neck, hinting to him that you wanted to be choked. Although choking was a huge kink of your boyfriend’s, Mark was always very nervous and hesitant because he didn’t want to hurt you. But God, did he love the effect it had on you. 

“Fuck! Did you just get tighter? You’re already soaking and tight as hell baby please tell me you’re close.” You nodded and he gently twisted your head so that he could kiss you. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you so much baby.” Soon, his warm, creamy liquid was filling you up to the hilt and he let out an exhausted whine. 

“Baby I’m so sorry—“ You shook your head and asked him to pull out. Mark had a tendency of reaching his orgasm before you did, but it was understanding. It also did wonders to your confidence knowing that you could have him reach his release in just a matter of minutes.

“Let me ride.” The look on his face sent shivers down your spine. He was quick to lie down against the pillows and pulled you on top of him. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this breathtaking view but I would do it again and again if I had to if it meant getting to love you in every single lifetime.” You smiled down at him; his heartfelt words sent warmth to your cheeks and you knew in that moment that you would do anything he asked of you—however, your smile was quickly replaced with furrowed brows as you bit down on your lip and moaned as you sank down on his dick. 

“Mmm—Daddy—please go faster. Aw fuck—just like that—harder—I’m so close baby.” 

He sat up so he had a better view of your face and took this time to suck on both of your breasts. The feeling of bouncing on him while he was licking and nipping on your breasts brought you closer to your end. You sank up and down on him at a relentless pace; the feeling of his cock gliding against your walls, his fingers gripping on your ass as he helped guide your body against his and the way your ass slapped against his pelvis was a sensation you would never be able to form in to words. His tip kissed the back of your cervix with each and every bounce—and it was beginning to become too much for you to handle. Before you knew it, you were coming all over his dick with him following just seconds after. 

“You’re not real—you can’t be. You’re so perfect y/n what did I do to deserve you?” You shook your head before bringing your hand up to his face and cupping his cheek with your palm. 

“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. I’m sorry again for earlier. I know it’s inevitable that we’ll fight again, but promise me that most fights will end like this.” He chuckled while flopping back down on the bed and bringing you with him. 

“Trust me, I love making love to you at all times, but fucking you after fighting with you is a mind blowing experience. Should we fight again tomorrow?” You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed his shoulder. 

“I can’t feel my legs. You win. You’re calling in sick for me tomorrow.” His laughter engulfed the room and you gently ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Do you want to take a shower? I’ll carry you to the bathroom. Or I can even run you a bath if you’d like.” You shook your head—the thought of having to get up, even if he was going to carry you was exhausting. 

“I just wanna go to sleep. I know you babe—we’re only gonna have more sex in the shower. I’m too sensitive for more sex tonight.” He pouted in to your neck but knew you were right. Mark would never be able to get enough of you and he wanted you to be completely recharged when he decided to have his way with you again. 

“Hey, you said tonight. So tomorrow morning—“ You punched his shoulder as he giggled at the action. 

“You are the horniest human being I know.” He ran his fingers up and down your back while leaving lingering kisses along your cheeks. 

“I mean, have you seen yourself? And your body, God I hate the fact that you’re so insecure about it. Your body is perfect y/n. I love your thick thighs and your curves. And I don’t know why you think your breasts are small, I can barely fit one in my mouth. Oh and this ass, fuck. I cannot get enough of it. I could write a book about how much I love your body alone. Imagine if I were to talk about the love I have for you in general. A fucking novel. I never used to be this soft before. Your love made me all sappy. But it was worth it. You’re worth it. I’d do anything for you. Be anything you want me to. I’d do anything to make you happy. You’re my entire world y/n. I love you.” Tears fell from your eyes and he was quick to kiss them away. 

“Come on my crybaby, let’s go to bed. Since you’re calling out sick tomorrow, I’m planning on having a lazy day—for the most part. At some point I plan on making love to you against the kitchen counter and on the couch. Maybe both. We’ll see if you’re up for it. Goodnight princess. Sweet dreams.”

[crossovereddie]

Thoughts on 11x06

I had to come back to type this after the episode. I was gonna wait to post until more people are active but everyone’s safety is more important than notes. This was really hard for me to watch. It took me two hours because I kept needing a break. It’s a tough one yall. It’s heartbreaking and really brought out issues I didn’t know I was still dealing with until I reacted so badly to some stuff. Take care of yourselves and I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll have timestamps for major tws in another post coming right after this. I just gotta go back and get the end of those scenes. I only go the time they started.

Okay. So. There’s some trigger warnings that I’ve reblogged earlier. This recap WILL have thoughts about those triggers. If you think you’ll be triggered just message me or send me an ask and I’ll give you the non triggering recap. Stay safe please.

Kev and v intro. They’re having sex behind the bar

I’m extremely nervous for some reason I might not be able to get through this

Bike heist!!

LICKEY RIGHTS

LIP CALLS HIM MICK

MISSION IMPISSIBLE

Mickey is unimpressed

Lip telling Mickey what to do yes please

Fucking Mickey omg

HE LOOKS SO GOOD

THE WAY HE SAYS BRAD

Again Mickey is unimpressed

Lip :(

MICKEY CONCERNED ABOUT LIPS SOBRIETY

AGAIN I SAY LICKEY RIGHTS

Frank is falling the chick he’s boning Monica

Not sure that’s her real name

Wait yeah it is

Frank??? Has to get to work???

Wait her name isn’t Monica

Oh shut now I get what’s happening

“Can I speak to Pope Francis please” LIAM 😭

Poor baby

Lip cooking breakfast. Hot.

I forgot about camis baby

I actually beep bad for lip and Tami

We already heard this argument with Mickey and Ian get new material writers

PRODIGAL THEIF

PINK BOX HES SO CUTE

HE LOOKS SO CUTE GOTTA SQUEEZE HIM PLS

Yeah don’t tell Carl that traitor

MICKEY BROUGHT DONUTS PLS

HES SO CUTE

ITS TOO MUCH

I LOVE HIM

HIS SMILE!!!!!!!!

GALLAGHER YOUTH

THAT MEANS MICKEY TOO BYE

CARL CALLING HIM MICK TOO PLS

I CANT TAKE IT

Poor Liam he’s terrified

“I was hoping the fucker would just die” :(

Shut up Debbie

Mickey is beautiful

Leave Mickey out of it debbie goddamn

I cant fucking stand her

Frank just observing his kids and smiling

Same frank

SHUT UP DEBBIE

OH MY GOD HIS LAUGH IS THIS WHAT YOU HEAR WHEN YOU FIRST GET TO HEAVEN????

“And the smartest” lol

Someone save Liam

“I want Sandy”

We all do kid

Fucking manipulative little I CANT STAND DEBBIE

Sandy deserves better

I hate the Milkovichs!!!!

How did smart sensitive sweet beautiful loving Mickey come from this disgusting family????

MICKEY IS THE BOSS

My heart hurts so him

“Homo sexy” dear god

Mickey is too good he deserves so much better

I love him so much

Let him be happy

Mickey has the biggest heart

They’re actually talking and not fighting

CHAPO STFU

You’re so funny and smart and beautiful don’t forget that baby

SUGAR TITS

And no one is fazed lmao

“He’s actually my uncle and my dad” I fucking hate this show

I forgot Carl makes legit money now

Wtf kinda school is this

This is so fucked up

The twins are so adorable

SHUT UP DEBBIE

“You guys” I hate that but also she’s acknowledging Mickey as “hers” and he’s family :(

Okay this horrifying comment

I hate that it’s just nonchalant

Debbie just keeps talking.

Let’s move on

Mickeys face when she says “butt naked”lmao

LIP CALLING HIM MICK AGAIN

“Talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes. Please”

I LOVE IT

Mickey is unimpressed by lip once again and I’m smiling

They love each other they’re secretly best friends ITS A FACT

HAND SHAKE SO CUTE

MY BABIES

“Blue like my balls” fucking frank lol

They’re going in on Frank’s storyline now

Boss Mickey at it again

Terry’s home

The way his face falls im sick

SANDY BABY

My heart is racing

Mickeys face is breaking my heart

Great now I’m crying

Mickey got emotional

Ian sensed it and touched his neck all fucking sweet

Okay I had to take a little break because I started crying

I love him too much

Fucking Noel is so damn good

My heart is fucking breaking

“Frank’s not a homophobic psychopath who tortured you for years”

Please Mickey deserves better

I don’t wanna hear any Ian slander either.

In this house we protect my son and my son in law I will fight you

“Let’s get the fuck outta here. Lip you coming?” 😭

That was so hard to watch yall. I’m not gonna lie to you. My parents weren’t half as shitty as terry but growing up feeling unloved your whole life fucks you up anyway and that brought out some emotions and feelings I didn’t realize I still dealt with. I had to pause for a good while and cry.

Leave Sandy alone debbie

Terry is disgusting

Okay the homophobic language he uses is definitely triggering so I’ll time stamp that too

Debbie you selfish bitch

Everyone leaving terry outside it’s a yes from me

I honestly can’t concentrate on the other scenes now I’m sorry y’all

I try to cover everyone’s scenes but it’s hard for me today

I’m not okay

Liam is too innocent poor kid

MICKEY LIP AND IAN THE BEST TRIO

We need more scenes

I PAUSED TO TYPE AND THE FUCKING LOOK HES GIVING HIM STOP

They’re besties

Mickey is beautiful

MY BABY BUSINESS BOSS MAN I LOVE YOU

he really hasn’t called him Philip the entire episode wtf

Ignoring Debbie

Now I want fries

Carl is cringy

Mickey drove them home and pulled a gun

Honestly again another heartbreaking scene

Ian’s trying to make him stop

Terry is disgusting and also a coward but we’ve been knew

Noel is the most amazing

Mickey gets teary but doesn’t cry bc I cried enough for the both of us

He’s the strongest bravest ever and I’m so proud of him

I need a hug

My heart hurts so much y’all

I just want him to be happy

I’m a fucking mess

I can’t handle Lip being emotional too

Oh I thought lip wanted to sell the house for himself only but at least they all get their share

Horrible music choice

I wanna tuck Mickey in with his favorite tv show on(911) make him his favorite food to eat in bed and not let anyone but Ian around him for a good 72 hours

The way Ian is looking at him

“Would you take care of me if I was paralyzed?”

“....yeah. Yeah”

“Top you whenever I wanted” “asshole”

His smile is back that’s all I need in life

MICKEY IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD

RIP DOWN THAT FLAG YES BABY

“That was big of you” “he’s an asshole...I wanna be better than that”

WHEN I TELL YALL I LOST IT I MEAN FULL ON SOBBING

YOURE ALREADY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT

YOURE SO KIND AND BRAVE AND BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT

Ian’s like “back of the head? Gotta grab and hold my boy”

“You are so much better than that” IAN MY SWEET SON IN LAW I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR LOVING OUR BOY SO WELL

IAN IS THE MOST SUPPORTIVE HUSBAND

V spitting truth

I want terry to fucking suffer

Don’t do it frank

“Nah” LMAO

Frank loves his son in law

Sandy I love you

I need to hold her

No debbie I LOVE HER

NO SANDY LOVE ME INSTEAD

DEBBIE DOESNT DESERVE YOU

Carl scene was so awful I feel so bad for him this girl is a fucking psycho

That was an actual rape scene what the fuck

Mickey making frank laugh

Debbie explaining? Really?

I hate her

“How long is this gonna take? I’m fucking starving Lip” WHY WONT YOU CALL HIM PHILIP

“We could get on with our lives” well that hurt more than it should’ve

It’s really the end soon huh? 😢

According to captions Ian says “we’re in”

Frank reads his diagnosis

Carl goes to report his rape

That took me nearly two hours to watch. Yeah I usually pause to type but I had to take long breaks after the hard scenes. It was a really hard episode to watch. A lot darker than it has been. I’m not really okay right now. It was emotional but a really good episode overall.

[delusion-of-negation]

Learned something new today and that's that my fetish has a name lmao. Also found out that my more prominent paraphilia is called autoassassinophilia.

Unfortunately I also had to see a blog post that was like "Having erotophonophilic thoughts is worrisome and concerning" and I cannot stress how much I hate the "Ooooh acckckckkctually the fetishes you have dictate whether or not you're a moral person and if you have like a rape fetish or something even 'worse' you're a bad person and people should be worried." As if people chose their paraphilias. Wack.

But yeah anyway glad to have proper words now because I've just been calling it random similar words that like...can also encapsulate these fetishes but don't need to.

yee, fun fact about erotophonophilia is that an attempted list of necrophilia "types" that has a million and one flaws was made, and it's listed in "dangerousness", and they kinda assume for some that everyone will act on it, and for some reason they put erotophonophilia in there, but they list it as less dangerous than an "exclusive necrophilia" for some reason??? like apparently the person who kills people is less dangerous? their reasoning was that the necrophiliac could potentially kill people to aquire corpses if they couldn't get a job in a funeral home, but like??? that remains the most baffling thing I've read. bro if you assume everyone acts on it then the dude who definitely kills people vs a maybe..?

and ugh ikr??? like bro I just wanna have my lil' freaky thoughts in peace. been told my whole life that I'm unlovable, that I'm broken, that I'm dangerous, that I'm weird, because my mental health doesn't exist and catholic guilt and gay, and I'm a big horror fan, and my brain just had some funky disco party and shook too hard so that all got jumbled up, and now I've got some weird reverse bonnie and clyde syndrome, and fantasise about somebody loving me enough that they'd happily do the unthinkable and kill with me. and also gore is kinda pretty ngl. that doesn't mean I'm an asshole or morally lacking or whatever, it just means I'm sexy and funky.

yeah, I remember learning the word and being like "holy shit there are people like me and it's not that I'm secretly harbouring a violent devil that must be suppressed, I'm just super kinky" and eventually it gets easier to just daydream about it and not feel like you're committing sin. that said, be careful getting too deep into that community, there's a lot of edgelords talking a bunch of "the moment the soul exits such frail human forms at the behest of my shimmering blade" purple prose stuff, and I'm sure it's chill for people who like that, but it makes me do a little cringe, like bro I'm more of a rampant and unhinged carnage kinda person, swingin' axes.