#but then refuse to actually genuinely engage in these emotions

[charcoalowl]

when I make a comedy sitcom it will be a deeply subdued treatise on the absurdity of the human condition and the quotidian tragedy of ordinary existence

[librarycards]

something about most of the americans who post about the 'shitty educational system making them think there are no cities in mexico' or something is that, on a deep level, they enjoy & revel in their ignorance, their incuriosity. they share the same bombastic and self-congratulatory anti-intellectualism as any trump-voting uncle, except enjoy couching it in the auspices of [white] queerness & disability.

i am white (more or less) and queer and disabled & attended shitty schools in de facto segregated areas, i have encountered these ppl all my life, and what has always struck me as bizarre and embarrassing is the sheer ease with which alternate forms of info were accessible. all you needed was an internet connection, which we almost uniformly had. i found information about whiteness & intersectionality & colonialism & empire as a preteen through blogs and tumblr and other social media, and when i got older, followed my curiosity to actual books on these topics and more. it did not require anything exceptional, or even a higher education.

people know these resources are there. they know how to find them, in no more clicks than it takes to get to their favorite show or fanfic or whatever. but the discomfort that encountering new info requires, the embrace of the unknown, the genuine intellectual & emotional engagement with difference and friction, is something that they deep down know that "we" (in the global north/west) have the privilege to refuse. and there is a horrible "pleasure" in that refusal, that knowledge that one is permited to know nothing and still have the world at one's feet. it is despicable and inexcusable, and i'm glad it is getting vocally called out.

[ceilidho]

This is in no way of hating but i want to know why do you enjoy writing noncon/rape? When I first downloaded tumblr which was couple of months ago i was surprised by the amount of noncon fics here. I eventually came to enjoy them which makes me question myself. Whenever i read a noncon fic and enjoy it i feel like im betraying women who actually went through those traumatic events. Plus I actually don't really like dark romance books? I love cod dead dove and that is mainly because i really love the characters and the authors are so talented. I rambled so much and i hope you don't get this in the wrong way i don't mean to hate AT ALL i love the stuff you write. Maybe i shouldn't think too much and let myself enjoy what im reading lol

first of all, no worries! i wasn't sure about your tone/intentions at first, but by the end i was totally fine with the question.

i actually don't mind talking about this stuff - i just sometimes avoid it on main because i prefer chatting about it privately.

second, i'm no psychologist or sociologist, so i probably won't be able to give you the most satisfactory answer, but i think there are a lot of different reasons. i can only name a few. one thing i should mention right off the bat is that rape fantasies are very normal (and this is true whether you're a survivor of SA or not) and writing/reading fiction can be a safe way to process those thoughts/feelings.

one of prevailing reasons is, of course, that many survivors of SA use noncon/dubcon literature/art as a way of processing their experiences and taking ownership of their trauma.

and look, people are going to go back and forth on this point (i've seen it all before - many people refuse to believe that engaging with noncon lit/art is helpful, and in fairness, it's NOT helpful for everyone because every person is different), but at the end of the day, if a survivor tells you "writing/reading this was helpful in my recovery" then that's that!

additionally, for many women and non-binary folk (i can only speak as a cis woman, but i'm sure this is a shared lived experience across many different people), we're also taught from a very young age to suppress our sexual desires / that being open about our sexuality is morally reprehensible and shameful. and a lot of people carry that shame for years, impacting them well into adulthood. so dubcon/noncon fantasies can be a way of being able to enjoy sexual scenarios where you don't have to be the initiator, thus taking away some of the emotional weight and shame.

plus, at the end of the day (and im sure many people will disagree with this take, it's something that i'm still figuring out myself), there is a kind of weird underlying consent implicit in dark fics. like, you might be reading a fic or novel that's ostensibly noncon, but you're also actively seeking out that literature (hopefully it's not just sprung on you - i do very much agree with tagging to the fullest extent and my lukewarm take is that I think all books, even traditionally published ones, should come with content/trigger warnings too).

there are a medley of reasons why someone might write or read dark fiction/dark romance. again, i'm just one person and i can only speak from my own experience!

i think at the end of the day, the important thing to realize is that fiction is fake, and as long as the writer appropriately tags their work and ensures that the audience is aware of what they're getting into when they start reading, they're not coercing the reader into something they aren't prepared for.

and it's totally fine if you have limits (like, you can read and enjoy dubcon, but not noncon) or can't engage with the material at all, but it's also unfair to say that it reflects someone's real life values - the same way that we don't say that the people who enjoy crime fiction must love murder.

and the last thing i want to say because this got a bit out of hand lol, is that, yes, for some people dark fiction is genuinely harmful, whether or not they're a survivor. it's not for everyone and that's completely fine and i'm aware of that, which is why i agree that you should tag as much as possible (even if you feel like you're overdoing it sometimes), but someone else's discomfort doesn't give them the right to tell you how to process your own emotions/experiences/desires/etc.

as long as no one's getting hurt, there's no issue as far as i'm concerned. and sorry but, no one's getting hurt by reading a fic or a novel unless the author didn't give proper content warnings - if you "forgot" to read the tags or read anyway DESPITE being warned, im sorry but that's life.

[marvyu]

HE AIN'T HITTING IT LIKE HE SUPPOSED TO HIT IT

pairings. xu minghao x female reader genre(s). smut

summary. at a party you find unexpected intimacy with minghao making you question your current relationship and discover what you truly need.

warnings. explicit language, sexual themes, alcohol consumption, intoxication, kissing, fingering, oral sex, protected penetrative sex, breakup, cheating?, emotional conflict -- if i missed anything lmk!

the hum of the party surrounds you as you step through the doorway, the bass from the speakers pulsing in time with your heartbeat. colorful lights dance across the crowded living room, where bodies move in sync with the music, laughter, and conversation blending into a cacophony of sound. you scan the room, spotting your boyfriend in the far corner, engaged in a heated debate with his friends. you sigh, the tension between you two hanging heavy over your head.

you refuse to have sex with him, a boundary he hasn’t been too understanding about. he thinks you’re not comfortable yet, which is partly true, but there’s more to it that you can’t quite put into words. it’s not just about being uncomfortable; there’s a fear that grips you every time you think about taking that step with him.

in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, you spot minghao. his aloof demeanor and intense gaze make him stand out even in the dim lighting. he’s always been a bit of an enigma, quiet and reserved, which only fuels your irritation towards him. tonight, you decide to approach him, a mix of curiosity and annoyance driving your steps.

you weave through the crowd, the heat from the bodies around you making the room feel warmer than it is. as you approach the kitchen, the chatter and laughter seem to fade into the background, leaving just the steady thrum of the music and your own heartbeat in your ears.

minghao stands there, seemingly lost in thought as he sips his drink. he doesn't notice you at first, and for a moment, you observe him. his expression is neutral, his eyes scanning the room with a certain detachment. he's always been like this, you think. aloof, almost distant. it irks you, this air of mystery he carries.

“hey, loner,” you tease, leaning against the counter beside him. the corners of your mouth twitch into a smirk as you try to catch his attention. “why so serious?”

minghao finally looks at you, his gaze cool and detached. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence between you stretching out. he takes another sip of his drink before responding. “just enjoying my drink,” he replies, his tone as blunt as ever.

you roll your eyes, taking a moment to study him. he’s dressed simply, yet there’s something about the way he carries himself that commands attention. you’ve never understood why he intrigues you so much, especially given how different he is from your usual type.

“always so mysterious,” you comment, your voice light, though there’s an underlying edge to your words. “what’s it like being the brooding artist of the group?”

he raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “what’s it like always needing to be the center of attention?”

you can’t help but laugh, a genuine sound that surprises even you. “touché,” you say, raising your own drink in a mock toast. “i guess we both have our roles to play.”

the banter feels comfortable, almost familiar. it’s strange, given how little you actually interact with minghao. your interactions are usually brief, marked by sarcastic remarks and quick retorts. tonight, though, there’s something different in the air.

“so,” you say, leaning in slightly, “why are you really here all alone? don’t tell me you’re avoiding everyone.”

he shrugs, his gaze drifting over the crowd. “sometimes it’s better to watch than to participate. you see more that way.”

you follow his gaze, the throng of partygoers a blur of movement and color. “and what do you see?”

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—interest, perhaps?—before his expression smooths over again. “people pretending to be something they’re not. it’s entertaining.”

you scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “and you’re above all that?”

“i didn’t say that,” he replies, his tone neutral. “just that it’s easier to see when you’re not in the middle of it.”

there’s a brief silence as you process his words. you’ve always thought of minghao as...detached, maybe even a bit pretentious, but tonight he seems more… grounded. it’s disarming, and you find yourself wanting to know more.

“you know,” you say, your voice softer now, “i always thought you were kind of a jerk. but maybe i was wrong.”

he chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “maybe you were. or maybe i am, and you’re just starting to see it.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “well, if you are, you hide it well.”

there’s another pause, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. you’re not sure what it is, but it makes your pulse quicken.

“so, what about you?” he asks suddenly, his gaze piercing. “why are you really here? with a boyfriend who doesn’t seem to pay you much attention?”

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. you glance over at your boyfriend, still engrossed in his conversation, oblivious to your absence.

“i don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “maybe i’m just trying to figure things out.”

minghao’s expression softens, and he leans in closer. “figure what out?”

you take a deep breath, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. “why i’m with someone who doesn’t understand me. why i can’t bring myself to be… intimate with him.”

he studies you for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. “your boyfriend probably doesn’t even know the way you taste.”

your breath hitches, the bluntness of his statement hitting you harder than you’d like to admit. you laugh it off, though the sound is hollow. “yeah, true,” you sigh, surprising even yourself with your honesty.

minghao's eyes narrow slightly, curiosity evident in his gaze. "what, really? why?"

you feel a mix of irritation and vulnerability. his directness is unnerving, and you can't decide whether you appreciate it or hate it. "scared," you mutter, turning your eyes away from him, focusing instead on the rim of your drink. the conversation suddenly feels too real, too raw.

he frowns, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "scared of what?"

your fingers tighten around your glass, the condensation making your skin slick. "too many questions," you reply, your voice strained. you take a large sip of your drink, the alcohol burning down your throat. "i'm going to go dance."

you push away from the counter, your heart pounding in your chest as you head towards the makeshift dance floor. the music engulfs you, the bass vibrating through your body. you lose yourself in the rhythm, the world narrowing down to the beat and the movement of your limbs. for a moment, you manage to forget the piercing gaze of minghao, the weight of his questions lingering in the back of your mind.

you spot mingyu in the crowd, his tall frame and easy smile drawing you in like a magnet. he's talking with a group of friends, but his eyes light up when he sees you approaching. you feel a surge of confidence, the alcohol making you bolder, more uninhibited.

"hey, mingyu," you say, your voice a little louder than necessary to be heard over the music.

he turns to you, his smile widening. "hey, y/n! having fun?"

"trying to," you reply with a grin. "dance with me?"

he doesn't need to be asked twice. mingyu wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the two of you start to move to the beat. his movements are smooth and effortless, and you find yourself matching his rhythm easily. the music is loud, the bass pulsing through your veins as you lose yourself in the dance.

you throw your arms around his neck, leaning in closer as the song shifts to a slower, more sensual beat. the room seems to blur around you, your focus narrowing down to the feel of mingyu's hands on your waist, the warmth of his body against yours.

for a moment, it feels like nothing else matters. you can forget about your boyfriend, about minghao's piercing questions. all that exists is the music and the movement, the way your body responds to mingyu's touch.

but then, through the haze of the dance floor, you catch sight of minghao again. he's standing at the edge of the room, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. there's something unreadable in his expression—concern, perhaps, or maybe something deeper. you can't tell, and it frustrates you.

you try to shake off the feeling, focusing instead on mingyu. "you're a good dancer," you say, your voice breathy.

he chuckles, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "thanks. you're not so bad yourself."

you laugh, the sound mingling with the music. but even as you try to lose yourself in the moment, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. it's as if minghao's gaze is a physical presence, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

the sensation intensifies, becoming almost unbearable. you open your eyes to see minghao still standing there, his expression unreadable but his gaze unwavering. there's a moment of silent communication between you, something passing between you that you can't quite identify.

before you can react, minghao is beside you, his presence commanding. he gently but firmly places a hand on your arm, pulling you away from mingyu with a surprising amount of strength. "come on," he says, his voice steady but leaving no room for argument. "you need to sober up."

"hey!" you protest, trying to pull away. "i'm fine!"

minghao doesn't relent, his grip firm but not painful as he leads you through the crowd and up the stairs. each step feels like a small battle, the alcohol in your system making your movements sluggish and your thoughts hazy. you barely notice the curious looks from other partygoers as minghao guides you to the second floor.

he opens a door at the end of the hallway, revealing a guest bedroom, and gently but insistently guides you inside. the room is dimly lit, a stark contrast to the chaos downstairs. the silence is almost deafening, broken only by the distant thrum of the music.

minghao closes the door behind you, the click of the latch sounding strangely final. you sway slightly on your feet, the room spinning around you as you try to get your bearings. he places a steadying hand on your arm, his touch grounding you.

“sit down,” he instructs, guiding you to the edge of the bed. you sink down onto the mattress, the soft surface a welcome relief.

he crouches in front of you, his eyes level with yours. there’s a seriousness in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. he reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “drink this,” he says firmly. “you need to sober up.”

you take the bottle from him, the cool plastic a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin. you bring it to your lips, taking a small sip at first, then a larger one as the refreshing liquid slides down your throat. it feels like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long.

“what?” you ask, catching the intense look in his eyes.

“nothing,” he mutters, flopping back on the bed and pulling out his phone, the blue light illuminating his features.

you frown, turning to look at him. “you’re just going to lay on some random guy’s bed?”

“can’t really give a shit, but i think this is the guest room,” he replies, still focused on his phone.

you nod, a small “oh” escaping your lips. the silence stretches out between you, filled only by the muffled sounds of the party downstairs. you take another sip of water, feeling the fog in your mind slowly start to lift.

you lean back on your hands, your gaze drifting to the ceiling. “why did you bring me here?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

minghao glances at you, his expression unreadable. “because you were about to make a mistake,” he says simply.

you furrow your brow, confusion and frustration warring within you. “what mistake?”

he sits up, his phone forgotten as he turns to face you fully. “you were drunk and about to do something you’d regret. i didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

his words hit you harder than you expected, a mixture of relief and irritation flooding your system. “i can take care of myself,” you snap, though the conviction in your voice wavers.

“i know you can,” he replies calmly. “but sometimes it’s okay to let someone else look out for you.”

you stare at him, the weight of his words settling over you. there’s an honesty in his gaze that’s disarming, and for the first time tonight, you feel a flicker of gratitude towards him.

“thank you,” you say softly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “anytime.”

the silence that follows is different—less charged, more comfortable. you take another sip of water, the clarity returning to your thoughts as the alcohol’s grip begins to loosen.

after a minute, a sudden surge of boldness washes over you. the silence stretches, filled with unspoken tension. you glance at minghao, his focus seemingly back on his phone, but you can feel the subtle shifts in his attention, the way his eyes flicker toward you when he thinks you aren't looking.

you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. the alcohol has dulled your inhibitions, but the clarity from the water has given you a strange sense of purpose. with a determined exhale, you shift your position, moving to straddle his waist. the motion is deliberate, and it catches him off guard.

minghao's phone slips from his hand, forgotten, as he leans up immediately. one hand instinctively goes to your waist, his grip firm and grounding. his eyes search yours, curiosity and amusement mingling in their depths.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his voice low and tinged with genuine curiosity.

your heart races, the intensity of the moment making you acutely aware of every sensation—the warmth of his hand on your waist, the rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the way his breath mingles with yours. you hold onto his shoulders, the contact grounding you as you lean down, bringing your face inches from his.

“if i’m being honest… you look really good tonight—and i’m horny,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of desire and nerves.

minghao's laugh is rich and warm, a sound that reverberates through your body. his grip on your waist tightens slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the charged atmosphere between you. “what happened to you being scared?” he teases, his eyes darkening with interest.

you swallow hard, your gaze dropping to his lips before meeting his eyes again. the closeness is intoxicating, the tension palpable. “well… it’s you,” you whisper, the words hanging in the air between you. “you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

for a moment, time seems to stand still. the room around you fades away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this electrifying moment. then, as if pulled by an irresistible force, your lips finally meet.

the kiss is everything you didn’t know you needed. it starts tentatively, both of you testing the waters, but quickly escalates. it’s hungry, desperate, and filled with a passion that takes you both by surprise. minghao’s hand slides from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. you respond eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid he might disappear.

the world outside this room ceases to exist. there’s only the taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, the way his breath hitches when you press closer. the kiss is messy, your lips and tongues clashing in a dance that feels both frenzied and perfectly synchronized.

minghao shifts beneath you, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, angling you for better access. you moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating between you and spurring you both on. he breaks the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting heavily.

“y/n,” he murmurs, your name a soft plea on his lips.

you don’t respond with words. instead, you kiss him again, your lips moving with more urgency, more need. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared desire—the rustle of clothing, the soft gasps and moans, the rhythmic beat of your heart pounding in your ears.

minghao’s hands are everywhere, mapping out the curves of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he slips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, the contact of his skin against yours sending a shiver down your spine. you arch into his touch, craving more, needing more.

he flips you onto your back, his movements fluid and purposeful. his lips trail down your neck, sucking and nibbling at your sensitive skin, each touch making you gasp and writhe beneath him. his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until you lift your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head and discard it.

“beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes raking over your exposed skin with a reverence that makes your heart flutter.

you reach for him, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. he helps you, shrugging out of the fabric and tossing it aside. your hands explore the expanse of his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch. it’s overwhelming, the intensity of your desire for him, the way every nerve in your body seems to be alight with need.

the kiss deepens, becoming sloppy and filled with need. minghao's lips move against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. his tongue teases your lower lip before delving deeper, tangling with yours in a dance of raw desire. each kiss feels like it's pulling you further into a vortex of passion, leaving you craving more.

his hand slides up your thigh, the touch light and teasing at first, sending shivers down your spine. the heat of his palm against your skin ignites a fire within you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. he pauses for a moment, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin just below the hem of your skirt, making you gasp.

minghao's eyes meet yours, a silent question lingering in their depths. you nod, giving him the permission he seeks. with a swift but gentle motion, he flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours. the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against yours, is both grounding and electrifying.

his lips leave a trail of fire down your neck, each kiss deliberate and sensual. you arch your back, giving him better access as his mouth finds the sensitive spot just below your ear. he nips at the skin, eliciting a soft moan from you, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

minghao's hand continues its journey, slipping under your skirt and trailing up the inside of your thigh. his touch is firm but gentle, his fingers exploring the soft skin with a reverence that makes you tremble. he pauses again, his eyes locking with yours as his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“you’re so responsive,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “it’s driving me crazy.”

you bite your lip, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues to tease you. “minghao, please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “patience,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your collarbone. “i want to savor this.”

his fingers slide under the fabric, finding your wetness. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand as he expertly teases you, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body. his thumb circles your clit, the pressure light and teasing, driving you to the edge but never quite letting you tip over.

“minghao,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid he might pull away. “i need you.”

he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your reactions. “i’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

he slips a finger inside you, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. you gasp, your body arching into his touch, every nerve ending on fire. he moves slowly at first, his finger exploring your depths with a gentleness that makes you ache for more. he adds another finger, stretching you, filling you, each movement deliberate and controlled.

his lips find yours again, the kiss a perfect blend of passion and tenderness. you lose yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him, every touch and every kiss pushing you closer to the edge. he moves his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still circling your clit, the dual sensations driving you wild.

“please,” you beg, your voice barely a whisper, the need for release consuming you. “i need to come.”

minghao’s eyes meet yours, a flicker of something soft and caring in their depths. “not yet,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a barely-there kiss. “i want to watch you fall apart.”

he increases the pace of his fingers, each thrust hitting just the right spot, his thumb applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit. you feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.

“please,” you beg again, your voice a desperate plea.

with a final, skillful flick of his fingers, he pushes you over the edge. you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm, waves of pleasure washing over you in an intense, all-consuming rush. minghao doesn’t stop, his fingers and thumb continuing their relentless assault, prolonging your pleasure, making you see stars.

he watches you the entire time, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. “you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

when you finally come down from the high, your body trembling and spent, he gently withdraws his fingers, his touch soothing as he caresses your thigh. you look up at him, your eyes half-lidded and hazy with satisfaction.

“minghao,” you whisper, reaching out to him, needing the connection, the closeness.

he leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “i’m here,” he whispers against your lips. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you pull him closer, your fingers trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. he inhales sharply as you undo the button and slide the zipper down, your touch sending a shiver through him.

he stands up briefly, the absence of his warmth leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. his movements are hurried, but there’s a grace to them that you can’t help but admire. the way his muscles flex under his skin as he discards his clothes is mesmerizing, each motion deliberate and efficient. you watch him, your heart pounding in anticipation, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him.

minghao’s shirt falls to the floor first, followed by his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. the dim light casts shadows across his body, highlighting the defined lines of his muscles. he glances at you, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slides them down. you can’t tear your eyes away, your gaze drinking in every inch of him.

when he’s finally free of his clothes, he stands there for a moment, the weight of the moment hanging between you. the raw vulnerability of being completely exposed, both physically and emotionally, is almost overwhelming. you reach out to him, your fingers trailing lightly over his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch.

he shivers slightly, his breath hitching as your fingers brush against him. he reaches for a condom from his discarded pants, tearing the packet open with his teeth. the sound is loud in the quiet room, a sharp contrast to the softness of the moment. he rolls it on with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving yours.

minghao lowers himself over you, his body a comforting weight, his skin warm against yours. he pauses, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle and filled with concern.

you nod, your heart swelling with affection and desire. “i’m sure,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions coursing through you.

he positions himself at your entrance, the tip of him pressing against your wetness. he pushes in slowly, the sensation both familiar and entirely new. you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fills you completely, the stretch a delicious burn. the world narrows down to the feeling of him inside you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly.

minghao moves slowly at first, his thrusts measured and controlled. he’s giving you time to adjust, to savor the sensation of being connected in such an intimate way. each movement is deliberate, his eyes locked on yours, watching for your reactions. the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s so attuned to your needs, makes your heart swell with emotion.

as you grow accustomed to the feel of him, you begin to move with him, matching his rhythm. the pace quickens, each thrust deeper and more urgent. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure—the slap of skin against skin, the soft gasps and moans, the rhythmic pounding of your heart.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more, craving more. he responds with a thrust that hits just the right spot, making you cry out his name. “minghao,” you moan, your nails dragging down his back, leaving faint red trails.

he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, his movements becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. “come for me, y/n,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough with need.

with a final thrust, you shatter, the orgasm washing over you in waves, leaving you breathless and spent. minghao follows soon after, his release spilling into the condom, his body tensing and then relaxing against yours. the feeling of him filling you, even with the barrier between you, is overwhelmingly intimate, a physical manifestation of the connection you feel.

the room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the party downstairs and the sound of your breathing as you both come down from the high of your shared experience. minghao's weight shifts beside you, his warmth a comforting presence in the cool room.

he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender. his fingers linger for a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek before he speaks. “you okay?” he asks, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, the reality of what just happened beginning to sink in. “yeah,” you breathe, a small smile playing on your lips. “i’m okay.”

relief washes over his features, and he nods, his eyes never leaving yours. he pulls away slightly, his movements slow and careful as he disposes of the condom, his actions methodical and precise. you watch him, feeling a strange sense of intimacy in the mundane act.

when he returns to the bed, he lays beside you, his presence a comforting weight. he props himself up on one elbow, his gaze soft as he looks at you. there’s a moment of silence, filled with the unspoken emotions and thoughts swirling between you.

minghao breaks the silence, his voice serious but gentle. “we can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” his words are a request and a plea, the gravity of the situation clear in his eyes.

you take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “whatever,” you mutter, feeling a mix of emotions. the reality of what just happened is complex, a blend of relief, confusion, and something else you can’t quite identify. “thanks for the first time,” you add, your voice softening as you meet his gaze.

a soft laugh escapes his lips, the sound soothing in the quiet room. “anytime,” he replies, his eyes softening as he looks at you. there’s a warmth in his gaze, a depth of emotion that makes your heart ache in a way you can’t quite explain.

you both lay there in silence for a while, the quiet moments stretching out, filled with the unspoken understanding between you. the reality of what just happened is starting to settle, the magnitude of the shift in your relationship becoming clear.

minghao’s fingers find yours, his touch light and reassuring. he squeezes your hand gently, a silent promise that he’s here for you, that this moment meant something to him too. you squeeze back, the simple gesture conveying more than words ever could.

you turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “this changes things, doesn’t it?” you whisper, the question hanging in the air between you.

he nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, it does,” he admits, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and hope. “but maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

you ponder his words, the truth of them resonating deep within you. the dynamic between you has shifted, the lines between enemies and something more becoming blurred. it’s a lot to take in, but there’s a part of you that feels a strange sense of contentment, a sense of rightness in what just happened.

as the minutes tick by, the silence becomes more comfortable, the tension easing into a shared understanding. you both know that things won’t be the same after tonight, but there’s a sense of anticipation, of curiosity about what the future holds.

minghao’s eyes grow heavy, and you can see the fatigue setting in. “we should probably get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice soft and drowsy.

you nod, feeling the exhaustion creeping into your own limbs. “yeah, you’re right,” you agree, snuggling closer to him, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence.

he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his embrace. the feeling of his body against yours is reassuring, a silent promise that he’s here with you, that you’re not alone. you close your eyes, the events of the night replaying in your mind as you drift off to sleep.

the night passes slowly, filled with the quiet sounds of your breathing and the warmth of minghao’s embrace. when you wake in the morning, the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains, you feel a sense of calm, of clarity.

you glance over at minghao, his face peaceful in sleep, and you wonder how this will change things between you. there's a part of you that’s excited, that’s hopeful for what the future holds. but there’s also a realization that you can’t ignore: your current relationship with your boyfriend isn’t right for you.

the thought of breaking up with him has crossed your mind before, but it’s never been as clear as it is now. last night made you realize that you deserve to be with someone who understands you, someone who makes you feel safe and cherished. someone like minghao.

quietly, you slip out of minghao’s embrace, careful not to wake him. you sit up in bed, watching him for a moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing your anxious thoughts. leaning down, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent thank you for everything he’s shown you, for the clarity he’s brought to your life.

minghao stirs slightly, a soft murmur escaping his lips, but he doesn’t wake. you smile softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face before you slip out of bed. the room is cool, and you shiver as you gather your clothes, dressing quickly and quietly.

before you leave, you take one last look at minghao, a sense of determination settling over you. you know what you have to do, and you’re ready to face it. you’re ready to make a change, to pursue something real and meaningful.

as you step out of the room and close the door softly behind you, the reality of what you need to do sinks in. you pull out your phone, staring at the screen for a moment at the spam messages he sent last night.

boyfriend: baby? boyfriend: yo where you at? boyfriend: people are telling me they saw you leave with that guy you claim to hate wtf??? boyfriend: IM WORRIED. IM GOING HOME. YOU BETTER CALL ME!

you sighed, before typing out a message to your boyfriend. it’s not an easy message to send, but it’s necessary.

you: we need to talk. you: i think it’s time for us to go our separate ways.

© marvyu 2k24 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

[llamagoddessofficial]

I have a question related to the prison au. Sorry if this has been asked before but what if Mc didn’t com in as a nurse but rather a therapist. Like the jail’s first therapist and it was all mc’s idea because Mc thinks that if the prisoners have more of am emotional outlet they won’t be as aggressive to one another and will become better people/monsters after they get out. And Mc wants to make a difference for them because Mc knows that their jail life isn’t the best. Mc can tell sans is trying to manipulate them, and isn’t affected much by reds attempts to charm her as much, and Mc can see threw skill’s scary and can understand him more and teaches him how to communicate how he is feeling better.

Oooooo...

Sans: Unlike pretty much all her other counterparts, this Mc is onto Sans' shit from the very start. Originally assigned to him as a mere formality, she immediately clocks that this motherfucker is much scarier than anyone has noticed before. His 'therapy sessions' are more like mental chess matches between two very perceptive people. Her aim is to genuinely try to treat him, genuinely try to get to the bottom of why he's turned into this terrifying mastermind, and perhaps even help him; there's not much else she can do. No one will believe her. Sans knows that, too.

Sans loves it. At last- someone who really, actually understands him, and the monster (not Monster) he's become. Not someone from his past lingering endlessly on who he used to be, not another pawn buying his 'harmless' persona. He loves having someone who is finally, finally in on his game. He was already fascinated with her from the start, this just makes it so much more intense- he loves being able to drop the mask. He loves the challenge of having to find ways to manipulate that are outside of his usual routes. He loves her, she's all he lives for.

She wants to help him? Cute. He'll show her what the world is really like. Then they can be puppetmasters together.

Red: She's assigned to Red to 'help' with his constant violent outbursts, after he gets in a particularly brutal fight and has to choose between attending therapy or lengthening his sentence. He's not the first violent offender she's dealt with, and he's definitely not the first flirtatious patient... but he's definitely the first that seems so utterly determined to charm her. She's firm on not breaching her ethics and she won't allow herself to do anything more than just get along well with him.

Mc actually makes a big impact on his mental health. The instinct to open up to her is a hard one to ignore, given his affection for her and their great rapport, and Red just likes her more and more with every issue she helps him work through. He doesn't like that she absolutely refuses to be with him, and he sees it as more of a challenge than anything.

When he gets out, he'll make sure she knows he's still very interested in some private sessions...

Skull: Giving Skull a therapist kinda feels like putting a band-aid on a completely severed torso. But it was a legal requirement. He cycles through therapists who either immediately refuse to treat him, or get a few days in and THEN refuse to treat him. Mc is just another in a long line of therapists that the prison expects to see rolling in.

... Except... he's so good for her. He tries to talk, he's calm and never bites, he's highly engaged with the tasks she gets him to do with her, he quickly notices that the better he does the more they make her spend time with him. The less violent he is, the more she talks to him in that lovely soft voice. Anything for more of her voice.

... Issues arise when Mc starts to understand that Skull has developed feelings for her. Deep feelings. He's always trying to kiss, nuzzle or hold her- it feels unethical to keep treating him. But it's also a well established fact that her presence in his life has probably saved several lives. If she tried to tell the prison that she didn't want to treat Skull anymore, she'd probably get a response along the lines of "we don't care, just keep him from eating anyone's hands".

She's not really got much of a choice.

[blindmagdalena]

That video got me thinking, do you think HL genuinely likes meeting his fans? Or does he not care about them and just sees it as another publicity thing?

good question! i waffle on this a lot.

he obviously doesn't respect his fans. he's quick to show disgust or annoyance with them.

i do wonder if this specific instance was partly to make Maeve laugh, which it did. because while he may not like or respect his fans, he does value their love and admiration. most of his breakdowns have to do with the possibility of losing their approval.

it's interesting to watch how smoothly and willingly he engages with and embraces total strangers over and over, though. hugs from celebrities are sort of a bizarre parasocial phenomena when you really think about it. it's just expected that he would do it. knowing how he was raised, it makes sense that he wouldn't even consider refusing a hug, even if he doesn't want to do it. he doesn't maintain boundaries it's just another aspect of agency he does not have.

though it's entirely possible that the first person to actually hug him in his adult life was a fan. maybe part of him enjoyed aspects of it when he was younger, but then he mostly grew out of it. i can't imagine how much he struggles as someone who is both touch starved AND touch averse. i think that's part of why his suit and gloves are so important for him. they serve as a physical barrier to help him not be so overwhelmed by so much direct contact.

imo Homelander has a lot of conflicting emotions regarding his fans and the public in general. he believes they're beneath him, yet he craves their approval. he's their god, yet he's the one who must perform for them. appease them. he must make them think he loves them so that they will love him. he thinks of them as a monolith, and he cares about them in that regard, but as individuals they're entirely disposable.

i usually depict him as having a certain level of face blindness as a by product of meeting so many people a day that he just does not care about. which is why it's interesting to me when he does suddenly take note of someone.

anyways! long story short! it's both. it's a publicity thing, but it's also the closest thing he has to a stable sense of love and self.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

Ever since October 7th, the amount of misinformation and disinformation about Jews, Israel, Judaism, and even just like, basic facts about reality have been so intense that it's really dredging up a lot of my gaslighting trauma.

(No, not in the memic sense that it's been distorted into, but the kind of gaslighting that leads you to detransition and think it was your choice despite drowning in dysphoria, the kind that warps and changes and erases memories, and makes it so that you dissociate for literal months at a time to escape the pain. That kind.)

And I recognized this because I keep finding myself arguing facts and trying to reason with people who say that they're part of the compassionate left and care about working on antisemitism but yet spew the kind of antisemitism that would be totally at home on Stormfront.

It's that first arguing stage of gaslighting, where the abuser keeps saying outrageous, untrue things and you're still fighting to try and get them to empathize with you and seek mutual understanding. This:

A gaslighter does not simply need to be right. He or she also needs for you to believe that they are right. In stage 1, you know that they are being ridiculous, but you argue anyways. You argue for hours, without resolution. You argue over things that shouldn’t be up for debate — your feelings, your opinions, your experience of the world. You argue because you need to be right, you need to be understood, or you need to get their approval. In stage 1, you still believe yourself, but you also unwittingly put that belief up for debate.

(bolding mine) (source)

This is a pattern I recognize in myself in personal relationships and even within communities, but what's happening right now is a lot bigger and more diffuse. It's not one abuser or even a shitty cohort of abusive people who are monopolizing a community space. This is being encouraged in a frighteningly large number of non-Jewish progressive spaces. In the same way that stochastic terrorism adds up very quickly, this type of cultural gaslighting and stochastic emotional abuse feels like a deluge.

But if you look at history, this is not new, for Jews. This is but the latest version of a very long game of Why Won't You Just Give Up and Assimilate or Die that Jews have thus far prevailed on at great cost to ourselves.

Anyway I'm done arguing with goyim about things that absolutely should not be up for debate: Jewish history, Jewish culture, what certain religious concepts in Judaism mean, Jewish lived experiences, what is and isn't antisemitism. If you aren't willing to engage in a genuine way that seeks mutual understanding, I'm not interested. I'm done.

You are engaging in violent behavior and lying to yourself about it and calling it activism. Well I am no longer going to participate. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you are a bad person and I don't forgive you, and you can do that alone.

You are acting from a mob mentality and a mob cannot be reasoned with. You are drunk on your tiny bit of power and social capital, and years down the line you'll lie to yourself and pretend that you cared about us.

You didn't. And deep down you know it, too.

Instead of arguing with people who refuse to see facts or reason and put our experiences up for debate, I am going to work on compiling a resource for people who want to actually learn.

Everyone else can fuck off.

[autistichalsin]

When considering Halsin's polygamy, do you think it is just his way of coping with the scars and traumas of his past? He does admit that monogamy is acceptable, but not for him, and he often talks about roaming. However, the more I play this game, get to know him better, and analyze his character, the more I start to doubt that polygamy is not truly what Halsin wants. He has been through so much - pain, suffering, and torture. What if his polygamy is a shield he uses to protect himself from further pain? Perhaps he has realized that he's fallen in love with Tav and now he is afraid of losing them. Just as you mentioned in your previous post, he is afraid of being alone, rejected, and abandoned.

Just a note- it's polyamory, not polygamy. Polygamy refers specifically to marrying more than one woman.

I absolutely do not in any way, shape, or form, think that he's only polyamorous because of his trauma. Polyamory is who Halsin is. There's a devnote in Halsin's scene that says "sincere- this is a core belief of his."

Wood elves are polyamorous by default. The entire cultural belief is that jealousy is a waste of time, and exploring multiple relationships, as long as all people involved consent, is only natural. That is how he was even before becoming a druid.

This isn't an attack against you, anon, I know you were asking a genuine question in earnest, but I am so beyond tired of people trying to reinterpret all of the polyamorous characters in this game as actually monogamous people who are afraid/broken. Why do people insist on doing this? Is it that hard to conceive of a character with an alternative sexuality who actually is happy that way?

Let's just set aside the characterization reasons and look at it from a pure logical perspective. Halsin is the one to bring up polyamory with the player. He is the one to say this is a fundamental part of who he is. If the player answers that they don't have the same nature as he does and don't want a polyamorous relationship, the relationship doesn't progress. If Halsin was actually just pretending to be poly to avoid being abandoned, why would he not jump in at that point and go "oh, actually I'm okay with a monogamous relationship too, please don't leave?" Why would he be okay with the player leaving over this part of himself if it wasn't actually part of himself, just a lie he told to avoid being left alone? Because poly is who he actually is, not a lie he tells himself to engage in emotional self-harm.

Further, if he was so desperate not to be alone that he would deny who he is, he would actually be more likely to lie about being monogamous, not the other way around. Most people will flat-out refuse poly relationships (because it's not for them) and even call poly people perverts or cheaters. Halsin has probably forewent many other relationships before just because of this fundamental incompatibility. If he was scared of being alone, he would be far likelier to pretend he was happy with one person, so that he would be able to find a partner without navigating that situation, than he would to pretend to be some identity that already makes it harder to find a partner to begin with, and that often causes intense strain on relationships when mismanaged to the point that it can easily be the cause of many relationships ending.

Being poly isn't something you lie about because you want not to be alone- being poly makes it infinitely harder to find a relationship just by its nature.

Halsin is "poly and traumatized" not "poly because he's traumatized." It is absolutely absurd to deny his repeated statements that this is who he is and what he wants. Again, no offense, anon, and I hope this doesn't upset you, but I really have no patience for attempts to dismiss a core part of Halsin's identity as a maladaptive coping mechanism.

[cherrielatte]

genuine question do you even understand what a proshipper is ? like youre okay with people romanticizing pedophilia and shipping minors and adults ? you think thats okay?? GENUINE question.

Hello! Judging from the way you worded this - I'm gonna be honest: I don't think you know what proshipping is. I was very close to not answering this because it was sounding a bit in bad faith ( and this isn't the first time I've gotten belligerent asks on the same topic) But well, I decided to give it a shot and give benefit of the doubt.

 I know it's common ground to jump onto proshipping with the idea that it means you romanticize pedophilia, abuse, toxicity, etc. It's the typical high ground taken when people hear that dark fiction enjoyers exist. But that's not actually what it means. It just means that YOU, as an individual, understand that a drawing is not the same thing as human being. Written characters are not the same as human beings. Harassing REAL people over a non existent character because they put them into situations that make you uncomfortable says more about the harasser than the writer/artist. Proshipping is about taking personal responsibility for your experience online. Not long ago, the idea of a proshipper was just considered having fandom etiquette (ie: Don't like; Don't read type of tag lines. ) I'm a proshipper and there are plenty of things I don't like & make me uncomfortable. But I also understand that I can easily not engage. I can filter tags so I don't see it. I can block people that make that kind of content. I can refuse to click on something clearly labeled as the content I don't like. I can control what I see. And I can also understand that that if someone draws something I don't like it doesn't mean anything about them in real life nor what they enjoy in real life. Besides, a lot of people that consider themselves proshippers are victims of abuse or have had to endure traumatic events in their lives. Engaging in what you might consider dark fiction allows people to cope and navigate through complex emotion/trauma and express themselves in ways they are not allowed to or haven't allowed themselves to. I've seen some people say "I've been through trauma and I don't engage in proshipping." And okay, I'm happy for you. But not everyone copes the same way you do. And no one should be held to the same standard. If we were all carbon copies of each other, maybe I would understand that argument. But that's not the case. I should also mention, that it's become a bit standard for people to only excuse those that have been through trauma to make dark fiction. But only if they publicly acknowledge what kind of trauma they have endured. I am 100% against this way of thinking. I do not think it is anyone's right to demand an account of my or anyone's personal traumas just to validate the existence of certain piece of art. No one is entitled to anyone's abuse story. If a person is willing to share, because they want to, that's the personal decision of the individual. But look, much of the horror genre (movies, books, tv, etc) wouldn't exist if we put these high censorship rules onto art as a whole and unfortunately, I see this happening more and more these days like discussed in this post about someone's experience in publishing gothic horror.

Going back to an earlier point, you have to really understand that the characters are fake. 100% fake. If I ship Sora ( KH) and Ash (Pokemon) neither of them are going to be upset about it because they don't exist. If I draw them kissing, it is a drawing of anime looking characters kissing. That's all. They don't look anything like real human people. Wasting energy fighting over fictional characters is just that. Wasting time and energy. Who are you saving? Ash? Sora? They don't need help, because they aren't real. Fight for real people that actually exist. I have seen people outside of the Soriku fandom genuinely upset about people shipping Riku x Sora because they are underage! Mostly because they are both male but without fail, they always slap on the argument: "they are kids, you sicko!" But you know why they go to that? Because assuming the moral high ground wins over arguments quickly. People are eager to be superficially perceived as morally good. I have seen people ship Riku x Ansem SOD, which could fall into that age gap - problematic shipping you referred to in your ask. But you know what? I get it. I see people interpret their relationship as one of abuse, metaphorical SA, manipulation, etc. I completely understand and see that interpretation and where it stems from. And unfortunately, there are many people in fandom that have had this exact experience. Honestly, without me needing to ask anyone specifically, I KNOW there are people in fandom projecting their experiences onto Riku and Ansem as a means to replay it with a bit of actual control. And even if there are people who don't. I'm not going to ask, because it's none of my business. So again, as a proshipper I am completely in control of my online experience. I can block, mute, filter, and not engage with the things I don't like or things that trigger me. But as long as it is fiction, it remains as just that : Something I don't like between characters that dont exist. I don't have to harass, bully, nor threaten people over fiction. Of course, there are bad apples in every circle. But to me, whether someone is a bad person or not is expressed through action toward real people and the intentional harm done onto them, whether it be through inappropriate interactions, abuse of any kind, exposing personal information, harassing family/at work, or encouraging harm. Those are real actions on real people and engaging in these actions is what counts to me as markers of a bad person. Not someone drawing two fictional characters that haven't aged in the last 20 years kissing or having sex. 

[not-terezi-pyrope]

Ok. It's pretty clear you are more welcoming of AI, and it does have enough merits to not be given a knee jerk reaction outright.

And how the current anti-ai stealing programs could be misused.

But isn't so much of the models built on stolen art? That is one of the big thing keeping me from freely enjoying it.

The stolen art is a thing that needs to be addressed.

Though i agree that the ways that such addressing are being done in are not ideal. Counterproductive even.

I could make a quip here and be like "stolen art??? But the art is all still there, and it looks fine to me!" And that would be a salient point about the silliness of digital theft as a concept, but I know that wouldn't actually address your point because what you're actually talking about is art appropriation by generative AI models.

But the thing is that generative AI models don't really do that, either. They train on publicly posted images and derive a sort of metadata - more specifically, they build a feature space mapping out different visual concepts together with text that refers to them. This is then used at the generative stage in order to produce new images based on the denoising predictions of that abstract feature model. No output is created that hasn't gone through that multi-stage level of abstraction from the training data, and none of the original training images are directly used at all.

Due to various flaws in the process, you can sometimes get a model to output images extremely similar to particular training images, and it is also possible to get a model to pastiche a particular artist's work or style, but this is something that humans can also do and is a problem with the individual image that has been created, rather than the process in general.

Training an AI model is pretty clearly fair use, because you're not even really re-using the training images - you're deriving metadata that describes them, and using them to build new images. This is far more comparable to the process by which human artists learn concepts than the weird sort of "theft collage" that people seem to be convinced is going on. In many cases, the much larger training corpus of generative AI models means that an output will be far more abstracted from any identifiable source data (source data in fact is usually not identifiable) than a human being drawing from a reference, something we all agree is perfectly fine!

The only difference is that the AI process is happening in a computer with tangible data, and is therefore quantifiable. This seems to convince people that it is in some way more ontologically derivative than any other artistic process, because computers are assumed to be copying whereas the human brain can impart its own mystical juju of originality.

I'm a materialist and think this is very silly. The valid concerns around AI are to do with how society is unprepared for increased automation, but that's an entirely different conversation from the art theft one, and the latter actively distracts from the former. The complete refusal from some people to even engage with AI's existence out of disgust also makes it harder to solve the real problem around its implementation.

This sucks, because for a lot of people it's not really about copyright or intellectual property anyway. It's about that automation threat, and a sort of human condition anxiety about being supplanted and replaced by automation. That's a whole mess of emotions and genuine labour concerns that we need to work through and break down and resolve, but reactionary egg-throwing at all things related to machine learning is counterproductive to that, as is reading out legal mantras paraphrasing megacorps looking to expand copyright law to over shit like "art style".

I've spoken about this more elsewhere if you look at my blog's AI tag.

[anantaru]

what would a situationship with scara be like?

cw. situationship, toxic by britney spears, gn! reader

situationship with scaramouche where he, and such general statement goes without noting further, wouldn't see nor care much about the surprising benefits he got and achieved the moment he spent more time with you— insignificant to how little you saw each other, settling, fleeting instances passing by in a second, strikingly did he not like nor crave the bottling happiness he felt with you, and how could you possibly blame him? when he never felt it before.

while, precisely look before you leap, but the man wasn't particularly as mean to you as you thought he would be, while on the same dime, did scaramouche always make sure that he didn't see this rasping situation with the both of you as anything more than what it actually was.

situationship with scaramouche where he wouldn't reach out to you in days, more often weeks, don't expect him to ask about your day either, treat you to a meal or act interested in any certain topics you might like to share with him out of affecting kindness. following your meet ups, and we will go into this more in depth, but kuni will usually wholly discard any crawling emotions he might perceive during it, and make it his own self protecting duty to part ways with you as soon as possible.

situationship with scaramouche where he will suddenly, in the middle of the night, knock on your door— unannounced and not making sense of anything he would say or declare, already being fully aware that there was no chance in this bloody scenario that you would ever turn him down nor refuse him entrance to your home. it's those mesmerizing eyes, and how he moves his lips slightly to indicate a smile, although fairly fake, it's impressive enough to easily wrap you around his finger.

situationship with scaramouche where he wouldn't engage in loads of small talk with you ever— if anything, he'd absolutely conquer the first chance he'd get to quickly place his lips on top of yours, so neither of you could voice anything. but, beware, he wasn't one to play with nor was the man stupid enough to dispense of everything you'd do. assuming you want to feel that way, scaramouche showers you with a sense of false security and a shadow like sensation of an emotion one might mistake for attraction, or genuine care.

situationship with scaramouche who, in plain sight, found you to be angelic, enchanting and easy on his pair of eyes, yet inwardly he'd think about it, he'd never tell you. from the stronger perception did he fantasize about it too when you weren't with him. you might wonder now how he'd act if you were to do something more reckless, for example, flirt with another person in front of him.

out of spite? perhaps, and maybe playing out the jealousy card wasn't a smart move either, but you were dying to find out if he was saying the truth back then— when he assured you, over and over, that he doesn't care if you were dating or becoming intimate with others aside from him, that you aren't that special to him, or special at all to further prove his false utterance. and never will be anything more in his life.

situationship with scaramouche who steps and contradicts himself within his own manner of thinking, when he notices that you were awfully too comfortable with another person who wasn't him. how dare you, he spat, anger squeezes the air from his lungs.

what he will do now wasn't a traditional, "stepping towards you and telling the person to leave you alone" no, not with him, scaramouche has a different perspective or solution whenever you were stepping away from how he wanted or expected you to act.

he has been at this long enough that he doesn't argue with you, scaramouche knows it'll only make things more complicated and jarring, and he is aware that this loneliness inside of him will forever be around, not even you could conquer it.

it's there, burning, gnawing itself into his cold flesh and limbs, giving him pains, and hurting his wounds. scaramouche recognized that it wouldn't change and even if he attempted to give this a go, between the both of you, he'd rather catch himself dead than messing up something that could become more, genuinely hurting you, even though he wasn't aware that he already did hurt you enough.

at the end of the day, he doesn't see you bawl your eyes out.

situationship with scaramouche who will easily lie and sneakily manufacture a false emergency you cannot cast aside, not when you're entirely stricken with a deep emotion of worry as all of your anxieties came tumbling back towards you, actively bleeding all over your skin as you sigh in despair.

at long last, what you did not expect, was scaramouche who had fooled you yet again and your face hardened, quivering in frustration at this situation you cannot possibly escape. but there was silence now, a gut destroying agony, no further explanations or broods he had even attempted to voice— the dark indigo haired couldn't even fathom that this might be the right way, simply conversation, so easily said yet so tremendously hard to do.

all you had found was the man who drove you insane, again and again, yet you cannot keep your hands off him, it was futile, and he's hiding his true self behind those lies and intrigues— but you get better at it, discerning and listening between his wording, a slow uncoiling of faint resentment flashing before your very eyes.

scaramouche keeps all his secrets untold to you as he touches your warm skin, it's different to his, and he bites down on his bottom lip when he recognizes the pacifying feeling rousing inside his chest again.

for he waits for you to unfold first, what you desire when he kisses your lips, what he was blocking beneath his heart, he cannot make peace with it— it's unspoken when he undresses your body and leaves you vulnerable for his eyes to feast on.

frankly, it was little by little breaking him apart, the possibility that you will be happy and fulfilled with somebody else. scaramouche falls into pieces from within if he wasn't close to you, he touches, kisses, even worships you if it makes you stay.

in the final analysis, he finds solace and melts into it, at the simply fantasy of something that could be more, but never will be more.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

Simon chooses Baz

Bears repeating the extent to which Simon didn't think or process, and thus didn't make choices. He's used to being angry or sad (anger being the one big emotion he's grown sort of "comfortable" with so he defaults to that when faced with other big emotions, such as a homosexual longing or an infuriating troublemaking roommate) but doesn't want to examine the source of those emotions. He's very observant – a lot enters his radar – but his traumatic upbringing makes it so he's used to "hiding everything away in boxes," waiting until he has the tools to figure out what that information means... but it's harder to get there if he avoids processing. This avoidance results in him essentially relinquishing control of his life – he relies on expectations and other people to dictate his life (having roles, instructions, a mission or a map). He has a generally idea of what he wants: he wants to be happy, to have a place in the world – Watford has a place for him, and so it's a place that makes him happy... but outside of that, he doesn't know what he wants. How can he know what might actually make him happy if he refuses to process even the smallest things?...

He relies on everyone else to choose so he doesn't have to.

Even Watford, a place that makes him happy... practically every part of the way he exists in that place is dictated by others. The mage gave him a role and controls Simon's relationship with the world of mages – Simon does and thinks what he's told. Even fighting, which is the one situation where Simon is relying on himself... he's fighting in the way the mage has taught him, and the fact that he even fights at all He relies on Penny to make decisions about everything else in his life – he doesn't even want to make choices about his own clothes (liking that Watford has uniforms and hoping Penny might dress him after school is over). He dates because he's expected to with the kind of person he's been conditioned to believe he would want, which is still not wanting (the genuine want comes from feelings of neglect and inadequacy, of wanting to be like her, and not actually wanting her). And when he dates? everything about the way things go down on the page indicates that he relies on Agatha to make all the choices, too. I'll keep bringing this up because the way people interpret/portray these two has been the most constant source of frustration and disappointment for me: she sets the pace. Part of challenging heteronormativity in these books is that typical expectations of boys and girls explain how Agatha and Simon find themselves dating, but don't actually fit them (I never find anyone doubting Agatha's "I don't want to be here" vibe, but the shit I have seen simply because Simon is a boy, even though he gives the same "I don't wanna be here" vibes, and gives you even more to work with because he has more pages...). Even when he feels like he wants to break up (but hasn't processed enough to identify this like this), he waits until Agatha makes the choice for both of them ("The endgame is when happiness starts" he basically says, implying he hasn't been happy with her, "I waited until Agatha gave up on me" implying he was expecting that to come, among other things... it's not an example of Simon's resilience and fighting spirit, no matter what Simon might think, but of his refusal to make choices for himself, which requires processing) (iirc I have posted about this, it really does require it own post)

Then there's Baz...

Even the way Simon is meant to perceive and engage with Baz has been decided for him, but with Baz, Simon starts to want... little by little, he breaks out of the structure, until he has no choice but to choose.

Simon tries to structure his life with lists, but Baz defies all structure: Simon tells (without telling you, he's a very "show no tell" person) that he misses Baz more than anything he mentions in his "things I like and miss about Watford" (way before he specifically says "I missed him so much every summer") because he keeps thinking about him way before he even brings the list (even in life or death situations, where you expect his mind to go to Penny, his partner in crime... there's Baz. What would Baz do, and Baz is so competent and pretty etc). Baz is there before the list, but he also interrupts it with him, which is also a sign of how his feelings for him can't be contained (way before he specifically expresses he feels like his body is not big enough to contain his feelings for Baz).

He has been told how Baz should be defined in his life (nemesis) but Simon never truly defines him himself until he's asking Baz to be boyfriends ("I want to be your terrible boyfriend"). He resists Penny referring to Baz as "his sworn enemy" ("I didn't swear anything" could sound like he's blaming Baz, but his instinct here is to downplay the perception that Baz is his enemy for real – an instinct that persists whenever Baz tries to refer to himself that way, too.

Simon can't stay away from Baz. Even when he says he is, he isn't. He just varies the intensity with which he follows Baz everywhere – it's painful to be so close (yet so far) but to be completely away from him is more painful. He explains it with the tools he has been given, but the truth is that he just wants to spend time with Baz, to be part of his life and his hobbies. He wants to watch Baz play football. He wants to listen to Baz's music. When something is important for Baz, Simon wants to be there. He wants to know what Baz is up to ("is he plotting?" ... is he thinking about Simon as much as Simon thinks about him?). In that sense, the time Simon spends following Baz everywhere is Simon doing what he wants. It's the one aspect in his life when he's choosing something – no one expects him to be following Baz everywhere all them time, and yet... one might say he's even discouraged from doing this, and yet... (I mean, he's using the time one might dedicate to pursue their own hobbies simply to watch Baz...)

Baz knows what he wants, but he won't choose. He won't dare make the choice that would make him happy – his own traumas stop him. Simon chooses before he figures out what he wants – he figures it out on the go. If he can't help following Baz everywhere because he wants to be part of his life, if he misses Baz terribly when he's not actually rooming with him, what would life be without Baz at all? Before this point, there have been multiple signs indicating Simon that he wants Baz. He has had a taste of being without him, not knowing what happened at all. The certainty of losing him forever is the biggest detonator there is – going against years of conditioning, of not making decisions for himself and by himself, of conforming to roles and expectations, of not processing... Later, he says "I've lost everything but I still have Baz, so I still feel like I've got the better end of the deal." As long as Baz is here... that's Simons' choice.

[justanotherrpmeme]

Don't You Dare Pity Me starters

"Don't you dare pity me, [name]. I can handle my own problems." "I don't need your sympathy, [name]. Keep it to yourself." "Thanks, but I don't want your pity. Just leave me alone." "I appreciate the concern, but I'm not looking for anyone's pity right now." "I'm not some charity case, okay? I don't need your pity." "Save your pity for someone who actually wants it, [name]." "Why can't you people just let me deal with this on my own? I don't need your pity party." "I'd rather suffer in silence than have you shower me with your pity, [name]." "Sympathy won't fix anything, [name]. So just spare me your pity speech." "If you think I'm going to break down and cry, you're wrong. I don't need your pity tears." "I've survived worse than this. I don't need your pity, [name]." "Pity won't change the situation, [name]. So don't bother." "Pity is not what I'm after, [name]. I just want to deal with this my way." "I know you mean well, but I can do without the pity, thanks." "I don't want your pity, [name]. I want solutions, not sympathy." "Save the pity for someone who cares, because I certainly don't, [name]." "I won't be the subject of your pity, [name]. Find someone else to baby."

[REJECT] The receiver reaches out to comfort the sender, but the sender sharply pulls away, refusing any form of physical consolation. [AVOIDANCE] The sender tries to engage in a heartfelt conversation, but the receiver deliberately changes the subject, avoiding any discussion about their troubles. [BRISTLE] The receiver offers a sympathetic look, and the sender responds with a defensive, irritated expression, clearly signaling their discomfort. [SNAP] The receiver innocently asks about the receiver's well-being, and the sender responds with an angry outburst, snapping at them to mind their own business. [DISMISS] The sender expresses concern, and the receiver brushes it off, downplaying the significance of their situation. [REFUSE] The sender offers a kind gesture, and the receiver rejects it outright. [MINIMIZE] The sender expresses understanding, and the receiver minimizes the impact of their struggles, attempting to downplay the severity of the situation. [REPEL] The sender shows genuine care, and the receiver creates emotional distance, repelling any attempts to offer support. [CUT] The sender expresses sympathy, and the receiver cuts them off mid-sentence. [REPEL] The sender attempts a comforting gesture, and the receiver physically recoils. [DEFLECT] The sender asks about the receiver's well-being, and the receiver deflects with humor or sarcasm.

[cherrytreedreams]

How would you describe Klaus and Five's genuine opinions of each other?

hi!!! Must say I’m honored to be getting meta-questions out of the blue . Thank you nonnie. my answer to this question depends on if you’re asking about my fic or about canon, but since you didn’t specify I’m gonna go with canon

I think five was not privy to the worst of klaus’ addiction just by nature of his timetravelling when he did. flashbacks seem to indicate that klaus was already self-medicating by the time five timetravelled, but given them being 13 when he does that, I don’t think klaus could have been doing it for long. a year or two at most. since the flashbacks of klaus in the morgue seem to be (in my mind) an explanation for klaus’ addiction, and he seems to be about 9 or 10 there

I’m in the weeds about this because I think the rest of the siblings’ frustration and irritation with klaus has come from dealing with his addiction for the past ~17 years. it’s established that none of them talk much to klaus in particular, likely because (in my mind) their teen years involved a lot of picking up after/covering for/managing klaus’ life because his addiction makes it impossible for him to do that himself. like, I think the fact that they’re superheroes makes the fact that klaus was getting drunk off of daddy’s liquor preeeetty crazy. If hes drunk on missions, he’s a liability (to both himself and the group), which is I’m sure something that gave them some close calls on the field and thus led to a lot of the resentment the other Hargreeves sibs feel for him. plus the usual, real life, thing of like… having to clean up your high brothers vomit and carry him to bed and lie him on his side so he doesn’t choke & die isn’t like… fun. Regardless of the very real pain klaus was in, that shit sucks

so what im saying is that genuinely part of the reason five is so happy to see klaus in particular when he gets to 2019 is because he was exposed to none of that

and he IS happy to see klaus in particular; he tells him about the apocalypse (which he does to 3 siblings of his own volition: Viktor, Luther and klaus), he opens up to him about delores (something he doesn’t do with ANYONE else) and he actually asks klaus for help (which he also doesn’t do with anyone else in s1 (in s2 he does bug luther for help tho)). plus, we can reasonably conclude the intent was for five and klaus to have a particularly close relationship, because of that released first draft of the pilot episode that has five literally say “the only two people I actually trust here are [viktor] and [klaus].”

so I think that in itself answers this question on five’s end, at least partially: he trusts klaus. at the very least, he trusts klaus with his softer emotions (as evidenced by him telling him about delores) in a way he doesn’t with other people. klaus is emotionally intelligent and knows how to engage with five in a way that doesn’t challenge him too much but also leaves klaus open as someone he can confide in.

he also DOESNT seem to “trust” klaus with: things he deems serious, any kind of fighting, and just generally like taking care of himself. he calls klaus variations of the word “idiot” a lot and he seems to believe it; I, personally, don’t think he’s exaggerating. I think five thinks klaus’ handle on risk-reward assessments is busted, I think five thinks klaus has a penchant for causing problems by accident, and I think five thinks klaus is reckless and doesn’t care for himself. I’ve always thought that part of the reason he asked klaus for help in s1 is because he knew klaus was the only one with the Audacity to do All Of That

I also think five on some level relates to all of that. five himself is an addict with a recklessness problem that gets some kind of sick joy in being the worst version of himself, because it’s easier than self reflection. But I also think five would rather DIE than examine all of that and actively refuses to

HOWEVER, I think klaus is PAINFULLYYY aware of everything I just said ^ re: the ways they are similar. and I think this empathy klaus feels for five allows klaus to see and understand five in a way their other siblings struggle to. like, to klaus the idea that five can be mean & cruel & ruthless AND that he cares about them can coexist, because klaus knows well what it’s like to hurt his siblings and still care about them. klaus knows well what it’s like to be an addict :)

Plus five was the first one to find him after he lost dave. He was knocking on the bathroom door hitting him with that patented old man awkward “u ok?” And I don’t think klaus ever forgot that

so klaus has this fondness for five borne of this empathy he feels for him. five is his tiny baby brother that he lost, but he also seems to kind of rely on him. of all his siblings, he chose five to go with him to see his mother. he even went out of his way to TRICK five to get him to come with. Given that s3 is the Klaus Solving His Daddy Issues Season, and s3 is also utterly preoccupied with drawing parallels between five and Reginald (which is a whole other post), I think the show is telling us that klaus actually feels very safe around five. he feels comfortable around him. He sees the best of their dad in five.

and I do mean that^ very literally. I think five is a lot like their dad and I think klaus craves the affection and approval of men who remind him of his dad and so him seeking out five is, like, the healthier version of whatever he was doing with reggie in s3. I don’t think five realizes this, I think he just thinks klaus seeks him out thoughtlessly for attention and isn’t discouraged when five gets annoyed about it

I also think klaus is very aware of all the ways he and five (and five and their dad) are similar are also reflected in five’s flaws. I think klaus is particularly aware of five’s alcoholism . And I think he’s particularly aware of the discrepancy of how five is viewed (Mean Asshole Who Doesn’t Care) and how he feels (squishy old man who loves his family) is, like, entirely fives own fault. klaus is particularly equipped to be aware of how five is the arbiter of his own fate. on the other hand, klaus also really relates to being misunderstood/seen as crazy by their sibs. So it all ties together.

So I think their relationship is pretty positive, probably as positive as hargreeves sibs get with each other. five confides in klaus and klaus feels safe around five. buuuut they’re also aware of each others flaws, though I think klaus is aware of this (and more accurately) moreso than five. five just gets pissed off at klaus (and if the reasons he gets annoyed have to do with the ways they’re similar, No They’re Not).

I think he genuinely is happy when klaus gets sober (because klaus’ flippancy about life is something about klaus that annoys him(read: scares him because he relates to it(AND because he worries for klaus’ safety))) but klaus’ sobriety makes him think wayyyyyyy too much about how much he drinks which makes him uncomfortable so he tries to think about it as little as possible. Also when he told klaus he was proud of him klaus “I crave approval from my father” Hargreeves reached nirvana I think

Hopefully this was comprehensible, I know I have a tendency to ramble. thanks again for asking my opinion :>

[gojoevers]

UMINEKO??!!

so, I’ve just finished episode 1 of Umineko and the first tea party. I am probably even more confused than I was when I first started - I refuse to put up on reddit my thoughts because it seems everyone posts the same thing when they get this far so under the cut is my initial thoughts, questions and feelings on Umineko episode 1!! I’m hoping I don't make this too long, but I have SO MUCH I need to get out. Please do not read below the cut if you have not finished at least episode one as the post contains spoilers!

so, I’m gonna start with the characters. I absolutely love, love, LOVE this cast.

battler? love of my entire life. he was a character made to fit in my specific niche and I NEED to put him in my mouth. Jessica? my sweet, lovely girl who only deserves the best. maria? I will NOT take maria slander. she's just a kid and I was just like her when I was 9. minus the freaky laughing and like ominous-ness. George? I knew from the second I saw him that he'd be my lawfully wedded wife. enough said.

the parents, I’m a bit more swayed to dislike them, but at the same time, I don’t. I can't really explain my feelings for the parents. I do really like Natsuhi. She deserved more respect, and her conversation with Kinzo when she went to his study was a scene I really enjoyed. Krauss is ugly and he has no right to act the way he does idk he ANNOYED me. Rudolf and Kyrie? Loves of my life, despite what battler expresses about his father, I really like whatever dynamic they have going on, it's entertaining. and Kyrie is just wonderful. Eva, smash, next question. (I love my women MEAN and awful.) Hideyoshi, another sweetheart, like how he will stand up to his wife and take her side and is just a cool guy. also love my delusional king Kinzo. like I said, the scene with Natsuhi was emotional to me, and I thoroughly enjoyed it, it changed my opinion on him for sure. Who’s next? servants? Kumasawa is annoying, I’m sorry. I like how she's held incredibly special to the family, but she'd just not up on my list of faves. same with Ghoda. something about him I just don't like. he's off. Shannon, Kanon, and Genji however, I ADORE them. despite the circumstances, I did like the way we saw Kanon change throughout the chapter, but I didn't really pay much attention to him.

I sobbed like a BABY when George proposed to Shannon, when she was one of the ones said to have gone missing AND when she was found with the ring on her engagement finger. I was distraught - my life was genuinely over. the scene between them was so tender and sweet, and as I’d grown to really like both, it really broke my heart watching him discover her and ask about the ring. like I’m talking crying so hard I wanted to throw up. I could come up with something more constructive about each character we are introduced to but I think I'll leave that for another post.

Now, the actual events we see are a different story. Because what the actual fuck happened. I have no idea. 17 hours of my life and I came out of the tea party with more questions than I started with. What do u mean they all got FUCKED UP at the end and maria wrote a letter asking for someone to find the truth like what the FUCK SHE WAS THERE WHY ARE YOU PISSING ME OFF. I loved the story either way, I went into it expecting a murder mystery with Beatrice as the culprit, but what I got was a mass murder spree mystery with no visuals of Beatrice and probably my favourite ending for a chapter/episode 1.

I think the tea party confused me even more, because it was framed as an OOC, behind-the-scenes bit but... It wasn't? And all the kids are there, Shannon and George have a tender moment but by the end when Beatrice appears and challenges Battler as well as flirts with him (obsessed w her btw), I was just a bit confused? This was our intro to Beatrice? It made no sense to me but I suppose if you view the tea party as simply a continuation/after-story, it checks out. Like the tea party is some purgatory they're in? I still need to watch "???" which I assume is the witches tea party from the point 5 seconds I saw before I passed out.

Overall I think Umineko is the most fun I have ever had reading a Visual Novel. The music is delicious, it has a genuinely amazing cast and story. I am so, so excited to read Episode 2, and hopefully compile my thoughts a little better.

[drdemonprince]

Just chiming in to agree that that person is not a selfish bitch. I'm also really put off by moralistic performances of emotion, and I know in my case it's because it was part of a pattern of abusive behaviour that my mother did.

Anytime you expressed to her that there was a problem with her behaviour, she seemed to genuinely believe that if she put enough effort into weeping and crying on her children's shoulders, and verbally denigrating herself for being an inherently bad an immoral person, and stressing so much that she developed physical illnesses from it, then she could follow that up by asking for forgiveness - as if it would be cruel for us to continue her suffering by denying her that forgiveness. Except that to her, "forgiveness" meant "it's all swept under the rug, I have Atoned By Suffering Guilt, so now it doesn't matter and I can keep doing it again." (I really wonder how much the religious background of her parents' generation came into the formation of this worldview.) And at the same time, she refuses to read news that's "too upsetting" and never engages with literature or media about dark themes "because there's enough of that in real life."

It might be cynical of me to read this pattern into the way people talk online about genocide. But I keep seeing parallels. My perspective is that a) if you're not regulating your emotions well enough to function, then you have less capacity to offer practical help; and b) people who are actually trying to survive genocide want unnecessary human suffering to END, so you're not aligning yourself with that hope by engaging in rumination etc that compounds suffering with not practical benefit to anyone.

But also, watching my mother's behaviour has led me to add perspective c) that a lot of people (in Christian cultures?) haven't developed enough understanding of the complexity of the world and how to relate to it, and genuinely believe that an overblown emotionally affected reaction, followed by helplessness and thereby inaction, is the only possible way for them to respond when they're confronted with upsetting information that demands action from them. Being raised to think in a black-and-white "good vs evil" dichotomy, and thinking about people as "either morally good or morally bad" rather than thinking about people as neutral and behaviours as either ethically helpful or harmful... it doesn't give them a conceptual framework to integrate upsetting information and then carry on getting things done, it's like their moral anxiety gets them stuck and that keeps the emotions escalating.

I see people discussing this pattern in the context of religious trauma, and in the context of the cultural construct of "whiteness" - the discovery of something morally bad has to be followed by an extreme emotional reaction that basically amounts to protesting your own innocence and helplessness to deny responsibility for your direct behaviours (in my mother's case) or complicity in a corrupt system (in the case of overwhelmed average people learning about genocide).

Maybe I'm rambling more than I'm analysing here, but the comparison stands out a lot to me and it's troubling to watch.

yo anon no this is gold, thank you for sharing. This is remarkably astute.

I will add the quick caveat that hyperempathic people who are debilitated by their sensitivity exist, of course, and have very real struggles and none of this is intended to denigrate them. In practice, their behavior can have the impact of silencing criticism or distracting from the issue at hand but being wired that way certainly does not doom a person to behaving in a counterproductive, manipulative manner.

This critique is more about performative over the top empathy as a tactic (conscious or not) of offloading responsibility, and as a pseudo-religious ideology that makes predominately white western cultures particularly ill-equipped to deal with the consequences of their global plundering. almost certainly by design. Most moral teachings that we encounter in the west promote this tactic and ideology, and it gets very deeply ingrained in most us if we don't devote a ton of attention to uprooting it.

thanks for this great response.