#there IS something to be said about acting like it’s bad for women to desire sex

[lesbiansanemi]

I’m honestly here for a lot of the criticisms for the way the Barbie movie approached “feminism” and a lot of it is right about it being surface level at best and in certain aspects, way too white/cis/hetero centric to be meaningful (esp in the sense that it never actually acknowledges the negative aspects OF Barbie as a brand, not that it was going to given it was a Brand movie)

BUT

Like y’all know you can criticize all that stuff without also parroting anti-asexual rhetoric, right? Like you know you can do that?

Like this is literally just that shit that’s like “sex and sexual desire IS what makes us human actually” and “ace/aro ppl can’t actually be in relationships or love anyone”

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

Okay so we jest about a kiss being all it took for Colin to absolutely plummet into his feelings, (as we should it was so very entertaining), but there is also something so sweet and tender and heartbreaking about it.

Colin has been with many women during his travels, and this ill fitting attempt at preforming what he thinks people want from him and what will carve him a place in society has led to all of them being casual. He dose exactly what boys his age talk about, what his older brothers did and told him to do, what he thought would put things in perspective and make them make sense. The casual distance of it all with his caviller attitude was, as Violet said, armour. Armour that is certainly safer than true genuine feelings, especially after the hurt of season one and his feelings of a complete lack of purpose in season two, but not what he actually wants or desires.

Colin is sensitive, he's loving, he's romantic. We can see from his journals how poetically he writes of the woman he was with even in a casual, non romantic setting, and it is a steep difference to how his 'friends' speak of the woman they were with. He questions how something can be so intimate and yet so distant, so lonely, because that's not what he wants. He wants a genuine, bone deep connection. He wants to know the person, he wants to love them and be loved by them, he wants to care, he wants it to be a mutual act of emotion and passion and feeling and tenderness and love.

And he felt more of that from one kiss with Penelope than any woman he slept with in months. And that's only like half of what he realised in that moment. No shit the boy was down bad waking up in sweat and sprawled across his blankets. Who wouldn't be?

[direquail]

I think what bothers me most about how John is talked about in the fandom is the implication that a different (implied: better) person would've done things differently and somehow more right than he did.

When the text goes to lengths to explore how suddenly coming into an incredible amount of power in a fatally constrained situation cannot lead to a good outcome.

If you're putting John in dialogue with the concept of the "magical girl", which Muir has said he is (a little tongue in cheek, but)--these are young, often profoundly unready people, who often get taken advantage of by the people who give them their powers. And like, yes, John is not a teenager, but I think that's part of the point, is that at no point is a person really prepared to become as powerful as he did--even before he merged with Alecto. Even when he was fully in control of his powers, even when they were given with honest intent and trust, even when he used them with the best of intentions and tried to do the right thing, there was no way for him to be prepared, especially given the situation he was in.

And it's funny to talk about how bad John must be in bed, but also, this isn't a scenario where John is some self-deluding Elon Musk-like villain or loser. He is genuinely trying to do the right thing, in terms of rescuing the Earth's population, rescuing the Earth Herself, and doing it ethically (see: M--'s insistence that they perfect the cryo containers until they could transport pregnant women).

I really do think this is something people are blocking out, because it is one of the uncomfortable parts of Muir's message with the series. But ESPECIALLY because the people "critiquing" him as an embodiment of patriarchy and empire are failing to see that part of Muir's critique is of human vulnerability to power: That is, that power corrupts.

And this even has echoes with Gideon & Harrow's story! Harrow begins the series in a deeply unequal dynamic with Gideon! And she does horrible things, not just because she is traumatized, but because she is traumatized and has the power to act her desires out on Gideon. She might have the motive (trauma), but that's not enough without the means (power).

And, yeah, I do have a semi-salty angle on this because people are frequently loath to think critically not just about axes of oppression but individual relationships of power when it applies to them and to people they like. ESPECIALLY when there is a very vocal segment of the fandom that is enthusiastically pro-harassment. It's very convenient to villainize John and actively dis-identify with him, because otherwise, you'd have to face the question of whether you'd do any better in his place. But the thing is, the mission of revenge he embarks on is a lot closer to many peoples' hearts than they'd like to consider.

That's the whole point.

[transmutationisms]

oh i would actually be curious to hear your thoughts on lolita book covers in that case. i do get the sense that some of the covers are designed to uncritically titilate and seem to misunderstand the text, but that could obviously be an assumption on my part lol.

oh i agree that the cover designs tend to run counter to nabokov's intentions, both in the text and in the literal instructions he gave about covers lol. they pretty clearly rely on putting some young girl on display, which is exactly what nabokov did not want to do visually; they also tend to suggest dolores as some kind of seductress (sultry gazes, pouty lips, &c). clearly this is precisely the opposite of what the text tells us about her.

however when evaluating these visual choices i find that many people portray them as some kind of originary and culturally polluting act: that is, a narrative emerges that the problem here is people misinterpreting 'lolita', and then publishing it with covers that will do harm to young girls &c. i think this is lazy analysis and fundamentally makes idealist assumptions overestimating the effect of cultural products (books, book covers) on problems, like the sexualisation of children, that are in fact grounded in material relations, such as in this case the status of children as legal property and the total power granted to adults over them. that is to say, these broader conditions are at root the reason that cultural products like the cover of 'lolita' look the way they do, and chalking it up to individuals not understanding the book is never going to get us very far; and also, although some of these covers are pretty egregious, they are the reflection rather than the cause of the sexualisation of children, a problem that would continue to exist even if every edition of 'lolita' ever printed just said "humbert humbert is an unreliable narrator and dolores haze is a child he is preying on" on the cover.

fundamentally i also think this sort of conversation often elides some more interesting points about whom these covers communicate to and what they say. you suggest they are meant to "titillate"; although i would agree dolores is often shown as sexual, desirable, and seductive, i'm not sure that's the same as assuming the cover is trying to arouse the potential reader. for one thing, to put it bluntly, this style of cover tends to be associated more with books marketed to women than to heterosexual men. and more broadly, and this is something the lolita podcast really fails to understand imo, the phenomenon of people reading 'lolita' and relating themselves to dolores is not mutually exclusive with this type of rhetorical construction of dolores-through-humbert's-eyes. that is, often what appeals about dolores is, i think, precisely the fact that through her, people find a way of discoursing about or simply re-enacting the kind of sexualisation that they are already subjected to or have been in the past, whether or not at a level as explicit and extreme as what nabokov depicts.

i'm not really interested in a simple moral condemnation of the people who design these covers; that critique writes itself. they are obviously bad and facile, and reflective of precisely the culture of child sexual abuse that nabokov's text condemns. but if we are interested in the reception of these objects, or interrogating the cultural meaning and implications of their existence, i just think there's a lot more going on here than what the podcast portrays as a simple sort of 'broadcast' model of mass media wherein the 'lolita' book cover and trope is beamed out to unsuspecting innocents who are then exposed to its nefarious elements. dolores appeals to people for lots of reasons, some prurient, some pitying, some openly self-projective, and these are not mutually exclusive with one another nor are they mutually exclusive with readings that reproduce elements of the very lolita character that humbert creates and uses to silence and re-write dolores. we can be uncomfortable with that and refuse to talk about it but if that's the position someone wants to take then i'm not likely to be interested enough in their opinions to, like, listen to their podcast about this book lol.

[odessa-2]

Titbits and analysis 🖖

As promised, some more titbits from the Con yesterday in Melbourne as well as my interpretations. Prior to attending yesterday, I told myself to keep an open mind and attempt to leave any biases behind (even after having seen the funeral pics). Clean slate. To try and view Sam, the event, questions, and subsequent behaviours objectively.

I'm the sort of person who feels energy and is affected by it and in some ways governed by it. The energy of people, both individually and collectively. The energy of a group. I tend to couple this with objective analysis, which forms the basis of my conclusions about people and situations.

I applied this method yesterday in attempting to understand and view Sam, the OL money 💰 machine and everything else. I also just wanted to go there and bask in the audience and enjoy myself....and....I did like it Jamie.

So first thing I noticed off the cuff was how experienced Sam was in handling questions, and the women, and tailoring his behaviour to suit their desires. He was charming, charismatic, approachable, a skilled professional. I saw the veneer. I felt the veneer. I also saw and felt that he is a pretty decent bloke under that veneer. A man with a solid work ethic, who is mild mannered and working with purpose in his life.

I observed that his handler or Convention agent or whatever he is, Steve, was in full control. He managed Sam's performance in a sense. He asked the questions and even set the directions for some answers. Sam is controlled. I didn't like Steve. I didn't get the best vibe off him. Infact, I got a bad vibe off him. I observed that everything was a performance. Scripted to a large degree. The Single Sam narrative was pushed by Steve. Hard. It was a performance. That much was clear to me.

So Sam chose to mention that he was in Austria skiing 2 weeks ago....blah blah...something about singing a Ronan Keating song. So the script tells everyone nice and early that he is NOT with Caitriona ✅️

Later on in the panel, he mentioned that he "was at the theatre in London the week earlier" watching a play. Huh? Getting his timeline confused? Interesting titbit, I thought. Who would he go to the theatre with whilst in London? Who else likes to go to the theatre? Who have we seen him go to the theatre with before? Ding ding ding!!

One of the first things he spoke about (umprompted) and imo was part of his speaking program, was that Caitriona is back home in Scotland doing prep work and will be directing this season. He said that he spoke to her recently and that she is cold and miserable back home. No one seemed to give a shit. The women were there for their Jamie. Sam read the crowd. He understood.

Sam tried to bring Cait into the conversation again saying something like "Where's Claire?....Caitriona isn't here". Again crickets from the audience.

He said that he auditioned with a lot of Claire's, but they couldn't find the right fit and that nobody was as brilliant as Caitriona.

It sounded like he genuinely missed her.

He spoke of his audition with Cait, saying they were very physical and were almost wrestling each other. He said he was sweating all over her and that his sweat was on her. The crowd still only wanted to hear about their Jamie. I think Sam relished in being cheeky in saying that she wore his sweat that day.

Someone asked about "how do you kiss and make out with a costar and then just carry-on. Isn't it awkward"? Sam responded generally initially, saying that there's lots of checking in with the person and apologising afterwards (in a joking fashion). Then that prompted him to start talking about Cait saying that he has also "snotted" all over Cait and exchanged many body fluids with her (in an acting context presumably)and that there's nothing really left to do together that they haven't already done. I was like "whoooaa wtf Sam?". Shooketh that he said that really. The silence from the crowd was palpable. They really didn't want to hear about Cait and Sam and their shared bodily fluids whilst 'acting'. He is THEIR fantasy man. Not Caitriona's. Silence from the audience. Sam already knew that the crowd were Sam onlies but he loved telling this story. Relished in it imo. He loved the double entendre. It was an unrehearsed, unscripted conversation as it resulted from an audience question. I concluded it was an act of defiance on his behalf. That's what it felt like to me.

Steve the convention agent guy, was always bringing it back to Single Sam. "I worry how are you going to get a date" said Steve. With Sam understanding the prompt ...."I worry too" says Sam. Bachelor narrative secured ✅️

Steve spruked the Bachelor narrative again to Sam's thirsty and adoring fans....."Sam you remind me of that old show where everyone has to guess which bachelor is going to come out of the mystery door". And that's when I knew with 100 percent certainty that the bachelor talk was a ruse. It was so contrived and performative. I smiled to myself. The women in the crowd were eating it up.

Another thing that stood out to me was when Sam was searching for the right terminology when talking about Cait. "My......co star" huge pause.

"I love you Claire" is the line he randomly chose to say when explaining his acting.

When asked how he has time to foster friendships and spend time with his family he talked around it. Avoided the question and kept it about his friendships saying that they are strong friendships that endure. He diverged and started talking about how he still has his core friendships that he had when he was bunking and sharing an apartment/house with them in London when he was younger. The veneer was up. Inpenetrable.

At another point in the panel Sam asked "How many Sheila's are there here"? LOL. I found that amusing.

Now this next part captured my attention the most. It had a weird feeling (energy) around it . Sam gave off a weird energy. Almost hostile. Again that's just what I felt.

Someome from the audience named Toni with an "I" was selected to ask a question. I can't remember what the question was but Sam made a really big deal about her being named Toni. "There's always a Tony have you noticed"? Why is there always a Tony"? He said. He didn't want to drop it. He placed a little too much emphasis on it. I was laughing silently but Sam's double entendre didn't go unnoticed by me. Everyone else was clueless or at least that's how it appeared to me. Was that an Easter egg dropped by Sammy?

Asked about what does he do for self care, he seemed to struggle answering that too. He talked in circles about his way points hike and how he's learning how to live in the moment. There's that wall again.

There were many other things discussed of course but I thought I'd focus on the things that shed light on his situation and that resonated with me.

So my closing Analysis? Sam is controlled. He peforms. He caters. He's intelligent and in tune with people and aims to please but is private. Sunday just reaffirmed and solidified my beliefs. Caitriona snatched up that hard working gem of a man quick smart!

[gamergirl929]

The Second Our Eyes Met (I Knew I Wanted You) (Christen Press x Reader)

When Christen Press caught your eyes across the party, she felt an immediate spark, what she didn't expect was to be pinned between you and the bathroom door soon after, her lips slamming against yours.

Anonymous Request: G!P reader x christen press, they hook up in the bathroom at a party, reader has christen stare at herself in the mirror.

Anonymous Request: How about a ‘you can’t get enough of me huh? ;) ’ prompt for the g!p smut you were talking about?

Disclaimer: First of all, this fic is 100% NSFW, so if that isn't your thing, I'd DEFINITELY skip this one considering it's basically porn without plot. Also, this a g!p reader fic, so also avoid if that isn't your thing. Other than that, please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Her eyes had been on you all night, green orbs boring into you from across the room.  

Typically, you would have approached her without a second thought, but something about her made her seem unapproachable.  

Maybe it was the women around her?  

Maybe it was the fact that this event was meant to be formal, and making a pass at a random woman would most likely be frowned upon by the others around you? 

However, the more you caught her gaze, the more you found yourself not caring.  

You eye her intently, drinking her in your eyes raking down her body, from her green orbs, down her chest, to her muscular calves, until you eventually settle on her high heels.  

You didn’t know who she was, you didn’t care in all honesty.  

You wanted her, and you wanted her bad, the thought of her fluttering around you as you were buried deep inside her made the appendage between your legs begin to stir. 

You clear your throat, downing the last of your glass of whiskey before heading to the open bar, intent on getting another, knowing full well that this was going to be a long night. 

************************************************************************

Christen Press didn’t know your name, she knew nothing about you, but she wanted you, wanted you beyond belief, something she’d never experienced with anyone.  

Anytime she’d glance your way, she’d find your eyes already on her, the thought of you staring at her making her core flutter.  

She’d never felt outright lust for anyone, at all, but currently gazing across the room, she felt a strong desire to drag you into an adjacent room and have her way with you, eager to ride the appendage between your legs, something revealed by the noticeable bulge in your pants.  

Your throat visibly bobs as you catch her looking at said bulge, shifting to hide it from view, but now that she’d noticed it, she couldn’t help but stare.  

The more she stared, the more you wanted her, the more you wanted to drag her into a secluded room and use the very thing she’d been staring at most of the night.  

You sip your whiskey, your throat bobbing as you reluctantly turn away from the woman, brainstorming on how you might get her alone, hoping that the looks she’d been giving you all night meant she wanted you just as much as you wanted her.  

You move to your feet, leaving your empty tumbler behind before you make your way towards where you know the restroom is located, hopeful that she won’t be far behind.

************************************************************************

Christen watches as you make your way out of the room, eager to follow behind you, but she knew she had to make an excuse so her teammates wouldn’t come looking for her.  

“Can you hold this?” She whispers to Alex Morgan who takes her drink, one of her perfect brows arched in question.  

“Restroom.” Christen says simply before making her way out of the room, confident she’d be able to track you down and act on the desire she was feeling, a thrum of excitement pulsing between her legs.  

It doesn’t take her long to find the restroom, and when she does, she sees you leaning against the bathroom counter, your eyes darting to her reflection in the full-length mirror covering one of the bathroom’s walls.  

“That didn’t take long.” You say suggestively, her breath hitching as you back her up against the ornate door behind her, twisting the lock to avoid any unwanted interruptions.  

With no prompting, she grabs the front of your suit jacket and pulls you in, her lips slamming against yours.  

You pick her up with ease, carrying her to the sink before placing her on the counter, your tongue sliding into her open mouth, earning a breathy moan from the woman whose name you didn’t even know.  

Your hands run down her body before settling on her waist, squeezing her sides as the two of you kiss feverishly.  

A beat passes before your jacket is shoved off and your dress shirt is unbuttoned, falling to the bathroom floor, leaving you in nothing but your bra.  

Her lips leave yours before finding your pulse point, her tongue running up the column of your neck before sucking a bruise into your tanned skin.  

You wrap your fingers around the top of her dress, the brunette pulling back slightly to whisper.  

“Careful.” She says as she pants heavily, a smirk stretching across your face.  

“Can’t have your friends knowing you came in here to fuck a complete stranger?” You grin cockily, the woman gasping when your hand slides up the hem of her dress, your palm resting on her mound, her panties already soaked through.  

In any other situation, she’d be embarrassed at how wet she was, but in this moment, all embarrassment flew out the window, she wanted one thing, and that was to orgasm, an orgasm she wanted you to give her.  

“God, you’re soaked for me, aren’t you?” You rasp in her ear, the brunette unable to bite back a moan when you grab her panties, tearing them from her body, the shredded garment falling to the floor.  

“Now that, that’s out of the way.” You growl before your fingers slide through her wet lips, the woman moaning when your fingertips brush her clit.  

“Right there?” You ask, her lips leaving your neck as you draw small, lazy circles against her clit. 

“Faster.” She begs, and you chuckle.  

“Like this?” You ask, the brunette using your shoulder to muffle her cry as you begin drawing rapid, relentless circles against her clit.  

“You like that?” You whisper, earning a rapid nod when you flatten your palm against her, your fingertips teasing her entrance.  

A sudden knock on the door makes you stiffen, your eyes widening as they lock with the woman’s who’s resting on the counter in front of you.  

“Christen? Are you in there?” A voice sounds from the other side, and you snigger, using one hand to drag her dress downwards to reveal her breasts.  

Christen muffles her cries into your shoulder as you cup her breast, your thumb brushing against erect nipple. 

“Ye-Yeah, I’m alright.” She pauses mid-sentence, gasping when your lips wrap around one of the dark buds.  

“J-J-Just...” She pauses, her face scrunching up as your hand travels south again, your fingers again finding her clit. 

Her mouth hangs wide open as you circle her clit before dipping a finger inside her, her inner walls fluttering around the digit.  

“Are you okay? Do you want me to come in?” The voice asks, the woman in your arms doing everything she can to remain quiet as you slip another finger inside her, your fingers curling as they brush against the spot inside her that makes her whimper.   

“No! I’m okay, I’ll-I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She gasps, her hands now resting on your back, her nails digging into your skin.  

“Okay, well if you need me, just call me, okay?” They say as your fingers slide in and out of her tight heat. 

“I will.”  

Moments later, footsteps carry the person away from the door, the woman in your arms growling as she hastily undoes your belt.  

“Eager?” You tease, Christen moaning as your fingers pound repeatedly into her.  

“I want your cock, not your fingers.” She growls, shoving your pants off, the article of clothing falling in a heap around your ankles before you step out of them and kick them across the bathroom floor.  

You groan, your fingers stilling when she palms you through your boxers, a raspy growl rumbling in your throat as your lips again meet hers, your tongue sliding into her open mouth.  

Her legs wrap around your middle as you pull her closer, her core resting against your stomach as you kiss hungrily. 

She gives her hips a roll, groaning as her clit grinds against your abdomen, the woman wanting to be wrapped entirely around you, to have you deep inside her reaching places your fingers couldn’t.  

She makes her intentions known when she uses her heels to hook into your boxers and drag them down your body, your erection springing free.  

“You want my cock that bad, huh Christen?” You ask, your lips brushing as you whisper, your hand settling on the erect rod between your legs.  

You pump it softly, groaning into her mouth as you line yourself up with her entrance.  

“Are you ready?” You ask, running your tip through her soaked lips, her core latching onto you with each pass.  

Wordlessly, she wraps her legs back around you, pulling you into her, the action making your brows furrow in pleasure as you push yourself up on your tip toes, now fully sheathed inside her. 

“Yeahhh.” You moan as she adjusts to the stretch, her core fluttering around you.  

You give your hips an experimental thrust upwards, Christen’s breath hitching her nails digging into your back as you start a rhythm.  

Your thighs slap together softly, but neither of you care, the two of you overcome with pleasure.  

“Faster.” She sighs, your hips snapping upward roughly, causing her to bite your neck to stop herself from crying out.  

You pound into her relentlessly, her mouth hanging wide open, her brows furrowed.  

She lets out a gasp when you lift her into the air and place her against a nearby wall, her legs wrapped tightly around you as you again start thrusting into her, burying yourself deep inside her.  

“Look at yourself, Christen.” You whisper in her ear, your tongue running along the shell of her ear.  

Christen’s unable to stop herself from moaning when her eyes lock with her own in the mirror, the woman watching as you thrust rapidly into her, bringing her a sense of pleasure she never felt before. 

The thrill of being caught only heightened that pleasure, the fact that a few rooms away was filled with people who could catch the two of you at any moment.  

“Look how bad you want me; you can’t get enough of me can you? You can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” You ask, pounding into her, her breath catching in her throat.  

It’s when her breath starts to hitch rapidly that you know she's close, the tingling at the base of your cock telling you that you won’t be far behind.  

“You want to come baby?” You ask, Christen nodding as she begins slamming down onto your roughly, chasing her release which you know isn’t far off.  

Her walls flutter rapidly around you, before she goes stiff in your hold.  

She slams her lips against yours, allowing you to swallow her cries as she comes undone, trembling violently in your arms. 

You groan into her open mouth, still thrusting hard as your thighs begin to quake, streams of your seed spewing into her as you shudder, burying your face in her neck as you groan.  

It isn’t long before the two of you still, both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, both panting loudly as you pull away from one another, before surging back in for one more heated kiss.  

You pull back slowly, placing her on the floor, letting her steady herself before you step backwards and retrieve your boxers, pulling them up over your near flaccid cock.  

Christen pulls her dress upward, covering her breasts before flattening it out, ridding it of any creases, of any signs that something may have happened in the restroom.  

She glances across the bathroom, watching as you button your dress shirt before tugging your jacket on. 

Much to her surprise, you make your way back towards her, guiding her back into the wall before your hand slides up the hem of her dress, Christen gasping when you start drawing wild, sloppy circles against her clit.  

It isn’t long before her back is arching, and she’s coming for a second time, a lengthy whine sounding into your shoulder.  

You smirk, teasingly circling her clit before she grabs your wrist, unable to take more of your teasing caresses.  

You lick your lips, your eyes running down her front before the smirk you're wearing splits into a cocky grin.

“Sorry, i just had to see that face again." You smile, eyeing her intently before you take a step back.

"See you around Chris.” You wink, adjusting your outfit before making your way out of the bathroom, still wearing that same smug smile.  

Christen pants heavily against the bathroom wall, her pleasure entirely sated.  

She makes herself look more presentable before making her way out of the bathroom, her teammates turning her way in confusion.  

“Are you okay?” Alex asks, sipping her wine as she eyes her fellow forward worriedly.  

“Ye-Yeah.” Christen clears her throat, her green orbs darting around the room before settling on you, a tumbler of whiskey in your hand, which you raise to her before downing it with a grin.  

“I’m great actually.” She smirks, taking her wine glass from Alex’s hand and taking a sip, her green orbs locking with your Y/E/C’s as she licks her lips.  

You shoot her a wink, unbeknownst to the women around her before turning back to your tumbler of whiskey, sipping the amber colored liquid, elated that you’d came to this party in the first place.  

[powerpuffobsession]

Am I the only one who feels that Hazbin Hotel's overall vibe is far too naive and upbeat for an adult cartoon about hell and redemption of sinners?

I feel like before writing this cartoon, Vivzie and the other writers should have made a trip to unfortunate areas of the world and watch how the lifestyle there rolls. Because hell is said to be a place of misery, where there is no trust and a lot of hate, both internal and external... Adam is an object of pure unfiltered hartred (both from writers and fandom) because he dares to live in heaven, such a safe and friendly-natured place...

And yet the sinners who happen to be main characters act more like school kids on a field trip (even more carefree than those, lol) - their selfish and sinful motives are so artificial and are brought up only when these characters need to look like a victim, not like criminals who somehow deserved a place in hell

Obviously, it's a manipulative trope to put them in a better light than Heaven and Adam (who is forever silenced by the writers and not allowed to voice any thoughts and reflections other than "hurr durr murder I luuuv murdering and being evil because that's what I was since I was born, even though Lilith and Eve, born literally the same way as me, were innocent victims from the get go, and no logical explanation for that will be provided whatsoever - men bad, women good")

In the light of all that, the sinners are too eager to trust each other and form "da epic powar of friendship" mlp-sonic-style

In a society built on terror, anarchy and survival instincts, no one would ever bother wasting vital power on noticing someone's problems and helping them out. Everyone is focused on their own problems and desires, and that's what drives them to act. Well, the exception may be family members, and even that varies

That's why Husk's intent to comfort Angel after the later attacks him over nothing at the bar, looks really fake, considering the setting. At first I thought that "loser baby" where Husk insults Angel, was some sort of revenge and Husk laughing in the spider's face. But no, it actually turned out to be a comforting song that started their friendship. Husk literally had no motivation to want to help Angel, because he was annoyed by him all the time prior. If there was some kind of basis for their bonding, I would have believed it. But not like this.

And Angel had no reason to actually like that sort of comfort. I get it when your best friend or a family member cheers you up in a harsh way - you know them. And even when coming from people you trust that can hurt. Now imagine a complete stranger doing that to you. That's actually something that shouldn't be done - trying to playfully insult or jester a person you haven't communicated with for a long enough time to gain their trust. And to make this even more strange, Angel at first reacts negatively, but then suddenly snaps to liking that disrespectful way of comforting for no reason at all.

And why did Angel even vent his problems to Husk, a stranger bartender who he'd hurt before. Wasn't he actually afraid of being laughed at and of Husk using his trauma to spread gossip around or something?

Next, Sir Pentious. In the pilot (which is officially part of canon, mind you), he already felt like a joke sunday cartoon villain, but at least he had some edge to him that made him look like a sinner with some dark history. In the series however, he gets nerfed the very moment he steps into the hotel to the point where it's painful to look at

His tendency to abuse his henchmen, his physopathic demeanor, his hartred for Cherri (instead of embarrassing attempts to get blue balled by her), his sincere power hunger - where did all that go? Vanished in a blink of an eye. All that's left of a promising snake demon is a pile of fanservice. So morally unchallenging and harmless that a viewer theoretically simply cannot resist loving him

Well i'm kind disappointed. We don't even know in what way Sir Pentious had to improve, because the plot never focused on his past, his life goals, whatever made him want to lead turf wars and whatever awful things he did in life, what was the point where he started degrading... none of that. He just became a better person after one "sorry song" and acted perfectly innocent ever since and didnt put any effort into getting ready to sacrifice himself for other main characters

The sacrifice... to me it's baffling how fast the sinners, over the course of just 6 months, actually became Charlie's family figures and risked their lives for her hotel. Such pure child-cartoon-styled power of friendship, built in hell, with the aid of a princess who cant even think through her project of helping sinners without bringing them more trouble... realistically, Charlie would have had to fight angels alone (how convenient it is that no main characters died in that chaotic brawl, right?)

And Charlie herself is far too naiive and soft-natured for someone who is free to walk along the streets of hell looking at all the muder, rape and othe horrible stuff that's happening there. Given that she's 200, Charlie had more than enough time to built up her street smarts and guts and learn to be more practical and mindful, instead of staying with the mind of a 12 year old who needs other characters to do everything for her (Lucifer, Vaggie, Alastor) and then get praised for THEIR efforts. That's hell's royalty and our main character?

Aaand since sinners are portrayed as Charlie's "people" (as if they are a nationality), sweet babies who all deserve redemption and are called innocent by Emily (I can't believe how dumb the writers made angels be) - the true essence of exterminatons is never focused on. Adam and his exterminator army are seen in the wrong, like some kind of monsters who terrorize poor souls. However, think about this - child molesters, rapists, torturers, bullies, nazists, actual racists etc died in those exterminations. Doesnt that seem like something a lot of us would want? To have scum like this disappear as revenge for people they have hurt/driven to suicide?

Exterminations are not really an act of racism, bigotry or something like that. They are an excecution of criminals, which a lot of sinners are.

But the black and white writing is trying to conceal that rather prominent highlight of the rotten part of Charlie's plan (not all sinners deserve mercy or redemption). All that was needed was to make exterminators these icky "villains" who luuuv killing and are never willing to listen

All in all, a cartoon that has an ambitious premise that should be driven by psychological reasearch/analysis and dark serious themes... makes me roll my eyes with its cliche use of "power of friendship" and " strictly good main characters, strictly bad villains" tropes. Too bad such beautiful animation was wasted on such juvenile writing that never had any effort put into it

There shouldn't even be any villains or heroes in a setting like this. Allow the lead roles (sinners in hell) do something actually questionable and be unlikable, don't coddle the viewer in fear of making them even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Allow those, who opposes sinmers, have personalities and reasons, not cliche sociopathy for sociopathy's sake to cause forced sympathy for the main characters

Pristine "safe" writing should not have a place in adult cartoons. Or else they will stay a product that'd rather be watched by 7-14 year olds instead of adults (I can't picture a single adult over 22 who would unironically call hazbin hotel a show that tackles realistic issues in an observant way)

[anamericangirl]

Wanna know something interesting? On my main, 10 years ago, I got banned from Tumblr and have been hiding and sending asks as Anon ever since, because I realized Tumblr is full of very hostile people.

The reason I got banned was because, in response to people screaming about "misgendering" and "using the correct pronouns" I said, and was very firm about this, "You are responsible for your own comfort, and nobody else is. If you are forcing other people to make you comfortable, you're an ass hole, and if they comply and aren't being paid, that's slavery. You're basically forcing people to be maids that fluff your pillows and bring you hot cocoa and giving them nothing in return other than not being screamed at or harassed or attacked or canceled. That's slavery. Be responsible for your own comfort, just like everyone else does."

It included a comparison.

"If there was a bully in a school who attacked people when they heard their first and last name, and it was so bad that they were attacking teachers and staff as well as students, there's two ways to solve it.

Way 1: Pull the bully out of school, contact their parents, and talk to them about potentially sending the kid to therapy or homeschooling them because they're biting people and attacking people. One way or another, do not keep the kid in school.

Way 2: Assemble the entire school of 3000 students and try to convince each and every one of them that there's a new rule in school: Never say the bully's first and last name.

I was afraid to say it before, but I wanted to say "The liberal left chooses Way 2."

Instead of convincing the 0.004% of the population that's trans to stop attacking people over pronouns and stop demanding to go in women's restrooms, the left is trying to convince 9 billion people to pronoun people correctly and 4 billion women to be comfortable with men pretending to be women walking into their restroom.

People need to stop trying to change the world for their own comfort levels, and instead focus on making themselves comfortable. And if being comfortable requires manipulating people and forcing people to act different, you need to either get away from those people, or get used to how they act because you have no right to force people to change their personality to fit your comfort levels.

It sucks you got banned for that because it's 1000% correct.

No one is responsible for your own comfort except you. You can't control the speech of everyone else and tailor it to your own desires. You need to toughen up and learn that people are going to say things you don't like and there's nothing you can do about it. If your identity, happiness and comfort depend on what other people say and think in regards then you will never be happy and you have no one to blame but yourself.

You don't have the right to make everyone else uncomfortable and unhappy just so you feel better and we need to stop catering to people who are trying to compel speech.

That is evil and under no circumstances should we allow it.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Innata Malevolentia - Part Three (End)

Summary: She's managed to avoid him, but is she only delaying the inevitable? | Word Count: 4.3k ~ | warnings below the cut! please read, this is DD:DNE!

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

warnings: DD:DNE, rape, noncon, choking, injury, violence, threatening language and actions, hair pulling, spitting, vivid descriptions of sexual assault, suicidal thoughts, murderous intent, slapping, punching, blood

‘The moment of betrayal is the worst, the moment when you know beyond any doubt that you've been betrayed: that some other human being has wished you that much evil’.

She read the passage over and over again, her fingers drifting across the torn page, curled and frayed from years of use.

Some other woman aboard the ship had read this book before it seemed, and found it necessary to highlight the passage with a soft pencil line underneath, as if she were not sure if she should be writing in the book at all.

Unsure.

She shut the book with force, not bothering to save her place. A kind of hot, poking fear prickling at the back of her neck like a spirit had entered the room and was looking right over her shoulder.

The other book she’d swiped from the Rec Room was no better at alleviating her worries.

The same woman, she surmised who had read the first, had also read this one too.

‘Why do men have to kill beautiful things?’

There was some irony in the sense that a ship, packed with a dozen prisoners, who had all done meaningfully and equally horrendous crimes, was also packed to the brim with dark books and crime novels.

Was she a beautiful thing? She asked herself.

She was a woman. That alone did not make her beautiful.

She had done unapologetically horrific, morbid things, all in service to satiate a mortal desire inside.

One she had felt when she’d pressed that scalpel to Ettore’s neck and pushed, watching the veins and arteries beneath throb with life.

It was a shameful thing to admit to herself, that she’d wanted to see that life blood coat her hands, just as they had done on Earth all those years before.

To compare herself to him, did her no favours. She was merely opening yet another argument inside of one. Who is inherently good, amongst murderers and rapists?

There was nobody good here.

They were made for this. Built to suffer.

And it was Dibs who had dared to introduce their sexuality into that suffering. And she didn’t know if she could ever forgive the old bitch for that.

When men like Ettore see a woman, they see a small, pliant, weak little thing. Something to be twisted and bent to his liking, in positions most favourable to him. A man that revelled and moaned at their displeasure, drinking it in like a life essence, as if he could not survive without it.

She didn’t doubt that there were many before, women who had the unfortunate chance to happen upon him. And if they were lucky, perhaps they didn’t make it out of his grasp. Perhaps he would bend them so irreparably, they’d just snap, mouth frozen, eyes all distant and still wet with unfallen tears.

She looked up to the empty spot where Mink used to occupy the space. Her bed made, and untouched for days since the couples were put together.

“I might as well try and have some fun out of it. Besides, Tchemy isn’t bad looking”.

Mink had said as she threw the few belongings she had into the spare blanket, wrapping them up to carry them easily.

She’d remembered being sat where she is now, listening to Mink talk about it like it was the most normal thing in the world. To tell the truth, it made her feel a bit sick.

Mink was leaving her, to join Tchemy in his cell.

Leaving her all alone. Without the female company she craved acting as some kind of protection.

But then again, she doubted that would have swayed Ettore one bit.

From her spot, she could hear Tchemy’s bed rattle against the wall, rhythmically, and the soft pants of hurried breaths punctuated through each little pat. She imagined Mink, pressing her lips together, trying to contain just how much she enjoyed it, wrapping her legs around the man who rutted into her from above, wordlessly asking for more.

She’d heard Mink moan his name, and it made her feel even worse.

As far as she knew, Boyse and Monte remained apart, completely upset with each other at the situation they’d been forced into.

Though Boyse liked Monte to an extent, as far as she could tell, it was a platonic sort of romance. Intrigue, perhaps more than anything. But nothing overtly sexual seemed to radiate off either of them.

She thought with a sense of dread, that if the situation had been different.

If Ettore hadn’t been Ettore.

That he ‘wouldn’t be bad looking’ either.

But he is Ettore.

And he was everything she ever feared he would be. But had yet to show his full, true, unwavering potential.

In the days that followed the announcement, and she didn’t entirely know how, she’d managed to steer clear of him. Avoiding him as if knowing his whereabouts before he even knew them himself.

The cell without Mink there felt shockingly empty, too quiet. And Dibs, as a sort of reward for participating in the fertility experiments, allowed the women involved to sleep unhindered. Yet, when she slept, she rubbed her wrists, as if she still felt tied down by them.

In a strange way she missed them. It represented a freedom before this.

But now if he did come in the night, which he didn’t, she would have been able to fight back.

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t bother.

It was too easy now.

Brutally, she almost wished he’d just do it, and get it over with. So that she didn’t have to suffer in anticipation.

It was late in the artificial evening by the time she and Boyse were almost finished with their shared duty for the day, prepping the kitchen for tomorrow’s breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was an arduous task, one that easily broke a sweat in both of them, but a nice distraction the hell the women shared with one another.

“Mink is enjoying it at least,” Boyse muttered.

She only hummed in response, while she busied herself stacking away the various pots and pans. Disinterested in the subject already, as if it had not been plaguing her mind everyday since.

“Monte and I tried last night”, Boyse confessed suddenly, her eyes looking very much like a scared girl. She was young. And it was only evident when she was afraid, just how tiny she was.

Boyse shrugged, “It’s not so bad…” she murmurs, unconvincingly, “...he’s nice about it”.

She struggles to see what the point of the conversation is.

Boyse starts, “Maybe with-”

“That maybe with Ettore it will be all cute, romantic and lovely?” she interrupts, her voice firm, “Have you been that blind to who he is this whole time? I know you’re not that stupid”.

The other woman has nothing to say to that.

And the silence stretches uncomfortably.

“It’ll happen eventually, you know…” Boyse remarks.

But she can only give a small, exhausted huff. Knowing that she was completely right.

If by the time their first examination came around, Dibs found out there was no sexual intercourse, it wouldn't take long for her to force them into a room together, and throw away the key.

She never imagined herself a mother.

Why would she, when she can hardly atone for her own actions?

What if they all got pregnant?

What would become of this floating prison then?

She'd told Boyse to go off early while she finished up labelling the portions for tomorrow's dinner.

But really, she just wanted some time to herself, and perhaps a nightly visit to the Box to tie things off.

The canteen was dark, a blue, unnatural light stretching across the linoleum floor, making the ship feel colder than it actually was.

She wondered where he might be right now. He was more often than not on maintenance, on the other side of the ship.

Far away.

But it was late. He was probably finished by now.

The hallways were darkened and empty as she made her way down the metal ladder towards the Box. Thinking about what she might do later tonight.

Maybe finish one of those books?

Maybe go out to the deck and watch the stars and planets disappear into the blackness of space?

Sometimes it calmed her.

Down where the Box was, there were no windows. A sense of privacy.

She was about to reach for the touch-activated button when-

Darkness.

Utter and complete nothingness.

So dark she could not even see her hand before her own face.

'Temporary electrical failure. Emergency oxygen has been activated. Please wait while power is restored'.

Harsh blue lights flashed for a second, illuminating the hallway for a brief moment, a loud, searing alarm accompanying it. Her eyes hurt from the intensity of it.

"Fucking piece of shit ship.." she murmured, using the brief light of the alarms to navigate her way through to the control panel in the maintenance cupboard.

She huffed with annoyance, that there was no emergency torch inside the maintenance cupboard to light her view. The flashing blue light would have to do.

She could barely think with the incessant booming noise.

And it all seemed to go quiet, her face going all pale.

The wires connecting the electrics to the mains, were missing. Deliberately.

Dread pooled in her stomach. And the resonant ringing of alarms were pulled back up to her ears, setting every nerve on edge, fear prickling the little hairs at the back of her neck.

Her breath felt hot in her chest, difficult to push up her throat.

She shuffled back, her back meeting the wall of the hallway in a state of shock. Every now and then her vision going black when the blue lights went down, now feeling significantly longer than a simple second.

Like a rabbit in the deep, dark bushes of a forest, her head whipped at the sound of movement over the intense alarming environment.

It took a moment to really see, as the lights made it feel almost nightmare-like. Sucking his figure into darkness to illuminate him again in his dark red prison garb. His light blue, but darkened eyes staring at her from under his brow.

His expression was stoic, fading into darkness. She expected him to approach slowly between periods of nothingness, like those horror movies she always used to watch on Earth.

But this was very real.

A very real horror in the form of a man.

Ettore dropped the wires onto the floor, his form looking significantly smaller on the other side of the hallway, mercifully far away.

Instinctually, she felt for the shape of the scalpel in her pocket, her senses set alight to find it wasn't there.

It was difficult to see the smug look on his face.

"Look at you. All soft and pretty, waiting for me to have my way with you. With that dumb look on your face".

She swallowed over the lump that formed, fear overtaking everything else, her legs primed to run.

"It would be a shame, if I took what I wanted without asking".

A shame.

But he would do it anyway.

She thought, if he was a true predator, he'd be able to hear her breath, feel the thrum of her beating, female heart, as if it were in the palm of his hand, squeezing savagely.

"Don't you think?"

She waited for it to go black before she broke into a run, hoping to at least make it to the deck, where she knew there'd be more chance of escape to the safety of her cell.

But did it really matter?

Navigating the hallways, though mostly straight and clear, was still difficult with the flashing of blue light and then inconceivable blackness.

The floors of the hallway or the bed of her cell?

Choose your poison, it's still killing you nonetheless.

And every time she shifted one leg before the other, she heard him running after her.

Getting closer.

He was much faster. Taller. With wider strides.

She crossed the deck, beneath the skylight, her laboured breathing burning-

Pain.

Blood?

She felt him tug at her hair, wrenching her head back first and then straight into the metal doorframe.

Was her vision fading? Or were those the lights?

Everything felt so blurry.

Was he talking?

The floor was cold against her face. The blood in her hairline where the fresh cut has sliced into her skin sliding warmly down the side of her face.

Her head throbbed.

Where am I?

A large hand pulled at her shoulder, turning her over onto her back. And she felt warmth on her legs where his broad body was straddling her, his head partially blocking off the cosmic light emitted from the skylight, making the blonde wisps of his hair light up in a half-halo.

For a moment everything was quiet.

She blinked slowly. Before fear and panic gripped at her senses, flinging her headlong into fight or flight.

She felt pitiful, pushing against his chest with all that remained of her strength, a small voice saying, "Get the fuck off me!"

Watching his face split into a grin in horror, Ettore took her wrists easily and twisted, loving the pained grunt she gave him in return as he slammed them to the floor, "You wanna be rough? Fine, let's do it properly then, shall we?"

Her vision spun violently when his fist cracked against her jaw once, sending her face flying to one side.

This time, she was sure she blacked out for a second.

Blood in her mouth, coating her teeth.

It was so cold.

Using her moment of vulnerability, Ettore huffed animalistically, out of breath from running, as he tore at the front of her shirt, splitting it in two and exposing her breasts. He took a handful of one and pinched spitefully at the flesh. The motion jolted her, and she moved her legs and hips in an attempt to get him off her.

"You made me do this" he uttered darkly, "you know I can't control myself".

No I don't. She thought with panic.

"You were asking for it".

No I wasn't. She thought with fear.

I never asked for this.

Consciousness rose in waves to the surface, strength slowly gaining. And she pushed her legs against him, her hips, anything to get him off her. She writhed beneath him, her lips etched into a frown as she tried to break free.

"Don't make me hurt you".

His words had no effect.

It felt like life or death.

She ripped one wrist free and slapped him harshly across the face, her nail dragging along his cheek, watching with tired pride as he grimaced.

Before his face set into a scowl again.

"Stupid worthless cunt", he punctuated it with a slap of his own, in the same spot he'd punched her previously. Nausea rolled in her gut at the pain, her eyes near rolling back as she struggled to keep herself afloat and conscious.

She felt hands all over her.

Under her ripped shirt, kneading her breasts in his calloused palms.

His knee anchoring her legs down as one hand ripped at her sweatpants to tear them off with a grunt.

Vomit bubbled at the back of her throat when she felt her core exposed to the chill of the air, and how he simply looked at it, growling like an animal.

"No…" was all she found the courage to say, "Stop…"

Her mouth felt so dry.

Ettore chuckled, "Stop?", he mocked, "you should be grateful I'm even doing this".

Grateful?

Her bleary, dazed eyes rolled around before landing on him. Watching as he knelt, looking down at her, pulling his sweatpants over his hips just enough to free his length.

He was aroused at the thought of hurting her.

One hand was wet with saliva, rubbing the artificial slickness over his length as the other pushed meanly against her folds, dryly prying them apart, introducing a searing, uncomfortable pain.

She felt blood in her eyebrow as she furrowed them both in anguish, trying to push herself on her back away from him as he touched her without care.

He huffed in annoyance when he found she wasn't wet in the slightest, as if he had expected her to be.

She fought the urge to gag when she saw him lean over and spit on her core, using the hand that was already there to smear his saliva over her.

The waves of pain tugged her lower.

So much so she could barely hear his voice.

Come on. Get up.

She tried, she really did.

Get up and fight him.

Writhing weakly beneath him, "Get…off…" she said firmly, through the wavering tones of agony.

She felt real, real fear when he leaned over her like a big, broad shadow, and pressed his palm against her neck, his fingers tightening against her flesh with the veins flexing.

"Shut the fuck up and take it".

Her lips parted to gather air.

Air that wouldn't pass into her lungs.

I'm going to die.

She gasped and swallowed for oxygen, tears covering her eyes as she felt his knee prop her limp legs apart.

"This is what happens to women who don't know their fucking place" he hissed in her face meanly.

She felt she truly wanted to die, when she felt the head of his cock part her folds and push into her dryly, brutally. Her walls tight, trying to push him out. He only let out a sigh, warm against her face. Too soft for the horrendous crime he was committing on her body.

If his hand hadn't been clamped on her throat, she would've screamed.

His face showed no pleasure in the intermittent blue light of the alarms. And it was only here she realised they were still sounding, as her consciousness was constantly being ripped from her.

She winced in torment, as he reached the end of her, splitting her open painfully on his length. His body was against hers, holding her down, pushed to the hilt inside of her and tearing up her insides, causing the faintest bit of blood to wet his length inside of her.

The air was getting thin in her head.

Just kill me.

Just a little more, and I will be dead.

But instinctually, as he let go to sit back on his haunches, her body took a deep breath in, filling her lungs again. Her throat, sore and battered, felt like fire as she coughed weakly.

No.

A tear was stinging her cheek where he'd punched her, now blooming with an early bruise.

It was only now he looked like he was enjoying himself. His cock dragging ruthlessly in and out of her, igniting the pain in a new place. He fucked into her quickly and without care of her mewls of pain, bullying the end of her like he wanted to impale her.

Like he wanted to kill her.

She watched his face briefly light up with blue as he looked down to where he'd split her open, her sex still trying to reject his assault with every harsh smack inside.

Realising her own body was denying him, he pressed harder against her, only to smirk at hearing her heightening volume of protests.

She felt as if every hard and dry journey inside of her, that he was taking a little bit of her away with him. Felt her heart breaking with little shards peeling off.

Fire licked between her legs, up her spine, fuelling the burning migraine.

"You like that, don't you? Bet you've been waiting for me - oh fuck -" his moans were staggered, " - nothing but a fucking piece of meat - my little fuck toy -"

He laughed when she winced with her voice and body at the hard thrust he gave at the punctuation.

"Stop…" she pleaded weakly, though she was confident he wouldn't listen, "...hurts…"

He leaned forward, his palm pressed harshly against her abdomen, to feel himself rutting inside her, forcing her walls open around his length.

He grinned widely.

"Stop? Hurts?" he mocked in a high tone, "Yeah, I can feel your blood soaking my cock".

She could've sobbed, if her throat weren't so sore.

Her head lolled back, thudding against the linoleum with every shift of his hips driving his cock into her. She felt tears coat her vision, darkness creeping in.

His hands clamoured at her. Hips. Breasts. Neck.

But she didn't feel it anymore.

There was a numbness.

Instead, she stared up at the skylight, above where Ettore's head rhythmically moved with pleasure. His chiselled features illuminated every now and then when he tipped his head back and moaned loudly over the sound of sirens. The tattoo on his neck stretched and rippled like a puzzle.

The universe watched back.

The universe. The blackness. The void. Watched her assault.

And she thought with pain, that she wanted to be out there. Floating around mindlessly. With no air in her lungs to breathe. No effort.

She could put herself out of the airlock if she wanted to.

It was tempting.

She watched the stars and planets fold in on themselves while her body and breasts jolted with Ettore's assault. He didn't even try to touch her in a way that would bring any pleasure. He didn't care.

All he saw was a hole that needed to be filled.

He tapped her cheek. And then grabbed her face harshly. His fingers smeared the blood over her face.

"Come on now, stay with me" he cooed falsely, "I want you to feel it".

But she didn't move.

Not a single inch.

She thought of Earth.

The vast fields in her hometown.

Her family.

Going out on a Friday night to the pub with her friends.

Was today Friday?

Is that what they were doing right now?

Were they stood outside the pub, passing a cigarette around, drunkenly laughing and pink in the face from the chill of the breeze.

Did they think of her?

His thrusts began to increase in both strength and speed as he neared his end. Her eyes planted on the skylight still.

Did they even remember her?

I'm right here.

Help me.

She fought the urge to gag as he used her hips to pull her onto him repeatedly, his breath quickening in the telltale way.

He pushed himself as far inside her as he could go, fucking sloppily into her as blood streaked his length.

And with a long, loud grunt, he stilled and went all rigid.

And the warmth at the end of her made her want to die right there.

The blood in her eyebrow had now begun to slide down her face, her head throbbing still. Pupils shaking.

Ettore's eyes were screwed shut, looking more so in pain than pleasure as he emptied himself inside her. Thrusting shallowly with a loud squelch, pushing his cum deep, moulding her insides to the shape of him. Prolonging his selfish pleasure.

You could beat me to death. So just do it.

Kill me so I don't have to feel like this.

She couldn't help the little sound she let out when he pulled out of her. Though he was now only half hard, the feeling of his cock reigniting the pain through her sensitive walls had her arch her back to get away from him.

For a long moment, he simply looked at her. Every now and then to his hands, the tips of his fingers painted with blood. His blue eyes flitting from her brutalised core, to her face, which showed nothing.

There was nothing.

Did I deserve this?

She felt only a dull sense of shame as his cum leaked out of her. And the thought of one day being pregnant, perhaps as a result of this, felt devastating.

She thought, she wanted to make him feel every inch of what she'd felt.

There was something inside missing now.

As if with every thrust, he had pushed something out of her, to make room for him. And those bits she'd lost, she could never get back.

All she could hear was her breath, weak and shuddered.

It wasn't clear exactly when Ettore stood up to leave.

But after pulling himself from her, he didn't touch her.

There was only the artificial warmth of the cosmos to warm her cold, numb body. Looking down at the ripped and torn human shaped entity that was once a living, breathing woman.

'But who can remember pain, once it's over? All that remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see'.

Maybe that book was right.

The alarms stopped, and darkness descended once again.

She felt the blood and cum on her inner thighs begin to dry.

How long have I been here?

Her clothes were falling off her as she crawled over to the doorway, using the frame to pull herself onto her shaky feet, a deep, stabbing pain thrumming through her core.

A trail of blood was all she left behind on the floor.

Unlike his other victims, he couldn't just kill her to get her to shut up. Or do it so she'd be out the way, and wouldn't tell anyone.

She was stuck here, with him, to face the truth of his actions.

Perhaps that's why he'd been so quiet after. That realisation that she was a dangerous person as well when prodded.

Her body ached as she reached the haven of the showers, wanting all proof and memory of his touch off her sooner rather than later.

It was a challenge removing her clothes, her joints rolling uncomfortably from the hardness of the floor against her back.

Even the warm flow of water onto her naked skin couldn't cleanse her of what she felt. The bruises around her neck, her hips, her back and the torn apart agony she felt inside her, wouldn't subside quickly.

No tears.

No crying.

There was just nothing.

Hair damp around her shoulders, and new clothes freshly sticking to her tacky skin, she took calculated steps through the hall, the blue light setting dread in her stomach.

She clutched the knife in her hand like she was born to it, moulded to her skin, and as if she wanted to put all the suffering she'd felt into keeping it close to her.

Ettore slept on his back, chest rising and falling steadily with sleep. Half of his naked torso covered by the sheets.

The first thought she had was, how can he sleep?

Does he not know how he has changed me?

What he's created.

She thought, that he was like a child, taking what he wanted without bothering or even thinking about the repercussions. Snatching the sense of autonomy from the women he came across as easy as swiping the possessions from someone's pocket.

That he must have been either broken to the point of emptiness or simply evil.

But now, broken by him, inside and out, she could not find it in herself to have a slither of empathy for him, warranted or not.

He deserved this.

The blade twisted in her fingers, her eyes roaming him wondering where would be best to kill him the quickest.

An artery somewhere.

Bleed out.

She didn't flinch as his blue eyes opened softly, looking right at her, sensing another heartbeat in the room with him.

Look at me.

Look at what you have made.

He blinked down at the knife, and then back up to her.

And had the indecency to smirk.

Quotes: The Handmaid’s Tale & We are All the Same in the Dark

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Ettore Taglist (1): @bellaisasleep | @iamavailablesstuff | @the-common-cowgirl | @theroyaldixon

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part Three)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Mild Smut

Words: 5,456

Summary:

This plays after Grace’s death but before Tommy becomes a politician. Lizzie is pregnant with Tommy’s child, so it is somewhere around season four.

In this fic, Tommy suffers from episodes of PTSD and so does the reader, resulting from trauma and abuse. They will help and save each other without realising that their connection is much stronger than they could have anticipated.

There will be love, fluff and smut as well as a highly taboo relationship.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

QUESTION: WHO IS TOMMY TO THE READER? WHOOPS!

One week later….

It had taken you some time to work it out. To get your feelings and emotions sorted. To understand yourself and realise what was happening. You were falling in love with a man you barely knew but who made you feel things you never felt before.

You shared a kiss with him. It was your first ever kiss and, much to your surprise, it felt incredible and was indescribable. It was filled with passion, lust and need and you knew that, never before had you felt what you were feeling now. You felt safe, loved and desired.

Any kind of touch from a man before you had associated with something bad, something harmful. You had never been told otherwise as, all you had ever known was exactly that. Harm, pain and suffering, all of which came from physical contact made by one man.

Your stepfather had hit you, groped you and restrained you on many occasions in the past and, whilst he never forced himself on you in a sexual way, there was one occasion where he tried. He got no further than kissing your neck when your mother walked in on you both and you were appalled by men ever since.

But for some reason, with Tommy, it was different. You were not appalled by him in the slightest and often thought about what some of the prostitutes had said about their customers at Madam Juan. Yes, a lot of them enjoyed sex, at least occasionally. You even watched, once or twice but, again, you felt nothing but disgust.

Some of the girls at the brothel had told you a lot about their work and, whilst some clients had hurt them in the past, these women told you that the majority of men were respectful towards them and, with some of them, being intimate was even pleasurable at times.

Pleasure? This was a feeling you never quite understood until now. One of the prostitutes had explained it to you once or twice but, until now, you never felt anything even remotely close to what one might refer to as pleasure. This tingling sensation in your core was what you heard women tell you about when they wanted to have sex with a man and, until now, this all sounded absurd to you. Until now, the sheer thought of sex made you feel ill and disgusted. But now, you knew what it was about. You felt it yourself for a very short moment just as Tommy was kissing you and, whilst it scared you, you couldn’t help but wanting more.

You wanted more of this sensation. This ache. This need. For him. A man you knew almost nothing about.

***

But, over the past week, while working at Shelby Company Limited, you interacted more and more with your new employer and, whilst he acted more reserved towards you when being around other employees as well, you found that you had a lot in common, shared interests and common standards.

Just like you, Tommy loved horses and he took a liking in music and, as the days went by, you became closer and spent even more time together. He told you about his late wife Grace and his son Charlie. He also told you about Lizzie and the fact that she was pregnant with his daughter.

You kissed, occasionally and secretively but these kisses were nothing like your first. He was reserved and this was probably due to the fact that he knew that you were uncomfortable with the concept of physical affection and intimacy. He knew that he needed to be patient with you and give you some time to figure out how far you wanted to go with him.

If you were anyone else, he would have made his move already but, since he liked you in the same way that he liked Grace, he paid much more attention to your needs.

It was obvious to Tommy that you had been hurt before in a serious way and it was also obvious to him who the cause of your pain was. You did not need to spell it out for him. He simply knew and his intuition was right. His investigations had confirmed it and, unbeknownst to you, with the information you had given him over the past week, he was closer and closer to finally finding for the man behind it all. Your stepfather.

But, the problem was that, in Tommy’s mind, this was not just about money for him anymore. It was about vengeance and helping you heal as, the more he was falling for you, the more he was also starting to hate the man who had, until a few years ago, controlled your life.

***

Until now, only Michael knew about Tommy’s motives for employing you and, whilst Polly had her suspicions about Tommy’s feelings towards you, she could not be certain of his intentions until, one morning, she spoke to her son.

“So, who is this woman your cousin has employed without any experience whatsoever?” Polly asked Michael after having kept a close eye on you for the past week. She did not trust you, although she did not exactly dislike you either. “She is not a whore and she is clearly not a spy” she then pointed out with little concern but, when Michael told her who you were related to, Polly’s chin dropped.

“Ah, fuck” she then said before telling Michael that Arthur may be taking a dislike in the fact that Tommy had employed you without running it by him first.

“I am sure Arthur no longer cares mum. Her mother is a woman who never quite took an interest in him” Michael pointed out, having heard the stories from Tommy.

“Well, you see Michael, I am not so sure. Y/N’s mother was Arthur’s first true love and I fear that, if he knows that Y/N is her daughter, he may seek to reconnect with her even in spite of the fact that, just over twenty years ago, she went off with another man who I assume is Y/N’s father” Polly explained calmly before asking a question of relevance to her and possibly even the company.

“Has Tommy taken an emotional or sexual interest in her you think?” she wanted to now, causing Michael to chuckle.

“Yes, I would say that he has. He likes her” Michael admitted and Polly sighed deeply.

“That is what I thought. He looks at her in the same way as he used to look at Grace” Polly pointed out but Michael didn’t consider this to be an issue.

“And why is that a problem? Arthur was in love with her mother, not her” he thus pointed out.

“It is a problem because, when Tommy is in love, he becomes weak and weakness is not something we can afford right now. So, keep an eye on him when I am gone. I will be in the US for two weeks and I need you to make sure that Tommy focuses on business, not her” Polly then pointed out to her son, seeing that Shelby Company Limited had just signed several export deals in the past two months, all of which Tommy had to oversee.

“Also, where the fuck is Lizzie? I haven’t seen her all week and the paperwork is piling up. Y/N can’t do it…” Polly finally went on to say and Michael reminded her that Tommy had given her a week off following yet another fight between them

“A fight about what?” Polly then wanted to know and Michael simply pointed towards you, causing his mother to roll her eyes. It was obvious to her that Lizzie had taken an issue with your presence at Shelby Company Limited and when, later that afternoon, Lizzie barged through the door in anger, the entire office was made aware of the fact that there was some competition going on.

***

“What the fuck is she still doing here?” Lizzie immediately asked Michael with a stern voice but Michael simply shrug his shoulders in an almost futile attempt to ignore her. He turned around, minded his own business and, just as he did, Tommy popped his head through the door of his office.

He knew that he needed to put an end to it, but did not quite know how.

“Lizzie, a word…” he said, asking her to come into his office just as you were about to stand up and do the same.

“What did the doctor say?” he then asked reluctantly while lightening himself a cigarette. Lizzie has had some complications she claimed and Tommy urged her to get checked out even though he believed that it was simply the result of the last fight they had which happened to be about you.

“Everything is fine with the baby. It must have been the stress which caused the contractions prematurely” Lizzie pointed before reaching for one of Tommy’s hands and placing it onto her stomach.

“I have felt a kick today. The very first one” she told him just before Tommy withdrew his hand from her growing bump.

“There is nothing to be stressed about Lizzie” he told her but Lizzie disagreed.

“Thomas…” she said sternly before carrying on. ”I am having a child, on my own, because the man who got me pregnant does not want to be with me. That is fucking stressful” Lizzie then told him, causing Tommy to sigh/

“Lizzie! I gave you options and I bought you a fucking house, didn’t I? Eh? What else do you want?” he asked angrily while Lizzie broke out in tears.

“I don’t want a fucking house Tommy! I want a husband and a father for my child” Lizzie spat before tears tumbled down her face.

“We fucking talked about this…” Tommy said sternly while trying to reach for her hands with one of his and, before he could finish his sentence, Lizzie interrupted him.

“We did and you said that you would be there for us after Ruby is born” Lizzie reminded him, causing Tommy to nod.

“And I will keep my promise to you. I will care for you and I will care for our daughter” Tommy said before telling her once again that he does not and will not love her. “I told you how I feel Lizzie. I told you many times” he reminded her but she did not want to hear it.

“You did, but you also need to be mindful of the upcoming elections” Lizzie then reminded him, seeing that it would not look good for him to have a child outside of marriage, especially not with her, a woman who was known to have worked as a prostitute for many years.  

“And I am fucking mindful, eh. You do not need to remind me” Tommy then spat in response to Lizzie’s suggestion. He knew what was expected of him. Polly had told him many times over, suggesting for him to marry the mother of his unborn child in order to preserve his seemingly perfect image.

“Then what is this whore still doing here Tommy?” Lizzie then asked, angering Tommy even more.

“Careful Lizzie” he cautioned her while withdrawing his hands from hers and reaching for his glass of whiskey instead.

“You are so fucking weak Thomas” Lizzie spat whereas, the truth was, that she knew that he was simply falling in love with you and this worried her. “You employ her and she can’t even fucking read” Lizzie went on to say while, unbeknownst to her, you could hear everything. You were right outside, listening to their argument. “So what the fuck is she doing here? Are you fucking her?” Lizzie then finally asked as, clearly, Tommy was lost for words.

“Enough!” he told her, not wanting to hear anymore nonsense but Lizzie would not let it go.

“Just tell me Thomas. Did you fuck her?” she thus spat again, causing Tommy to shake his head.

“No Lizzie. I did not fuck her, but even if I did, it would be none of your business, eh” he told her. “She is good with numbers, so she is looking after some of the books” he then went on to say just as Lizzie stormed out of the door, running into you, which is also when Tommy realised that you must have heard everything that Lizzie had said to him.

“So she can count, but she can’t fucking read. Isn’t that funny” was the last thing Lizzie said before running into you purposely and then telling you off for standing in her way.

***

Just as Lizzie disappeared, leaving a pleasant scent of perfume behind, you approached Tommy’s desk and placed a bunch of documents on top of the cold cedar.

“Todays’ mail” you said while looking at him with some sadness in your eyes. What Lizzie had said to him about you was hurtful and, even though you knew that you probably should not care, you did.

“Thank you” Tommy said before asking you to sit down but you declined the offer, using work as an excuse which, surprisingly, Tommy did not argue about.

He allowed you to have some space while offering you the opportunity to talk to him about anything that may be on your mind but, what was on your mind was nothing you wanted to discuss.

The truth was that, in light of Lizzie’s comments and remarks, you felt somewhat unworthy. You felt as though you were not good or smart enough and did not quite understand why a man like Thomas Shelby would take an interest in you. You were a petty thief, who could neither read nor write.

You felt as though you were always overlooked; always the second choice – just an option, never a priority, yet it seemed like you had always been watched, judged and compared. You were never good enough at or for anything and there was always someone waiting to let you know what you did wrong and what you could have done better. You were never the best and, no matter what, someone always found a fault in you or your actions and this phenomenon of dislike from another woman was nothing new to you.

But what about Tommy then? Why was he so interested in you? He could have had any woman in the whole of Birmingham but, for some reason, he wanted you.

Was this a game for him? Did it mean anything? You did not know and, at least for now, you did not want to think about it. You simply wanted to better yourself and learn what you needed to learn in order to do well at your first legitimate job. This was your priority and you knew anything else was not as important as your ability to survive comfortably in world as harsh as this.

***

With that in mind, you left the offices of Shelby Company Limited in hurry that night. It was the first day since you started working for Thomas Shelby that you left you on time and without saying goodbye to him, which certainly did not go unnoticed, causing Tommy to follow you.

That night, you went home to your lodging in order to learn how to write and read. You tried to teach yourself these skills after spending your first weeks of wages on utensils, including a book, a pen and some paper.

Unfortunately for you though, learning how to write and read without any help was a terrible idea and you became rather frustrated with yourself as, even your best efforts, were not quite good enough.

You were not getting anywhere with this and unbeknownst to you, you were being watched just as you threw the book and paper into the far corner of the room before curling up on your bed.

You were upset that you could not do better than that and, in the end, you cried yourself to sleep that night. It was too much for you to handle, the pressure of real employment in which you felt as though you were failing.

***

The following morning however, you put on a brave face once again, applied some make up and picked out an outfit you had not worn before. It consisted of a loosely fitting top, tied together with silk and a pencil skirt, matched with a black pair of short heels.  

As usual, you walked to work and, as you did, you covered your arms with a long coat, hiding away your scars and the tattoo covering some of them even in spite of Tommy having told you not to bother. According to him, there was no need for you to cover your arms other than with some nice jewellery perhaps. That was, of course, if you liked jewellery he said which, in itself, was a comment that amused you.

Of course you liked jewellery but, every time you stole something nice, you had to sell it again in order to pay your bills and purchase food. Thus, you had no jewellery. Not even a pair of earrings.  

Minutes later, at around 8 o’clock

“Where is Tommy?” you asked as you walked into the office but, according to Finn, his youngest brother, he had some business to attend to in London that day.

“He won’t be back today” Finn said and you were almost a little disappointed by that since you dressed up so nicely simply to impress him.

Of course, you could not compete with his expensive suits and his shiny watch, but Tommy always complimented you on your style and that, too, you appreciated.

Most of your clothes were stolen which, of course, he knew so, once, he even offered you some money to buy yourself something nice instead of stealing it, but this was on offer you declined.

You wanted to earn your money through an honest day of labour you said and this is when you found out about Tommy’s intention to become an MP for the Labour Part. This, you thought, was ironic considering that he owned the majority of businesses in the area. He was a capitalist, but people believed him nonetheless when he spoke about socialist values in his campaign. He was smart and convincing. People loved him because he went to France, then built up his empire from scratch before giving employment to the poor. Thomas Shelby was too smart for most and this is why he probably should not be with you. You could not compete with his intellect, although you did a good job laundering his money even with the limited writing and reading skills you had.

Later that day, at around 5 o’clock

Then, just as you were pondering on about Tommy and his hidden skills again, you heard his familiar voice behind you, startling you which, too, was talent of his.

“Get your coat Love” he said just as he zoomed by with a cigarette in his mouth.

“Why?” you asked surprised. It was already 5 o’clock and you were about ready to finish up for the day.

“I am taking you somewhere. Come on” Tommy then said with a smile and, just for a moment, you got lost in his deep blue eyes.

“Where are you taking me Mr Shelby?” you asked cheekily as he reached for your hand and dragged you to his car which was a dark grey Bentley.

“You will see” Tommy said and, right after he had helped you into your seat just like a gentleman would, he sat down in the driver’s seat and drove off to a destination unknown.

As you were driving though, you kept on nagging him, wanting to know where he was taking you and, after a while, he gave in.

“To the state library” he said and you pointed out to him that the state library in Birmingham closes at 5 o’clock. It was now almost half past five and there was no way you could still get in there.

“My sister works at the library and I have asked her for the key. She said that I could borrow it, provided that I do not steal anything so, needless to say, the same goes for you, eh” Tommy chuckled and you simply rolled your eyes, thinking that he was trying to insult you.

“You know that I cannot read, so what would I steal, huh? A book?” you asked and Tommy smiled at you once again.

“I know that you cannot Love, but you have been trying to learn, eh?” Tommy then said while gently placing his hand on to yours while you nodded out a quiet and reluctant “yes”.

“I watched you last night as you were trying to read the paper you took from the gambling den” Tommy then admitted as if there was nothing wrong with that but you immediately told him to stop the car and let you out.

“Why?” Tommy asked while pulling over nonetheless. He was confused as to why you were so upset.

“Because you have been spying on me. That is not acceptable Tommy” you spat as soon as the car came to a standstill and Tommy shook his head gently before, slowly, caressing your face.

“I was coming to check on you Love. I was worried about you after what Lizzie had said that day, but…” he said gently but you interrupted him.

“But what?” you asked angrily. “You cannot invade my privacy like that” you then pointed out, causing Tommy to nod.

“I am sorry Love. I was wrong” he admitted in the most tender tone you had ever heard from him and hearing such an admission of wrongdoing from a man like Thomas Shelby was somewhat surprising.

“Just let me help you, eh?” Tommy then said, seeing that you had calmed down and, again, you nodded.

“Why do you do this for me Tommy?” you asked, smitten and he smiled once more.

“I thought that was obvious” he then said before giving you a gentle kiss on the lips. “I like you” he told you before turning away again and putting the vehicle into gear while you were left with an abundance of little butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

Twenty minutes later…

Twenty minutes later and you finally arrived at the state library on the outskirts of Birmingham and, whilst you did not want to admit it to Tommy, this was your very first time in a place like this.

Books among books covered the walls of the library, climbing the two-story-tall to the ceiling. The library was so big that a tree could have easily grown in the middle of it and everything looked like you were in a fairy tale.

The light was dim as it had already started to get dark outside and the fact that you were there, on your own, with Tommy, made this experience so much better.

Having met Ada Shelby on numerous occasions throughout the past week, you were not surprised that she chose to work in a place like this. Unlike Tommy, Polly and Finn, who were the only ones from the Shelby clan you had met thus far, Ada was rather calm and collected.

She suited a place like this well, a sanctuary away from the harsh world, protecting the people from hatred and welcoming them to a world of peace and knowledge.

And that is exactly how you felt now, here, with Tommy. Protected and at ease. You knew that you did not have to be on guard when he accompanied you. You felt safe for once and he clearly knew that as, more suddenly than usual, he took one of your hands into one of his and guided you through this almost sacred place.

“Come on, let’s find a book to read, eh?” Tommy then said before giving you a choice. “What do you feel like?” he then asked while reading from the map afront the large hallway where each genre was divided into separate sections. “We have books on the revolution, oppression, love, adventure and crime” he finally pointed out and, within a blink of an eye, you chose.

“Love” you said, smiling nervously.

“Love, eh?” he chuckled before reaching for a random book on the shelf and then asking you to follow him. This genre was unfamiliar to him so this book was clearly going to be as good as any.  

“Where are going now?” you then wanted to know as he led the way through the very large library.

“Well, since we are reading about love, perhaps we should sit down somewhere more romantic, eh” Tommy then said. He was clearly teasing you but that did not bother you in the slightest.

“I suppose so. You are quite the romantic, Thomas Shelby” you observed with blushing cheeks but Tommy simply broke out in yet another chuckle.

“I have been called many things before Love, but romantic is not one of them” he teased again before, finally, he found a nice desk beneath a large window through which the street lights were shining in.

He pulled a chair out for you from beneath the desk and lid a few candles so that there was enough light for you to read. When he lid the candles, he used the matches he carried with him before returning them into his black suit jacket which, only moments later, he took off.

“Do you always carry a gun?” you asked, seeing that, on top of his white shirt and vest, he wore a black leather gun holster.

“Yes. I like to be prepared” Tommy admitted and you gave him a shy little nod as he sat down right by your side.

“Now, shall we start?” he then asked and you nodded. You were nervous to say the least. You did not want Tommy to see you in a vulnerable state like this and, just as he touched the top of your hand to guide it across the page, you flinched.

“I am sorry” you told him as, again, he had startled you with his touch which he must have realised was a little to abrupt for your liking.

“It’s alright Love” Tommy said before promising you again that he would not hurt you.

“I know you would not. But these are my reflexes. I did not see it coming” you admitted nervously while, once again, Tommy placed his hand on to yours, this time more slowly than before.

“How about this?” he asked as you watched his fingers make contact with the skin on the top of your hand. “Is this better?” Tommy wanted to know and you nodded.

“Good, I will leave my hand there. Now, try again” he instructed and so you did. You kept on reading the words the best you could and Tommy helped you whenever you needed him to.

He sounded out the letters for you and, whilst you were able to make sense of the shorter syllabus, the longer ones took much more effort.

“Very good” Tommy smiled, encouraging you after every half page you read until, eventually, after an hour or so, you needed a break.  

***

“Well, I must say that I did not expect a book written by a woman to be quite as explicit as this” you told Tommy as, even in chapter one of the novel, there was a lot of intimacy going on between the king and his maid in this story.

“Would you prefer to read something else?” he asked, hoping that none of this was making you feel uncomfortable.

“No. I want to read this and find out what happens between them. Will they find eternal love, you think?” you then asked Tommy, causing him to chuckle. The truth was, that he did not care. The book did not interest him in the slightest but your company did. He loved being with you, even if that meant reading novels like this.

“Most fairy tales have a happy ending these days, so I would presume that they will, indeed, end up together” Tommy thus chuckled in response just before you read some more, with which he helped.

***

“The women at Madam Juan used to talk about things like this sometimes and I enjoyed listening to them” you then observed as, finally, you finished chapter one.

“What things?” Tommy asked before closing the book. He knew that you must have had enough reading for one night and thus was eager to engage in a conversation with you instead. He wanted to learn more about you and, maybe, even get closer towards you again.

“Pleasurable things even amongst all of the terrible encounters they had” you responded while Tommy carefully took your hands into his again.

“Y/N, these women offer sex to men for money and I am sure that, at least on occasion, they feel great pleasure while doing it. It is within human nature to enjoy sex. We are meant to feel pleasure” Tommy then told you reluctantly, seeing that your understanding of intimacy was quite different to his.

“Well, I have never felt comfortable with intimacy and, whilst the notion of sex is intriguing for me, the majority of men I have met in the past scare me” you admitted in response to Tommy’s observation, causing him to make another one.

“That, I have realised” Tommy told you just before you cupped his face gently.

“You don’t scare me though” you then told him and he appeared to be very pleased to hear that.

“You know that the men who inflicted pain upon these women at Madam Juan are not the norm and I have made arrangements for them. Their actions will be dealt with. There will be consequences and, I am sure that, one day, there will also be consequences for your step father” Tommy informed you before making another comment. “Engaging in sex should never be a terrible thing even if it is done for money and trusting another person is an integral part of survival. After France, I lost my trust as well Love. I stopped trusting many people, but I have since learned that there are some people who can be trusted” he said and your face suddenly turned so much redder than before. You were amazed by his attitude and pleased by the way he interacted with you. He was so gentle and yet knowledge.

“Tommy?” you thus asked after giving it some more thought and in spite of the fact that you were way too shy to actually complete your sentence.

“Yes, what is it?” he asked while still holding on to your hands gently.

“Do you think that you could kiss me again? Like the other day?” you then stammered and Tommy smiled before, slowly, leaning in and pressing his lips on to yours for a split second.

“Not like that” you then said, almost chasing his lips with yours as he withdrew them from you. You were disappointed and confused and wondered whether he no longer wanted you.

“No?” Tommy asked and it was obvious to you now that he was just teasing you. “Show me how you want me to kiss you then” he then told you while never letting go of your hands as, this time around, your fingers intertwined with his gently.

You then inhaled sharply and slowly leaned in. You closed your eyes and pressed his lips on to his almost as tentatively as he did just seconds ago.

Your kiss was light at first and, after about twenty seconds or so, you built some more confidence as the moment of passion had overcome your senses.

Overwhelmed with need, you pulled Tommy closer towards you as you were nervously exploring his lips, then parting yours slightly, finally allowing your tongues to meet.

It was at this point that Tommy pushed his tongue slightly into your mouth, taking control. The tips of your tongues were moving together slowly now, and he was savouring the taste of your mouth that he had been longing for.

Your tongues were intertwined for what felt like an hour, but your body was still facing forwards like you were frozen in motion. The movement of your tongues increased as you kissed passionately. Every second was exhilarating, and neither of you want this moment to end.

Eventually, after kissing each other so much that your lips had turned red, you moved both of your hands to Tommy’s face and the light touch on his cheeks gave him the confidence to continue. Thus, he pushed his tongue deeper in to your mouth, pushing and pulling, twisting and turning. Your saliva was mixing within each other's mouths and you gently bit Tommy’s lip causing, eliciting an inadvertent groan from him which, in the end, pushed you over the edge of wanting more.

“Tell me Love, what do you feel when we kiss?” Tommy eventually asked just after he pulled away from you in order to catch his breath. His hands were now caressing your face before gently running down the side of your neck.  

“There is a feeling, a tingling sensation, just like the woman in the book describes it. It feels strange but really fucking good” you explained almost desperately, causing Tommy to smile at you again.

“Does it feel like pleasure?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes. I think it does. It is amazing” you admitted with blushing cheeks just as Tommy placed a strain of hair behind your ear.

“Good. May I kiss you again then?” he asked and you nodded before giving into his onslaught once more but, much to your surprise, his lips did not remain on yours but, instead, slowly moved towards your neck.

“Is this okay Love?” Tommy whispered against your ear while kissing your sensitive skin before gently and teasingly nibbling on it. His lips and teeth were sparking sensations you had never felt before and all you could do was respond with a low whimper.

“Oh god” you moaned as his mouth finally made its way to your cleavage and, when Tommy groaned against your skin, you suddenly moaned loudly.

“You are so fucking perfect” Tommy murmured against your skin as you grabbed hold of his hair, pulling him towards you. Your head was spinning now and, whilst you panicked a little, your mind was consumed with lust and need.

You suddenly wanted to feel his lips everywhere on your body but, just as you whispered the word “more” against his ear, you both heard a loud noise.

“Tommy?” a man said from the far corner of the library and Tommy sighed angrily.

“Fuck” he spat, not wanting to be disturbed but since this was probably important, he quickly pulled away from you and straightened up.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[delia4321]

My Salvation - Muzan K.

She pulled on his tie teasingly, a groan erupting from his throat that was soon followed by a chuckle as she leaned closer.

“Mrs. Kibut-” A maid had burst in, freezing when met with the scene.

A pair of lavender eyes met hers. Cold. Violent. The door quickly was shut before the woman turned back to the man smiling seductively. She leaned closer, lips brushing dangerously close to the man’s lips. She half-liddedly looked at the man the smile still evident on her face. The man’s patience was running thin, she could tell. By the way he let out a quick sigh and how his fingers silently drummed on the arms of the chair. And most of all, how his ruby-red eyes were focusing no longer on her face, but on the item that was in her hand. Yes, that’s just what she wanted. She snapped his attention back towards her with the pull of his tie.

“Eyes on me love.” She whispered, waving the item in her other hand.

The man could only chuckle, “Jealous are we?” His grip tightened on her waist, “Never thought that you were the type to tease.”

“Never thought you were the one to get impatient.” She retorted back her voice laced with venom.

She was as pretty as wisteria, as deadly as it as well.

She was his prize and his poison. 

‘Never did poison taste so good’ He thought.

She traced her fingers along his sharp jawline, observing him like prey. He hadn’t ever been treated like this. He loved it. A challenge of his authority without words. His favorite. Yet, something the woman had in her possession and was not yet his angered him. Only a bit, if he was honest, but he would not ever admit that. And the fact that he had to please her to earn it. Buying her the most expensive items known to mankind, fancying her every whim, staying with her every second of the night. She wasn’t weak. No, he had learned that early on. 

One of his 12 Kizuki, Uppermoon 3 was the first to encounter her. His respect for women had spared him. Uppermoon 2 on the other hand was beaten badly, a near-death experience. Which didn’t pique his interest, until Uppermoon 1 had information about the woman after encountering her. The Blue Spider Lily. The flower he had been searching centuries, millennials for. He had one task left to do: Conquer the sun using the Blue Spider Lily. And the problem was obvious: he had to convince the woman to give it to him. He couldn’t kill her, that was off the table. She wasn’t any ordinary woman, no, no. She was a witch. A powerful one too. Too powerful for his own liking. 

She was as powerful as that swordsman. The one whom he deeply despised. The one who had him hiding until his death was official. She was his number 1 threat and the one who had what he wanted the most. So, they had struck a deal; if either of them fell in love with the other in the 5-month pact, the other would ask whatever they desired from the other. 

It had already been 3 months into the pact, time was running out, and neither of them had yet to fall in love with the other. He would try and make her fancy him by spoiling her, and she would try and make him fancy her with acts of passion. Usually, their personalities would clash against each other’s but it wasn’t a problem for either of them. They both already had their fair share of relationships. And there was no need for urgency for him as the Demon Slayer Corps weren’t to be alerted as she had her own fair share of bad relations with the past heads of the Corps. 

And they learned later that they had more in common with each other when making the pact. For example, they found out that they were similar in age. She was born during the Tang Dynasty in Chang'an, while he was born during the Heian Period in Heian-kyo. She was a witch and he was a demon, a lovely pair don’t you think? 

She had once said that once they perished from the land of the living, she would follow him into the flames of Avici. As it was already obvious from the start, that they were both guilty of every single one of their sins. Vulgarly teasing him that she would “do the acts of passion with him in the burning flames of Avici.”

“Muzan~” She whispered, her lips brushing against his ear.

He could only sigh, both of his hands now gripping her waist tighter, “Be quiet for a moment, woman.”

She complied placing her hands on his shoulders for stability. He rested his head against her chest, closing his eyes, the silence leaving him to his own thoughts.

“Falling for me already Kibutsuji?” She teased once more, an irk mark appearing on his forehead.

“Silence.” He ordered.

She sighed in response, sinking into his lap, staring at his black locks as he was lost in thought. ‘I wonder what he’s thinking.’ She thought.

She then felt her eyes droop, resisting the urge to yawn, she leaned her cheek against her knuckle before closing her eyes as her breathing became slower.

‘Is she already asleep?’ He thought, gazing up to confirm. And in fact, she was asleep. He then let out a sigh of relief as he got off the chair, carrying her sleeping figure to the bed and covering her with the blankets before making his way out. Sunrise was soon to come. He passed by the maid who had interrupted them earlier, leaving her be as she had specifically told him not to kill any of her servants. He walked out of the house, looking at the horizon at the last bits of dusk before dawn hit. And before the first moments of dawn hit, he vanished. For now.

[dreamerwithoutadirection]

Look What You Made Me Do

Min Yoongi was not a man to play, what he desired, he got.

Warning: Yandere, Possessive, Manipulation

P.S: Took longer than expected :( Hope you all like it! Please ignore the typos, I have not proof-read.

“It has been decided that you will get married to Lord Min, at the end of month.” Lord Yoo said to his eldest daughter. 

This was bad, so so bad. Hana was shocked, surprised, scared and worried all at once. 

“I..I..” she stuttered too overwhelmed to speak..

Lord Yoo sighed, he loved his daughter…he knew she wanted to travel and learn. She always had a flair for languages. But he was on the verge of bankruptcy…and his recent losing of his position of Ministry of Defence has already added to his guilt and burden. But what could he do? He needed money and position for his younger daughters and Taxation Minister Lord Min’s offer of money and position in his ministry in exchange of wedding with Hana would change the future of him and his family.  

With hard eyes and heart, Lord Yoo spoke in a firm and final voice, “As the head of this house, I have decided that you are getting married. And that’s final. You are lucky that Lord Min even wants to do something with us after the recent debacle with the King.”

Hana had seen Lord Min before. His cat like eyes with the deep mark across had left her scared when she had first seen him. 

*-------*--------*

Min Yoongi was a man of few words with a mind as sharp as a sword. But perhaps his greatest virtue was patience. And patient was he. It had been an year since he had first seen her in a banquet party held by the King. Mingling among her friends, somehow, she had stood out when their eyes met. She looked scared back then. As if she had just seen a devil. And unknown to her, she had sold her soul as well. 

For an year after the party, he was haunted by her beautiful brown eyes. And tormented by the question of who was she? So, he looked for her. It wasn’t easy as women seldom left the house. So, when the king organised the party once again, Yoongi knew his chance was here. It didn’t take long to know that she was Defence Minister Yoo’s daughter. Power and money can do wonders to know enough about someone. 

“You are really in love with her, hyung?” Yoongi heard Hoseok while sitting with his group of close friends of years. Love? The word felt too measly for what Yoongi was experiencing right now. 

“Maybe..I feel curious definitely” 

“So, you are saying if I went now and talked to her, you wouldn’t mind?” 

Yoongi was on Namjoon in a second, “Don’t try me”, he grunted. 

Seokjin sighed, these kids cannot not fight…even after gaining respectable positions! “Separate at once! You both are now adults and we are in presence of the King, keep your tantrums in check.”

Yoongi glared at Namjoon before returning to his seat. “What I feel about her is not anyone’s concern.”

“But hyung, if you are in love with the lady, that would be so cool! You know her dad is really corrupt…wouldn’t be a problem in taking that old fool down.”

“Hmmm…interesting suggesting Kookie”

Taehyung ruffled Jungkook’s hair to tease him. “Hyaa…I am 24 now, don’t call me that! I have a reputation to maintain!” Jungkook whined. 

“You know, Yoongi, if it’s what I believe it is..I think you need to act fast,” muttered Seokjin. 

“What do you mean, hyung?” frowned Namjoon.

“He’s looking for a match for Lady Hana I have heard..and from what I see..you are just as smitten with her as I am with my wife….if he resists too much…there’s nothing that I cannot manipulate for him to fall in your lap. After all it wouldn’t be hard to pin the recent missing of treasure on him in my investigation.”

   *-------*--------*

“Lord Yoo, how are you?”

“Oh..Lord Min..it’s the same old story of being overburdened with work. Parties like these do give us respite ain’t it?” 

“Hmm..” Yoongi gruffed, eyes searching his bambi. “I heard you are looking for a groom for your eldest daughter.”

“I am indeed, but for my second daughter, Mi-joo, who is of age now…” Lord Yoo said fondly. 

“Lord Yoo, what about your eldest..what’s her name..yes Hana..she’s 22 right now isn’t she? A bit late for marriage?”

“She’s not ready for marriage yet..Min Yoongi” Lord Yoo spoke harshly. 

“Hmm..you know I thought this will be a civil conversation. But I suppose you don’t do civil” Yoongi laughed and then his eyes turned more feline if possible “I will make this clear to you. I like your daughter Hana, and I will be coming to your house this week with my parents with a marriage proposal and you old man are going to say fucking yes.”  

Lord Yoo got up suddenly, spilling the drink on the table and said, “Why would I want a man like you for my beloved daughter? With that scar so big, I doubt, you will find anyone. Don’t test me young man. I can destroy you in second.” 

Poor Lord Yoo did not know what was about to come for him. A fortnight later, he got summoned by the King over the charges of stealing from the national treasures.

Yoongi smirked standing in the King’s court seeing his hyung alledge false charges on Lord Yoo..caught you. I am coming for you, jagi..we’ll be together..soon.

 *-------*--------*

Hana had to talk to Lord Min and convince him otherwise! She cannot marry him..not when he scared the soul out of her. She had felt his eyes all night on her a fortnight ago. And it made her feel sick to the stomach. She knew in her gut he was not a good man..a pretty sight with a devil’s soul. 

And so Hana did, what she does best..she escaped her house and went to find Min Yoongi. It wasn’t difficult to find him..as if he was waiting for her to come out of her den. As she walked in the sombre room at the courtesans place, she saw him sitting with a drink in hand. Looking all so powerful, magnificent and a sinister smile decorating his face. 

“Hana, jagiya...welcome..I was expecting you. After all, you always had a fighting spirit..and you know I love that about you. Always standing up for yourself.”

Jagi? Why was he calling her jagi! He didn’t even know her! “Lord Min..I..have come to talk to your regarding the marriage proposal you have sent.”

“Yes, sure, my love! Don’t worry..our marriage will be an event to behold. I cannot wait to see you dressed for me..prettily..you’ll be finally by my side..like you have always meant to be. But before that come sit, near me..why are you standing so far.”

Hana pressed herself against the door more, if possible. She did not want to go anywhere near him. He was too dangerous. 

“Lord Min. I have come to inform you that I cannot marry you. Please find someone else for your affections, for I don’t return them.”

Yoongi sighed. This will not go as smoothly as he hoped. 

Just as Hana was opening the door to go, she felt herself being turned around. Her back hit the wall harshly, as she looked up to see Lord Min too close to her. He looked so much more terrifying…eyeing her up..with emotions she could not understand. But whatever it was, it was not love..his eyes did not hold love but something dark and vile.

“I was trying to be patient love, but you don’t like patience it seems. So, let me reiterate to you..you..”, he cupped her face..“were mine..since the day I saw you” and then Hana felt his lips on her..all at once everywhere “mine..mine…mine”

Yoongi rasped, “If you don’t want your old man to be dead..be a doll..love and start preparing for our marriage..if you dare go against me..you know your sisters also have to get married, right?”

Hana felt herself crashing down..with Lord Min’s head buried in her neck..kissing her..marking her neck for the world to see. There’s no escaping, is it?

[anashins]

not sure if you take smut request.... but tyong with breeding kink.......pls,, I'm down bad after seeing his gym igstory

Pairing: Taeyong x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff in the end

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: To fulfill your wish to get pregnant with no husband in sight, your friend Taeyong steps in. But he gets way too carried away - by the act and his feelings for you.

A/N: I know exactly what you mean, that video lives in my head rent free 😩 I hope you like it 💗

“So… how do you want it?”

You looked into your friend’s eyes, equally clueless. If there was a position that would guarantee a pregnancy, then you hadn’t read about anything that was science-based - and you had done years of research on this topic.

For example, you knew that the biologically best age for women to get children was between 20 and 30. That was a science-based fact, and it was an ID card based fact that you were nearing the third decade of your young life already - with no man by your side, but the deep desire to raise an own child ever since you had graduated.

“Let’s just take off our clothes first.”

Taeyong did as he had been told, and you followed. You were asking yourself whether you should turn on some music since it was absolutely silent in your bedroom, only the rustling of your clothes that you dropped on the floor generating a noise, but not enough to drive away the awkwardness that had settled between the two of you the moment you had settled on your bed.

When Taeyong was in front of you with no piece of clothing anymore, you could sense the blush that had crept up his cheeks, and his cuteness almost made you chuckle, lifting the mood. But as your eyes fell onto his lap, the urge to laugh stopped in your throat and you swallowed a gasp. He didn’t seem to notice though.

Taeyong was one of your oldest friends, and you only knew him as a very cute, soft-spoken and rather shy guy, spending his time playing video games, working and cooking. Out of all your friends, he had been your best and safest choice. On top of that, he was insanely attractive. Oddly, you wondered whether he even knew that himself.

You motioned backwards and laid yourself onto the mattress, urging him, “Come.” 

It took Taeyong a few breathers to comply, and for a moment, you feared that he might have changed his mind. When you had asked him drunkenly a few weeks ago whether he would be up for something like this and he immediately agreed, you had blamed the alcohol since he could never say no. But here he was, all in for the game.

The warmth of his body covered yours when he settled on top of you, and your eyes met. You saw insecurity reflected in his gaze, and he lowered his head in an attempt to kiss you as though following an instinct, but stopped right before touching your lips. You agreed, this wasn’t part of the plan. 

Kisses were reserved for two lovers. This was merely an arrangement. 

Taeyong propped his elbows against the mattress to the left and right of your head, and you slung your arms around his neck. His skin felt so soft against yours, and you caught yourself not shivering anymore due to his inner heat. You had often had body contact as friends, but none as intimate as this. 

“Spread your legs,” he suddenly said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

But he didn’t wait for you. With the help of his own knees, he pried your thighs open to a wideness good enough for him, and you didn’t know what caused this sudden horniness, his this bold move alone made you so wet already, he wouldn’t need much effort pushing in.

You hadn’t been with a man in so long, you had totally forgotten what it felt like to be entirely filled out by one, but Taeyong knocked your memory right back in in a way you had never experienced before. Only him entering you in a deliberate manner turned you on so much, you couldn’t hold back a long moan.

“Everything okay?” he asked when he was fully sheathed inside of you. “If you don’t like something, just tell me.”

You shook your head. “Everything is fine. Everything is so good.”

The latter part of your answer let a cocky smile grow on his lips that you only spied when he had won a game. You wondered whether he smiled like that too when you fueled his stroking game with more moans - but only if it was good.

Shortly later, you were sure of three things: First, your friend wasn’t as shy in bed as he usually appeared to be. Second, he was a pro in the stroking game. And third… What was it again? You had entirely forgotten about the third point when you were holding onto the headboard like a lifeline, Taeyong not only making sure that you went out pregnant, but also sore as fuck.

The wooden frame was squeaking under you with such despair when Taeyong mercilessly rammed into you, you didn’t know who screamed louder, the bed or you. You had assumed that you would do it only in one position until he was finished, but he had had entire other plans.

You didn’t know for how long you had been cuming and cuming, but it just wouldn’t stop, and he still stood as strong as in the beginning, having fucked you from four different positions already - and there was no end in sight. You also didn’t complain though as you hadn’t had that much fun in bed in a long time already, enjoying every aspect of it.

When Taeyong’s body strained under you though, his hands pressing into your thighs after you had ridden him for a while, you smirked at him in the same cocky manner he had kept smirking whenever he had made you cum. 

He spilled his seeds all inside of you, and only then you remembered again why you were even doing this in the first place, a certain sadness settling within you when you realized that it was over. But you didn’t admit it.

Moments later, you were lying side by side with a certain gap between you, nobody saying a word, nobody making a move.

It was Taeyong who spoke first. “I’m sorry… I just kind of got… carried away.”

“It’s okay,” you replied hoarsely. “I… enjoyed it.”

You turned your head to your left, then above just to find him already looking at you. Somehow, the awkwardness had entirely vanished, having made place for fondness and a mutual understanding.

“You know,” he then continued, “it’s not certain that it will actually work the first time.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“So… when do you want to do it again? Tomorrow, I’m free.”

Taeyong moved his head a bit, lowering it to your level, but stopped right in front of your lips again. He was awaiting your answer before deciding whether he would do the following or not.

But you had decided already.

“Tomorrow sounds good,” you whispered.

Then, he kissed you - although kisses were reserved for lovers.

[coleskingdom]

Something More

Adam Page x female reader

Same AU as Debut

As we departed for our honeymoon and wedding night the stories that women had been taught about their wifely duties weighed heavy on my mind. Adam took my hand as he helped me into the carriage, he settled in beside me. “ Are you happy?” He asked “ I am” my voice shakier than I had hoped. “ Darlin, what’s wrong?” He asked and my face flushed a crimson “Adam, I’m nervous I’m going to disappoint you….tonight “ I said leaning into him. He settled his arm around me “Darlin, you could never disappoint me. I’m a patient man, there’s no rush, we have the rest of our lives.” his voice soft.

He checked us into the hotel, it was a grand room. He picked me up and carried me across threshold. He kissed me when he sat me down. The kiss was tender and his mouth moved on mine and I clung to him. The dark wooden furniture and the largest bed I had ever seen. There was a settee in the room, “ Adam, can we talk?” I asked earnestly “Darlin, we can always talk, I always want to listen to you , comfort you and love you.” the tenderness in his voice easing my nerves. “ I understand my wifely duties, I understand that men take great pleasure in the act, and I’m prepared to give you that.” my voice in a higher octave than I hoped. “ Darlin, let me stop you, do you like kissing me? “ he asked “ Yes” I said “Do you feel attracted to me?” He asked “Yes” I said a blush coming to my face. “ Have I in our brief courtship ever given you in indication that I want you trapped into a preconceived notion of what it means to be my wife?” He asked “No” I said “But..” he cut me off “ what leads you to believe that you won’t enjoy our marital bed? Is it what other gentlewomen have told you ?” his attention fully on me. “Adam, it’s what I’ve been told by mother all my life. “ Adam chuckled “You my dear are not your mother. I’m much more interested in what your grandmother told you.” his eyes full of mischief, “ My grandmother, well she was a bit more….optimistic.” I laughed

“ There’s that laugh I love so much. Darlin, I love you and I desire you. Let me make you happy, let me show you how it should be.” his voice taking on a rich tone.

He kissed me, his mouth exploring mine, his hands gently cradling my face as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved slowly around my jaw, and down my neck. Staying a little longer in a spot that I made a little noise at. My senses overwhelmed, “Adam” I said in a voice I didn’t recognize. “ Yes” his mouth not stopping “ can I touch you?” I asked wanting to run my fingers through his golden locks. “ Of course I am yours as much as you are mine.” My hands ran through his hair , an appreciative groan falling from his lips. He took his time, my body began to relax, and respond to his attention. He removed my dress, and undergarments he kissed places I never imagined being kissed a blush covered my body, as he began to undress. My eyes lingered appreciatively on his chest, my hands touching his chest, he was patient as I placed my hands on him, and my lips on him. He picked me up and laid me down on the bed, he positioned himself over me “ Darlin this maybe uncomfortable and I’ll do everything to make it as pleasurable for you as I can. It won’t be like this always.” He kissed me deeply “Just keep looking at me, you can touch me, kiss me, grab my hand. “ I nodded my head as my breath hitched , “ I love you “ I whispered desperately, “ I love you my dear.” He positioned himself between my legs , he kissed me as he pushed inside, stopping to allow me to adjust. “Darlin, are you okay?” I nodded my body adjusting to this new sensation, “I’m gonna move a little bit we are almost there.” he said pressing another kiss to my lips, his hand reached for mine, and placed it above my head all of his weight on his arm trying not to crush me. I squeezed his hand as he pushed in, I winced at the brief pain, but it was not as bad as I had been told. “Adam, it’s okay, I’m okay” I said a smile on my lips, my hand reaching his muscular back. He began to move and set a pace that caused my body to feel a tingling that I didn’t know how to describe, my body suddenly taking over my hips meeting his as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “ Adam” I moaned as my legs began to shake around him, a feeling of pressure in my abdomen building. “ It’s okay just let go.” he said as I fell over the edge into a feeling I never felt , it was so pleasurable that it felt sinful. He continued to move and he found his own pleasure in my body. He collapsed and rolled beside me. “ Darlin, how do you feel?” a concern on his face. “Happy, relaxed, sore, sleepy, mostly happy.” I said curling into his chest, his strong arms around me. “Was it okay for you?” I asked afraid to meet his eyes. “Darlin you were everything and more than I could’ve dreamed of.” He smiled conspiratorially “It only gets more fun from here my darling.” His fingers brushing my hair, as I fell asleep listening to the beat of his heart.

[jerrylewis-thekid]

I wanted to ask you something and I said it might be a long answer...so my question is why do Dean and Jerry's children act as if their parents really haven't spoken for twenty years?? All of their children, especially the older ones, witnessed the drama between their parents in the sixties and the Sinatra meetings they had before 76. And also, weren't Dean children sees Jerry sometimes? I do not know where I read that they know about a file in the Federal Investigations, so why do they act, and that they parents really don't spoken for twenty years? None of their children mentioned the amount of information that we found for them, and Richie’s words that his father said that he communicated with Jerry again, when they were in communication before his son’s accident!

Hi, your good question. Dean's children who have any memories of the Martin & Lewis period are Betty's children. Curiously, however, Craig (Betty's eldest son and the eldest of all Dean's children) never spoke about his father. I had read that he married very young only to live elsewhere away from his original family. Patti wrote in her book that after the breakup they happened to often randomly meet Dean's children (the first four, Betty's children). But only Deana wrote and talked about her father and Jerry. And she always called him “Uncle Jerry” even after the breakup, even when Jerry was old. Betty's kids and Sinatra's kids loved Jerry. Deana referred to Jerry as "her second father" and said he was always a rock for her father. ALWAYS? Always when... even after the breakup, even when according to the official versions they weren't speaking to each other? Deana, like Jerry, always "said and didn't say" when talking about Dean and Jerry. There is a photo of Claudia Martin (Betty's daughter) and Jerry from the mid-1960s. Where were they and above all who took that photo? And it was published by Deana on her Instagram profile. Betty's children were closer to Jerry, I think more Claudia and Deana, but they were. I don't think Jeanne's children were. Dean Paul JR was born in 1951, Ricci Martin was born in 1953, too young to remember, Gina was born in December 1956, after the breakup. I firmly think they were raised in “bad Jerry” thinking. Ricci Martin in the hateful book he wrote about his father and above all about his own family (they were rich, they lived the good life, they knew important people, things like that, for me Ricci Martin was frighteningly empty inside) HE WROTE BAD THINGS ABOUT JERRY . Throughout the entire book, HE DIDN'T EVEN MENTION THE 1976 REUNION. I'm sure he wrote "at Jeanne's dictation." He could not remember anything, because he was too young during that period. Ricci Martin wrote that his family knew about the FBI file (and had a laugh... my homosexual father? But if he had a queue of women outside the dressing room. Yes, believe it Ricci) but he didn't write when they found out. Here too... say but don't tell everything. I have not read statements from Jeanne's other two children about Jerry. I think they were "educated" to hate Jerry. They know what they were told. And the myth of twenty years without speaking contributes to fueling the "Martin & Lewis myth". For them, it is convenient for them to always keep things hidden.

And sometimes I think that the whole network of hatred that surrounds Jerry and the desire to remove the Martin & Lewis period from Dean's career and life starts right there...

[cooki3face]

I think I saw something earlier or last night that said that men who refuse to grow up will find women who suit their lifestyles and the mental age in which they would like to be instead of growing up, learning to be a man, learning to fulfill his role he’d rather not do the inner work and stick to a constant who will allow him to be immature and will enable him. There are so many situations (especially those I’ve seen first hand) where a man will act out, will mistreat a woman in his life, and often times his dream girl as well, and fumble that girl/woman and not be able to find what it is that he desires on a deeper level any longer or for a really long time. I’ve also seen in other instances men acting out and the women in their lives being hurt by them and mistreated by them and not being able to put their foot down and not settle for his behavior and that further agitates the situation and creates so many delays. I talked about something like this a really long time ago “men will be with/choose who they feel suits their lifestyle best” this doesn’t even always have to do with the physical manifestation of one’s lifestyle either (quality of life, hobbies, passions, or career choices and aspirations) this can greatly have to do with emotional shortcomings, bad behaviors, bad habits, unhealed aspects of one’s mind and inner self, etc.

He wants to lie, be deceptive, mistreat women in his life you may see him cling to someone whom he perceives to be or IS emotionally immature, someone who cannot hold him accountable without holding herself accountable for her lack of healing, shortcomings, habits/behaviors. Someone who struggles with a lack of self worth, self respect, perhaps someone who has people pleasing habits, who may not be capable of putting herself first or leaving in an effective way.

After all, we all embody the energy that we most often attract and as people we mirror each other and are attracted to one another through energetic frequencies. This is why we find we often come across people, friends, romantic relationships, sexual relationships or connections with others that cause deep and profound inner purging or emotional distress. Many of us have unhealed aspects and there are plenty of others whose issues cast light on our own. Those who choose to learn to be better and live a life that requires expansion and growth will learn and those who do not will remain in a space of stagnancy or create delays for oneself.