#in case it wasn’t clear this doesn’t apply when you are an expert in whatever sense and I am not

[loki-zen]

i don’t want this to feel like a dig at anyone specific (but it’s hard when you have my kind of memory/brain, that will be prompted to think/write about such things only when an example has recently come up), but tumblr pet peeve of mine:

when I mention something, or in particular when I mention not knowing the answer to something or pondering something, and somebody chimes in with “well, I took five minutes to google about it (or five minutes to wildly speculate hypothesise about it), and it’s probably this!”

because.. and like if we don’t really know each other i guess you have no way of knowing this, but. I can google. I have a postgraduate degree in looking shit up, as it happens. I can speculate. If it’s on my mind enough to Post about it, then I almost certainly have done all of that already.

And I’m really interested in what you have to say! But only if you’ve put at least as much thought/effort into it as I have. and ideally more, so I can learn things from you!

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k 

… 

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. 

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳  or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux 

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

.

.

.

It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.  

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.  

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -”  You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.  

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.  

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.  

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

.

.

.

They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.  

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.  

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.  

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”  

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.  

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.  

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.  

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a  professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.  

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally. 

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state -  a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.  

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves. 

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened. 

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly. 

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp. 

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves. 

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence. 

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

.

.

[vivithefolle]

Not sure if you already talked about this. (I’m pretty sure you have) but someone seemed to notice that when the trio get into fights, Hermione’s always in the right. Even when she’s supposed to be wrong she always seems to be half right. That kind of bothers me. Especially since it’s evident in the whole Scabbers situation.

I have indeed, on Quora, so let’s move yet another answer of mine to Tumblr!

Hermione is seldom wrong in the Harry Potter books. Sometimes she makes mistakes but those mistakes are either completely swept under the rug or downright ignored.

It’s partly due to lazy writing and partly due to Rowling’s own growing bias in favour of her Author Avatar that was fuelled by Steve Kloves, the primary advocate of the Hermione Granger Is The Perfect Girl Ever line of thinking (an utterly ridiculous line of thinking mind you).

Lizo: Steve, Hermione is a character that you have said is one of your favorites. Has that made her easier to write?

Steve: Yeah, I mean, I like writing all three, but I've always loved writing Hermione. Because, I just, one, she's a tremendous character for a lot of reasons for a writer, which also is she can carry exposition in a wonderful way because you just assume she read it in a book. If I need to tell the audience something...

JKR: Absolutely right, I find that all the time in the book, if you need to tell your readers something just put it in her. There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue. One is Hermione, the other is Dumbledore. In both cases you accept, it's plausible that they have, well Dumbledore knows pretty much everything anyway, but that Hermione has read it somewhere. So, she's handy.

Now this, right here, is the exact core of the problem.

Rowling herself admits it: if she wants the readers to have information, she puts Hermione in the scene. Hermione is our primary means of exposition because, like *grits teeth* Sssssteve puts it, it’s easy to assume that she’s read about it somewhere and it makes sense.

That’s all well and good but at first, if you notice, Ron also gave us exposition about the wizarding world, mostly about its culture. He was able to recall the exact year of the Wizarding Confederation that outlawed dragon breeding in Philosopher’s Stone! He explained what were respectively a “Mudblood”, a “Squib”, and Parseltongue, Hermione doing a little exposition about the history of that last one! He was also able to identify Sirius, after being dragged into the Whomping Willow, as an Animagi!

But then Goblet of Fire happens and you can notice the first change that will exponentially grow through the books: instead of Ron, pureblood Ron, born-before-the-end-of-the-war Ron, lived-through-the-aftermath-of-the-war Ron, identifying the Dark Mark, it’s instead Hermione, muggleborn Hermione, lived-as-a-Muggle-for-most-of-her-life Hermione, has-no-idea-about-the-emotional-impact-of-the-Mark Hermione who looks terrified as the Dark Mark shoots into the sky!

And it only will get worse, by the end of the series, Hermione pretty much knows about everything the plot needs her to know, instead of having to work with things she knows but can’t always apply to the situation:

Suddenly has a deep knowledge of Magical Law (in the will of Dumbledore’s chapter, while we had Rufus Scrimgeour who could have provided it to us, or to a lesser extent, Ron could have explained how a wizarding will basically worked)

Is suddenly an expert at finding edible plants and mushrooms. Apparently books are always the goddamn answer in JKR’s world, you can literally learn anything from them

She can decipher all the Tales of Beedle the Bard (may I remind you that they were written in Runes, okay Hermione may have a few years of Ancient Runes education BUT I once tried to translate a 3k+ story I had written for fun, from French to English, which means I knew what the subtleties and intentions were, I knew which turns of phrase I had to preserve so it would make sense in the end, and it still took me two gruelling weeks to get a satisfying result!)

Has suddenly grown a sense of quick-thinking (escaping Xenophilius’ house, using the jinx to make Harry’s face weird-looking) despite it being the only remaining flaw she had at the time (remember when she turned her back on her enemy while he was still conscious just to compliment Harry, and almost died as a result, even though she had been training in the DA to learn how to fight Death Eaters?) Quick-thinking under pressure can be learned, but it takes time and a lot of work to force your brain to override its instinct - and it’s fine because we’re all human and different. But no suddenly Hermione is the Greatest Strategist Evah™ and those silly boys (who actually were the original quick-thinking ones, and one of them was established as the strategist early on) better be grateful for this literal goddess because she protects them from all harm with her superhuman brain.

Somehow knows about Quidditch stuff - she knows about a Snitch’s “memory-touch”. Why should she give all the answers? Why can’t Ron give us this particular tidbit of information?

And then when we come to something Ron actually knows, the damn narration itself goes “woah a book that Ron has read but Hermione hasn’t??? shocking!! incredible!! Ron is not dumb, somebody call the news channel”. But… is that really so surprising? We’ve never seen Hermione read wizarding fiction or even Muggle fiction. We’ve never seen Hermione with anything other than schoolbooks in her hands. Of course Ron has read books she hasn’t read since she doesn’t seem to read fiction at all!

Sorry, bit of a tangent over here.

There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue.

So, that’s one part of the problem: the fact that Rowling, after making Ron our insight into magical culture and Hermione our provider of knowledge, ended up saying “eh whatever I guess Hermione can tell us everything we gotta know because it’s more convenient for me”. Which is a decision that was not based on Hermione’s character, but simply lazy writing. Long story short, it probably went: “Could Ron explain this bit of trivia? Meh, better make Hermione say it cause she’ll have read it in a book. It’s convenient and I won’t need to bother myself with exploring Ron’s characterisation.”

(And thus completely forgetting that Ron could maybe ask his big brothers via owl and provide us with a good heap of extra advanced knowledge - Bill is supposed to have aced his NEWTs after all.)

The other part of the problem is quite simply that Hermione is more often than not, either painted as a victim by the narrative (which makes more people take her side, classic manipulation tactic), or made to be right anytime it’s about a plot point.

Hermione’s mistakes are never explicitly stated, corrected, or even pointed out as being unethical.

Hermione only gets one mistake expressedly pointed out as being a mistake: her misadventure in Polyjuice Potion. The rest of them? Even her crush on Lockhart can’t be counted as a mistake - people get crushes all the time, based solely on physical appearance, it’s not something awful or terrible (Except when it’s Ron who crushes on someone. Ron crushing on someone is absolutely forbidden, and he must be punished with much ridicule and humiliation if he thinks he can get away with not worshipping Hermione like the goddess she is. The nerve of him, really.).

Throughout the books Hermione eventually morphs into Rowling’s Powerful Angel of Vengeance, that punishes the people who dared to do something she disliked - Rita is silenced but at a very ethically dubious price; Marietta gets scarred for life because she was more loyal to her mother than to a bunch of people her friend insisted she hang out with; Umbridge is led to a very, very alarming fate that is never made clear but some people have ideas and they’re not all very kid-friendly; Ron first is “helped” without knowing it because Hermione can’t be bothered to have faith in his capabilities, then when he fails to dutifully reward her for “helping” him, she causes him bodily harm before actively bullying him for not mind-reading her interest in him; causes even more bodily harm to Ron because that’s how feminism works; etc.

Hermione’s mistakes are always justified through the plot itself (which is lazy writing).

Turning into a cat? Only affects her.

The Firebolt? Scabbers? Well, in the end, it was really sent by Sirius Black and Crookshanks really wasn’t the culprit. Therefore all the feelings that were hurt and all the trust lost are irrelevant because Hermione was right all along.

Trying to free the house-elves? Well, it’s the intent that counts, right? And we’re never told enough about house-elf lore to know whether they’re poor brainwashed victims or powerful Penate-like symbiotes who need to serve a wizard to survive?

Kidnapping Rita Skeeter, trapping her and blackmailing her? Rita may be one foul little beetle, but that’s going a bit far, isn’t it? Harry approves? Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then…? A main character can’t have a dubious morality, right?

Manipulating Harry into forming Dumbledore’s Army and forcing him to relive a traumatic event with the same woman she’s kidnapped and blackmail and that she knows he hates? In the end, it all works out for the best and Harry’s hurt feelings don’t matter since it’s all about the greater good.

Using the centaurs to get rid of Umbridge (which poses the highly distressing question of what did the centaurs do to her?), realizing that the centaurs aren’t nice little horsies that are going to gently obey her every orders like good Disney princess’ companions, my goodness could this be an opportunity for character growth - nevermind, here comes Grawp the Giant Ex Machina, saving her arse and protecting Hermione from all that scary possibility of introspection. Thanks, Grawp Ex Machina.

Trying to dissuade a highly stressed-out and irrational Harry from rescuing Sirius by telling him exactly what he needed not to hear, a.k.a. “you have a saving people-thing” which causes Harry to completely go bonkers and go save his godfather without thinking twice? Well she was right after all, it was a trap! Nevermind how mind-boggingly insenstive and inadept at dealing with someone else’s feelings she was being, she was right! That means it wasn’t Hermione’s mistake!… probably. (Geez, I’m sensing a pattern here…)

Endangering Cormac’s life (Confunding him WHILE HE’S ON HIS BROOM) to promote Ron’s success? Oh but that’s so romantic! (Yeaaaah, how romantic to display exactly how much faith you lack in your crush. Top it off with a broken neck and that’s a picture perfect first date!)

Assaulting Ron with magic and causing him even more scars than he already had? But he was being cold with her first, right? And he totally should have known she was asking him out! It’s not like her invitation was even worse than his attempt to ask her out two years earlier! Plus she’s just a teenage girl expressing her emotions, anyone who tries to find fault in this is a disgusting abusive misogynist pig! Ha!

Getting all jealous that Harry is better than her at Potions, then pretending she’s not jealous by claiming that TEH BOOK IS EVIL, HARRY, and giving him the cold shoulder too? But no, she’s right, look, Harry used Sectumsempra and he almost killed Draco, nevermind that he’s very horrified about it! Hermione was right, like she always is!

Hermione Obliviating her parents, which pulls her from the “ethically dubious” zone into the “wow okay I’m pretty sure that this counts as a violation of basic human rights” zone, makes her one of those quirky wizardfolk who have the privilege to control those simple-minded Muggles because it’s for the greater good? But nooo she’s crying about it so it’s obviously very sad and angsty and it shows her devotion to the cause!

Splinching Ron while fleeing from the Ministry? Eeeh, but he’s fine, they’ve got Dittany, he’s good as new!… blood loss? Anaemia? What’s that?

Hermione was wrong about the Deathly Hallows not existing? Um, um, that doesn’t matter, LOOK DOBBY IS DEAD AND HARRY IS BACK TO LOOKING FOR THE HORCRUXES!! Therefore Hermione was right, the Hallows weren’t important for their quest, therefore the Hallows might as well not exist, HERMIONE WAS RIGHT NO REALLY I’VE GOT RECEIPTS -

The books never forget to remind Harry and Ron of their own shortcomings and moments of weakness.

Harry’s wrath and recklessness cost Sirius his life. This is the lesson he has to learn from his entitled behaviour in OotP: actions have consequences, and the greater your responsibility, the greater the cost will be.

Ron’s envy and insecurity lead him astray; they’re used to humiliate, ridicule and torture him throughout the books. They’re supposed to teach him that he’s worth something - but how is he supposed to believe that, when nobody ever tells him he’s worth anything? When nobody ever apologizes to him? When his feelings are taken for granted over and over? When his two friends seem to discard him whenever he does one thing wrong?

Hermione is never punished. Hermione is never said to be wrong, never shown to be wrong, never called out on her behaviour. From Prisoner of Azkaban to mid-Deathly Hallows, she stays exactly the same character. She doesn’t grow up. She doesn’t learn. She doesn’t change. She has virtually no character arc.

The only time, THE ONLY TIME IN SEVEN BOOKS, the only time we have something remotely resembling a call-out of Hermione’s horrible behaviour is with this sole quote in HBP:

Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.

Note how it’s about “girls” and not Hermione in particular, which implies that any girl would do what Hermione does to Ron. Thanks for the generalization, JKR, but I like to believe I’m actually a decent sort of person that doesn’t resort to petty cruelty and exploits my friends’ insecurities whenever I’m angry with them.

Hermione NEVER has to apologize. Hermione NEVER has to learn from her mistakes because she’s always presented as a victim when she really isn’t. Hermione NEVER develops into something more - she’s emotionally stuck at fourteen years old. Even less than that when you consider that her reaction to Ron’s return in Deathly Hallows is to trash him with her fists - and she was going to get her wand!! The utter psychopathic b- wanted TO THROW BIRDS AT HIM AGAIN!!! - and this reaction is an appropriate one for a four-years old girl, but certainly not for a supposedly “mature” seventeen-years old.

(Yes, because what separates a child from an adult is the ability to reign in your emotions and not succumb to your impulses. Exactly what Ron did when he left the tent (notice that he had drawn his wand, then he left before he could start hexing Harry), he left to calm himself down. Exactly what Hermione fails to do when Ron returns (she has the impulse to strike him and immediately succumbs to it, which proves to us that The Brightest Witch Of Her Age has all the maturity of a very small child).)

All of that, on top of the awful portrayal in the movies which removes all of Ron’s characteristics to stuff them into Hermione and turns her into some impossible epitome of perfection, eventually contributed to the portrayal of Hermione as the one who is always right and knows everything.

Add to it JKR’s own ridiculous bias (“Ron was quite emotionally immature compared to the other two”, yeah right I don’t see him trying to force freedom onto unwilling creatures or making Harry fly into an irrational rage with mere words but you do you, Jo) and the sexist misconception that “girls are innately more mature than boys”, and you get yourself this apparent behemoth of righteousness that was literally the sole reason why those two silly boys survived everything, and don’t you dare criticize this angel of perfection OR ELSE.

[hmsjiara]

‘cause you’re amazing (just the way you are) jj + kie

request by @love-life-always​: We never really hear anything about Kiara's kook year, so I was wondering if you could write a story where Kiara had an eating disorder during her kook year, while trying to fit in and stuff but she managed to recover when she became friends with the pogues again, but then for whatever reason it starts to affect her again and jj/the other pogues notice.

this turned into one big angsty mess real quick lol. but protective!jj is my kink, so... here you go lmao. thank you so much for the request, i hope you like it :)

read it here on ao3.

disclaimer: i understand that eating disorders are a serious/complex issue and am NOT trying to romanticize them in any way. and while i did some research before writing this, i am in no way an expert nor have i ever experienced something like this. so, if any part of this is inaccurate or ignorant i apologize. if this triggers you in anyway, please do what’s best for your mental/emotional health.

trigger warnings: eating disorders, panic attacks, brief mentions of abuse.

                                      •••

It was an unspoken rule among the Pogues that they didn’t talk about Kiara’s Kook Year.

It hadn’t always been that way. When Kiara had returned to the Chateau with a years worth of apologies and a case of Miller Lite, John B and Pope had forgiven her almost instantly, but not JJ. Weeks of veiled insults and sharp glares had followed, and despite John B and Pope’s efforts to sway him, JJ seemed determined to hate her forever.

But eventually, even he managed to forgive her for abandoning them. Kiara assumed that it was a combination of her constant presence, and the boobs and curves she’d developed during her Kook Year. She couldn’t really blame them for noticing, since they were horny teenage boys and she spent the majority of her time in a bikini.

So, things went back to normal, and the Pogues caught on to the fact that Kiara didn’t want to discuss her absence, or her exile from the Kook Academy. It was easier this way, she told herself. Talking about Sarah still hurt too much, and as for everything else... well, it wasn’t important.

So, she doesn’t talk about Sarah, about how they got drunk and watched movies and saved baby sea turtles together, how her heart aches when she thinks about her. She doesn’t talk about the girls at the Kook Academy who spread rumors behind her back, who shove her in the hallways and on one occasion dump a smoothie on her head in the cafeteria. She deletes the mean comments under her Instagram posts before the Pogues can see, because she doesn’t need them to defend her, and the last thing she wants is to explain why everyone hates her so much.

Because she just got her friends back, and Kiara isn’t going to burden them with her problems, not when they have it so much worse.

                                        •••

The words eating disorder cause a certain kind of alarm to go off in Kiara’s brain.

Because yes, there’d been those months at the Kook Academy where she’d gone from diet to diet, weighed herself after every meal, looked at the girls in her grade with their flat stomachs and thin, long legs and hated her curves and muscle-toned limbs. She’d followed all the trends— juice cleanses and swearing off anything over a hundred calories. She even stopped surfing, switched to running, wondering if it would make a difference.

Her mother’s comments hadn’t helped. Once Kiara was going to parties and sleepovers with Sarah, her mom started buying her clothes that were two sizes too small, handing her grapefruit halves in the morning when Kiara asked for eggs and bacon, shot pointed glares at the half-eaten box of cookies on her dresser.

So, she started just... not eating. It was almost too easy to do. All she had to do was say that she was running late for school and skipping breakfast, snack on celery sticks for lunch, tell her parents she had homework to avoid coming to dinner. And it had worked: she’d gotten thinner, and her mother smiled when she started wearing the clothes she’d bought her, so Kiara assumed it was fine.

It was a visit to her doctor that made Kiara realize that what she was doing to herself was wrong. There’d been no official diagnosis, just a few pointed questions about her daily food intake, a suggestion to incorporate more protein into her diet. But Kiara had read between the lines, and she’d gotten over it, moved on, recognized that what she was doing wasn’t how she wanted to live her life. And she hadn’t told anyone, especially not the Pogues, because it was her business and they didn’t need to know.

The problem is that sometimes Kiara forgets to catch herself.

Like when she spends a little too long looking at her stomach in the mirror, or when JJ offers her the rest of his fries at the Wreck and she wrinkles her nose and says too many carbs.

He frowns, presses a hand to her forehead, as if checking for a temperature. “Too many carbs? Who are you, and what have you done with Kiara Carrera?”

She laughs, shoves him away from her, goes to get another beer from the fridge, but JJ is still watching her when she gets back. “I didn’t know you cared about that sort of stuff.”

“What do you mean?” She asks, avoiding his gaze as she knocked John B’s feet off of the counter.

“Calories and shit,” he said with a shrug, and it was a perfectly reasonable remark, but Kiara didn’t like the direction their conversation was going in. “Is this something you picked up from the Kooks? You turning into one of those soccer moms who meal plan and don’t let her kids eat sugar?”

It hits a little too close to home, so Kiara snatches a fry from his basket and makes sure that he sees her eat it.

“There,” she said, chewing somewhat obnoxiously. “Happy now?”

JJ rolled his eyes, turned to listen to whatever Pope was saying about his internship, but Kiara couldn’t help but feel like she’d dodged a bullet.

JJ couldn’t find out. Not now, not ever.

                                       •••

Being forced to attend Midsummers is the last thing Kiara needs or wants, but her mother doesn’t care.

She thinks it’s how she copes. Kiara can hang with whoever she likes, as long as her mother can put her in a pretty dress and show her off to the Kooks.

The subtle, pointed comments start again.

Take it in a bit on the hem, Silvia. I’m not used to this, you know. I never had Kiara’s curves when I was younger.

I know that your friends don’t have to worry about this, Kiara, but you have a figure to maintain. Eating at the Wreck every night just isn’t going to fly.

Maybe a side salad instead, sweetheart. I’m paying the seamstress by the hour.

Kiara’s not proud of it, but she does go along with her mother, because she’s tired of fighting with her, and the idea of her daughter going to Midsummers with all the Sarah Cameron’s of the world has made her happier than Kiara has ever seen her.

She tells herself it’s only for a couple of weeks, that she can get through it, but it’s getting harder to ignore the comments, to resist the urge to weigh herself after a bag of popcorn or a sandwich from the Wreck.

Before, when she was friends with Sarah, it was easier to hide. Sarah didn’t really notice other people— it wasn’t her fault, just how she’d been raised.

The Pogues are different.

At first, they buy all the usual excuses. She’s not hungry, she already ate. But then John B asks her to split a burger with him at the Wreck, or Pope roasts her a s’more and she refuses, and they start to notice.

One time, Kiara buys a new kind of green tea ice cream from the grocery store, and she eats it all in one sitting, calories be damned.

JJ laughs, nudges John B. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Damn, Kie.”

It’s a joke, a passing comment, but Kiara flinches, feels a sudden surge of regret. Shit. Her mother was going to kill her.

JJ sees it, because of course he does, and then his teasing grin disappears and he gives Pope and John B a knowing look.

Pope looks instantly uncomfortable as John B clears his throat, and Kiara doesn’t like it one bit. She feels cornered, suddenly on edge, as John B opens his mouth and says, “Kie, is everything okay? With you, I mean?”

“Of course,” she says, shrugging, the deflection easy. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, it’s just—“

“You’re not fucking eating.”

Kiara flinches for real this time at JJ’s harsh, blatant tone, her stomach hollowing out as John B hisses JJ’s name and says this isn’t what we talked about.

Oh, so they’re talking about her now. Wonderful.

“Fuck this,” she says, springing to her feet, the empty ice cream cartoon and metal spoon clattering to the floor. She feels sick just looking at it. “Y’all are— y’all are delusional, okay? I’m out.”

“Kie, it’s okay,” Pope says, his eyes on the floor. “Millions of people have, uh, stuff like this, you know, it’s not—“

“I do not have a eating disorder,” Kiara growls at him, ignoring Pope’s own flinch, how he curls in on himself at her words. “Your statistics don’t apply to me, okay, Pope? You have no idea what’s going on.”

“Kie, we’re just trying to help—“

“Fuck you, John B,” she says, turning to leave, not able to stand the pity on his face.

“No,” JJ snarls, rising from his chair, clutching the neck of his beer bottle so hard she thinks it might shatter. “I’ve had enough. Do you know that’s the most I’ve seen you eat in weeks? Something’s wrong, Kie, we’re not idiots, okay? So just tell us—“

“I don’t have to tell you shit, Maybank,” she snaps, the pit in her stomach filling itself with something cold and bitter. “This is my business, just like whatever the fuck is happening with your dad is yours. So leave me alone.”

She regrets the words as soon as she says them, but it’s too late, because JJ’s beer bottle shatters and John B yells as alcohol and shards of glass scatter across the floor, and Kiara is out the door before any of them can make her stay.

They’re just worried, she knows that, but it’s fine. She has it handled.

                                      •••

In reality, it’s the opposite of fine.

Kiara avoids the Pogues in the week leading up to Midsummers, ignores the texts they send her asking her to meet, actually hides when John B comes to find her at the Wreck.

She tells herself she just has to get through Midsummers, and then it’ll all work itself out.

The stress makes it worse, she thinks, and in between her anxiety over the Pogues and her mother’s pre-Midsummers prep, Kiara doesn’t realize that she can’t remember the last time she ate until she’s pulling up to the club with her parents.

It’s kind of like a wake up call, the shakiness in her limbs and the empty feeling in her stomach, and the next thing she knows, she’s hyperventilating over the sink in the girls bathroom.

It’s hard to breathe, and the heavily perfumed air definitely isn’t helping, and her mother is going to kill her, and Kiara doesn’t even know how it got this bad again. She doesn’t look too thin in the mirror, at least not to her, but what do other people see?

She’s not quite sure how, but she manages to find her phone in her clutch, to fumble through typing in her password and locating Pope’s contact.  

He answers on the first ring.

“Kie? Is everything okay? Where are you?”

He’s obviously concerned, and she feels like such an idiot, because she spent the past week pushing him and everyone else away when all they wanted to do was help her.

“Bathroom,” she manages to say, fighting to speak past the tightness in her throat. “In— Inside. Pope, I can’t breathe, I can’t—“

“Okay, Kie, it’s okay,” he murmured, sounding surprisingly calm. “Fuck, I’m working, I can’t leave. But I’m gonna help you, okay? Just breathe. Give me one second—”

The call ended, and Kiara tried not to panic anymore than she already was, but it was a relief when Pope’s name appeared on her phone screen again.

“Pope?” She asks, his name more of a sob than anything.

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, Kie, you’re gonna be fine. You’re not hurt, right?”

She shakes her head, then remembers that he can’t see her, and confirms that she’s fine (physically, at least) through the phone. Pope keeps doing that, asking her questions in a low, level voice, until she hears a knock on the bathroom door.

“Pope, is that you at the door?” She asks, clutching her phone tighter in her hand, any sense of control she’d managed to regain vanishing.

“No, it’s—“

“Kie? Kie, are you in there?“

She doesn’t know why, but the sound of JJ’s voice makes her crumble. She can still hear Pope talking to her through the phone, hear JJ on the other side of the door, but it’s like it’s all coming from very far away. Her breathing picks up again, and she barely registers JJ’s fuck it, I’m coming in.

His knock on the stall door jerks her back into reality. “Kie? It’s JJ, can you open the door?”

With shaking hands, she grapples with the lock, automatically shrinking away when light floods the stall and she sees JJ staring down at her.

She must look like a mess— sitting on the floor of the bathroom in her dress, mascara running, like some girl who just got dumped by her boyfriend at a party. But she can’t really bring herself to care about that, because she still can’t seem to get enough air into her lungs.

“JJ,” she whimpers, because he’s just standing there like he doesn’t know what to do, some raw emotion in his eyes she can’t bring herself to decipher right now.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” JJ says, snapping out of whatever trance he’d fallen into at the sight of her, his movements slow as he crouches down beside her, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Take it easy, okay, Kie? Just breathe.”

He takes the phone from her, has a brief conversation with Pope, then hangs up and pockets it. Kiara doesn’t object, staring at her hands and trying to stop herself from shaking.

“Can I?” JJ asks, and she realizes he’s asking to hold her hands.

She nods, and then his warm, calloused fingers are brushing against her skin as he rubs soothing circles into the back of her palms. Her heart rate isn’t slowing, though, her breaths coming quick and fast again, but then JJ’s arms are around her and he’s pulling her back against his chest and murmuring reassurances into the top of her head.  

He tells her to copy his breathing, and she does, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against her shoulder, the fact that his hands are still holding hers.

Eventually, her breathing returns to normal, and her anxiety is replaced by exhaustion. She sags against JJ, closes her eyes, relaxes into his warmth.

The next thing she remembers is JJ guiding her into the passenger seat of the van and bucking her seatbelt. It’s easy to trust him, to let her eyes slip closed and listen to the steady, familiar hum of the engine.

Kiara doesn’t ask where they’re going, and she must fall asleep at some point, because then she’s waking up in the driveway at the Chateau. She ignores JJ’s offered hand and stumbles out of the van, tugging off her heels the moment she gets inside and collapsing onto the pullout couch.

She doesn’t want to move ever again, content to fall asleep right there, exhaustion heavy in her bones, but JJ takes one look at her and pulls her to her feet. He takes her to the bathroom, turns the shower on and places a hand on her back to guide her inside. He asks if she wants him to stay. She says no, because JJ’s already looking at her like she’s a wounded animal, and she doesn’t want him to think that she can’t do anything by herself.

Even if she almost has another panic attack once he leaves, has to remind herself to breathe as she undresses and steps into the shower. The hot water helps, and she loses track of time standing in the spray. She never hears the door open, but when she gets out there’s a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt on the counter.

She puts them on, drys her hair with a towel but leaves it down, too exhausted to do anything else. The sweatshirt smells like JJ, and she breathes it in. She doesn’t want to think about what it means. She can have a pass tonight, she figures.

When she opens the door, the hallway smells like cooking oil and burnt toast. She wrinkles her nose, pads into the living room on silent feet, and she thinks JJ might be right to treat her like a skittish animal, because when she walks into the kitchen and sees the plate of eggs and toast on the table, she wants to run back inside the bathroom.

JJ seems to recognize her urge to flee, because he pats the seat across from him and gives her a pointed look. “Sit down, Kie.”

She complies, because she kind of owes him, and JJ actually managed to cook something without burning the house down, so that’s a miracle in it itself.

“It’s no five-star Kiara Carrera creation, but it’ll have to do,” he tells her, smiling at her as she sits down. “I only know how to cook breakfast— sorry.”

He seems almost embarrassed, but Kiara doesn’t see why. “No, I love it,” she tells him, and he just stares at her, as if he thinks she’s lying. “Really, I do.”

He grins at her then, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the Chateau, and then JJ’s digging into his own food like a starving stray dog who hasn’t had a real meal in weeks.

It smells great, even though the toast is a little burnt, and Kiara is starving, but she still hesitates before picking up her knife.

JJ notices it, because of course he does. “Eat, Kiara,” he says, his tone soft but firm. “You need it. Please.”

It’s the please that gets her. She takes a cautious bite of toast, which is burnt on one side by covered in butter. It settles in her stomach, warm and filling, and before she realizes it, she’s scraping her plate clean.

JJ doesn’t say anything, but there’s a gleam or triumph in his eyes when he takes her empty plate from her and places it in the sink.

She was exhausted before, but the food’s made her drowsy, and Kiara stumbles into John B’s room while JJ is washing the dishes. He’s not home, but she decides to wait until tomorrow to worry about it, if she has to. As well as a bunch of other things— like what the hell her mother is going to do with her.

Kiara’s muscles feel like they’re made out of lead as she collapses onto the bed. She’s exhausted, but her thoughts aren’t stopping, and it’s a relief when JJ appears in the doorway.

“You good?” He asks, and she hums into her pillow, not opening her eyes.

But then the floorboards creak as he turns to leave, and she doesn’t know what makes her do it, but she calls his name.

“Yeah?” JJ says, and she opens her eyes this time, studying his silhouette in the doorway, all soft lines and tousled blond curls.

“Will you stay?” She asks, before she can consider what it means, how he’ll interpret it. “I just... I don’t want to be alone right now.”

But JJ just nods, moving to the other side of the bed and lying a respectable distance away from her. He closes his eyes immediately, but Kiara can’t seem to relax. They’ve slept in the same bed before, but this feels different. Heavier.

“JJ?” She murmurs into the silence, and he hums to show that he’s listening. “Thank you. For tonight, I mean.”

“S’ no problem, Kie,” he says, his words slurred by exhaustion, eyelids drooping as he turned to look at her. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, picking at her nail polish to avoid meeting his gaze. “I know. It’s just... it’s hard, ya know? I didn’t want to bother any of you, God knows you have enough shit to deal with without me piling my own on top of it, and it wasn’t that big of a deal, I swear—”

“Kie, your shit is my shit,” JJ said, his voice firm as he reached out to take her hand. She brushed her fingers over his knuckles, comforted by the familiar pattern of the cracks and scars that had stayed there even after his cuts had healed. “I’m not going anywhere. And this... whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. All of us— John B and Pope too.”

Kiara nodded, and it was silent for a while, but then she said, “I’m sorry. About what I said, about your dad. I was out of line, and I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” JJ said, shrugging, his fingers squeezing hers in reassurance. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, but... it’s just scary, Kie. It was like I was watching you slip away right in front of me, and I didn’t know how to stop it.”

Kiara didn’t know what to say to that, so she just tucked herself into his side, pressing her face into his shoulder as JJ wrapped an arm around her. Their fingers were still intertwined, resting on his chest.

“Kie,” he said after a while, when she was on the brink of sleep. “I shouldn’t have to say it, but... you know you’re fucking beautiful, right? Just the way you are. You don’t have to—

“Thanks, JJ,” Kiara whispered before he could finish, her voice catching. She told herself not to cry, but a few tears escaped anyway. JJ wiped them from her cheeks, wove his fingers into her hair, running them through her wet curls.

“No, I’m serious, you’re like really hot, I—“

Kiara laughed, swatting at his arm, even though there was no real force behind it. There was a certain warmth rising in her chest, as she breathed in JJ’s scent and fell asleep in his arms. She didn’t quite know what it was, but it was new, and she liked it.

Far more than she should have.

                                      •••

It’s better after that. Not perfect, not right away, but better.

She explains everything to the Pogues eventually, and they take it all in stride, as if she’d just told them that she had decided to take up knitting as a pastime.

John B is always there, offering to drive her to get dinner, insisting he hasn’t eaten in days. He insists that Kie teach him how to cook fish the way they do at the Wreck, makes her taste-test each batch and critique them.

Pope does research, because that’s how he copes with this sort of thing, and after a while he starts bringing it up with her. JJ glares at him at first, asks Kiara if she wants him to stop, but she likes it. She likes knowing she’s not alone, that this is normal.

JJ’s approach is more subtle. He’s always making her food (he still can’t make toast without burning it, but she eats it anyway). Honestly, when JJ pouts and bats his eyelashes and flashes that devilish smirk of his, it’s hard to say no to anything he offers her. He makes it easy though, and that’s what she loves. It’s not awkward or forced, just them sharing a basket of fries at the Wreck, or visiting a local food truck festival in town.

She doesn’t know why she thought telling the Pogues would be a bad thing, because it’s nice not having to hide this from them, to know they’ll be there if she needs them.

Kiara doesn’t need perfect, she decides. She just needs her boys— if she has them, she’ll be fine.

No matter what happens.

[embeanwrites]

Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Connor led me to the DPD’s meeting room. Looking around I saw my dad, Captain Fowler, Gavin, Chris, and two other detectives I didn’t recognize.

“(Y/n), this is Detective Persons and Detective Collins. You’ve met everyone else.” My dad told me. I smiled and gave the two of them a wave.

“I’m Dr. (Y/n) (L/n). I’m a professor at Wayne State University. I study the sociological relationships between androids and humans.” Connor put his hand on my shoulder and pointed me towards an empty chair.

“Why are you even here?” Gavin asked, his tone made it clear he was annoyed.

“You’re talking about how to handle android crime; you don’t think I could be useful in that conversation?” I shot back, frustrated that my legitimacy was already being questioned.

“You’ve been in Detroit for like a month. How are you going to tell us how to do our job?” I glared at Gavin who glared right back. This is supposed to be the same guy who calmed me down from an anxiety attack, yesterday, it’s hard to believe that this is the same person. 

“I’m not here to tell you how to do your job. I’m here to help educate- “

“So now we’re not educated enough to deal with androids.” Gavin interrupted.

“Detective Reed! That’s enough! Dr. (L/n) is volunteering her time to help us and believe it or not you’re not an android expert so shut your mouth!” Captain Fowler said. Gavin leaned back in his chair staring forward, Captain Fowler turned to me, closing his eyes and taking a breath before continuing. “Dr. (L/n), we’ve been trying to handle android crime one case at a time, but it’s taking us a long time to process it all. The point of this meeting is to see if we can come up with general rules to follow to help make the process go faster, until actual laws are passed.” I nodded and looked down at my hands that were in my lap. I can feel everyone staring at me.

“Well, you all probably already know this from handling cases before but when androids attack humans, it isn’t premeditated. It’s normally in self-defense and the feelings of contempt have been building. Cases like that should be treated the same as domestic violence cases where the victim killed the attacker.”

“How are we supposed to know if the android is lying? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Dr. (L/n), but a lot of androids have removed their LEDs and we can’t exactly see how they’re feeling.”

“How do you tell humans are lying? Androids have similar tells, Detective Reed.”

“Okay, well how do we punish them. If we put them in prison, they still have access to the internet or whatever. Plus, a life sentence doesn’t really fit an android.” He shot back.

“That has nothing to do with how you’re handling cases, but it’s my professional opinion that the same laws are applied the same way to androids.”

“Oh, your professional opinion? Isn’t sociology a liberal arts degree? What do you know about the engineering behind how androids work?”

“I know plenty, Detective Reed. Last time I checked a PhD is a higher degree than an associate’s degree.” We continued glaring at each other, everyone else had faded to the background. Why was he fighting me this much? I’m doing them a favor.

“Dr. (L/n), uh how would you suggest we handle android on android crime?” Chris spoke up.

“Same as you would handle human on human crime and handle human on android crime as a hate crime unless there’s evidence proving otherwise.” I said still glaring at Gavin.

“What about androids that attack humans as an act of revenge just on humans in general?” Detective Collins asked. I finally peeled my eyes off Gavin.

“The same as you’d handle it normally. I know it seems more complicated than it really is, but androids fought to be equal. The punishments for both sides should be the same. If a human kills an android, they should be punished just the same as if they had killed another human.” I said, I felt Connor’s hand on my shoulder. Gavin slammed his hands on the table and got up and left with a huff.

“Detective Reed!” Captain Fowler yelled. Gavin said nothing as he shoved the meeting doors open, storming out of the precinct. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have antagonized him that much.” I whispered.

“It’s alright, Dr. (L/n). If you wouldn’t mind stepping out so we can discuss some of what you said.” Fowler responded. 

“Of course, here’s my card with my email and phone number if you need anymore assistance.” I handed Captain Fowler my card and walked out, careful not to meet anyone’s eyes. Connor closed the door behind me. Still angry, I followed where I saw Gavin go.

Stepping outside the building I saw Gavin leaning against the wall to the left of the door, smoking a cigarette.

“What the fuck was all that, Detective Reed? I came here as a favor to this department and you fucking attack me in front of everyone?.” I got in his face, shoving my finger into his chest, he kept looking forward. He didn’t say anything. “What is your problem with me? Yesterday you were so nice and today you start a fucking screaming match in front of my dad’s colleagues! This was a professional meeting with potential interviewees for my research and you embarrassed me in front of them!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He muttered, throwing the half-smoked cigarette.

“Oh my god, you’re joking right? Because I didn’t want my dad to know I got into a man’s car, who I’ve known for three days, and went to his fucking house doesn’t mean I’m embarrassed by you! I don’t give a fuck that it was you. I just didn’t want to deal with more shit that day!”

“Whatever, pipsqueak.” He mumbled. I whipped around as I heard the door open and Connor called for me. “Better go back to your plastic boyfriend.” I pivoted back towards Gavin.

“He’s NOT my boyfriend, you massive prick!” I started at a normal volume but lost control in the middle, now I was just shouting in his face and I didn’t care if I was in the middle of Detroit in front of nosey people . I was livid, my hands were in fists at my sides, wishing I could shove this man into the wall behind him and give him a new scar. “He’s like my little brother if anything, god you’re such an asshole!” He was silent, glaring down at me. “Fuck this.” I said, shaking my head and stomping over to Connor. “Let’s go, Connor.” 

“(Y/n), your breathing is erratic, you need to calm down.”

“I’m fine, Connor.” I said through clenched teeth as we walked in the direction of my apartment. I saw Connor in the corner of my eye looking at me and back towards the building, his LED spinning yellow.

“Please calm down. You’re prone to anxiety attacks, if you don’t calm your breathing it could cause a spiral.” I looked at Connor, still walking forward and I took a deep breath in my nose and out my mouth, though it was more sarcastic than it was helpful, I could still feel my blood boiling and rushing in my ears.

“Happy?”

“No, you’re still upset, and Hank has asked me to return to the station.”

“Go back to the station, I’m fine. It’s daylight and I can walk home by myself.” I kept walking as Connor stopped, still looking back and forth. I stopped at the crosswalk, taking a real deep breath this time. I wasn’t pissed at Connor. I shouldn’t be talking to him like this. “Connor, I’m sorry I’m just irritated, but I’ll get over it. You should go back to work. Would it make you feel better if I texted you when I got to my apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I will.” I said patting his shoulder and offering him a small smile. “ Now go back to the station, I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. Please.” He nodded and started walking back. I sighed and wiped my face, trying to push the mess that just happened to the back of my head before continuing the short walk back to my apartment.

[highlight-study-harder]

Sanding Hardwood Floors by Hand

As I have said commonly before sanding hardwood floors by hand can be a great deal of difficult work. Difficult work that can besanding hardwood floors by hand title mitigated with the utilization of a story sander.

All things considered, I have now addressed such a large number of individuals that will sand their floors by hand regardless. So it is just right that I do an article about sanding wood floors with hand sanders.

How to sand a hardwood floor by hand? Precisely the same way you would with floor sanding machines, however with much more real effort! Start with a low coarseness like 40, move to 60, 80 then 100. Utilize a handheld orbital sander, in a perfect world with a rigging driven setting.

With regards to this point, the most significant thing to talk about is productivity. Some hand sanders are undeniably more impressive and successful than others and it's significant that you give yourself a head start.You would prefer not to be gotten short….. There are some hand sanding check here

Which hand sander is the best?

To add a little spirit to this article I'm going to rank them arranged by forcefulness and effectiveness.

Before I start I have to caution you, I am going to sound a little negative about the instruments you are likely going to utilize in the event that you are going to sand your floors by hand. I'm doing whatever it takes not to spoil your otherwise good vibes or be mean, I am simply attempting to be straightforward. On the off chance that you plan on sanding wood floors with hand sanders, it will be tiring and tedious. Cautioned is forearmed!

In last spot is in all honesty the delta sander.

I wasn't in any event, going to remember this sander for my awesome rundown, however it is a handheld sander. It is utilized by experts to sand directly into the corners where the edge sander can't reach.

Other minor detail work aside, this sander is essentially futile. It has no force at all, and it doesn't deliver a decent completion (smooth surface).

You will require this for sanding the corners, however in the event that you truly are on a tight spending plan, you can rub corners down, actually, by hand (and sandpaper obviously).

Hauling its heels, in fourth spot, we have the handheld arbitrary orbital sander!

hand held arbitrary orbital sanderIt's actual unfortunately the irregular orbital sander you have in your carport is simply not going to cut it.

This apparatus is incredible for making a smooth completion on wood, particularly in little regions. The irregular orbital framework implies that the cushion wavers, yet it turns freely meaning it will consistently offer approach to obstruction.

That is the thing that it was intended for, not to evacuate gigantic measures of wood, yet to knead it smooth.

Truly you can put a 40 coarseness on it and 'mess up' some little zones, yet in the event that you plan on sanding your wood floors by hand with this sander then you would do well to clear your schedule.

Taking third spot, the palm sander.

palm sanderThe generally normal of all. The palm sander.

Much the same as the handheld arbitrary orbital, palm sanders sway, yet the palm sander plate is fixed straight. Without this 'give' the palm sander can be somewhat more forceful, while as yet creating a significant smooth completion.

Palm sanders additionally have the additional advantage of having a square edge that can be utilized to sand directly into the edges of the floor.

The issue is with this sander is that it despite everything doesn't meet expectations regarding force and forcefulness.

Once more, on the off chance that you decide to utilize this sander, get ready for a long hard trudge.

 Not exactly taking the best position, the handheld belt sander.

Presently we are talking, a machine with some genuine snort.

The handheld belt sander can sand off old completion and sand out gouges and scratches substantially more effectively than the past sanders.

While it won't stay aware of the speed of an ordinary floor sander, the hand held belt sander will get the activity going ahead with sensible speed.

Simply make certain to continue moving side to side, forward and in reverse, and in a perfect world, in a round movement. The more weight you can apply, the quicker it will get the wood back to exposed.

This device isn't incredible for getting straight up to the edges. You can get very close yet on certain sides of the room it will be contradicting some common norms and delivering an awful completion.

At the point when utilized for sanding with the grain, this can create a genuinely smooth completion, however not the best.

Raging through in the lead position, post position, head honcho… The Festool Rotex!

I have been utilizing the Festool Rotex (150mm circle) for quite a long time. I use it for sanding steps, limits and difficult to-get-to zones, just as, the edges of floors.

Not exclusively does the Rotex can deliver an incredibly smooth get done with its arbitrary orbital setting, it can truly complete some work the equipped orbital setting (or as rotex state the "Rotex turning movement").

This implies the cushion sways and it turns. In addition to the fact that it spins, it turns with power.

On the off chance that I needed to sand a story by hand, this would be my instrument of decision, doubtlessly.

You can evacuate old stain and wood rapidly, sand straight up to the edge of the floor (aside from the corners) and produce an extremely top notch finish.

Presently a speedy word on method…

Ideally, you know at this point, likewise with all sanding machines, they ought not sit still for a really long time!

That is, in the event that you need to make a smooth level completion. The less forceful the apparatus the less significant, however even with arbitrary orbitals and palm sanders moving it back and forward will be more powerful than sitting it still. So there is no explanation not to continue moving!

On the off chance that you use anything better than 40 coarseness to begin you won't succeed. You have to utilize a coarse coarseness to expel stain, soil, scrapes, imprints and scratches.

At that point climb the corn meal as you would do sanding whatever else. Skipping from 40g to 100g is going to give you a scratchy completion.

Ensure that the old stain is appropriately expelled. In the event that you see a detect that seems as though it could in any case have stain on it, simply lick your finger and rub it. The wood will douse and obscure and the stain won't.

For a better selected or reviewed list please do visit at   https://toolsearchkit.com/best-belt-sander/

In the event that your floor is exceptionally lopsided, profoundly imprinted or has a few layers of hard finish, at that point I recommend revamping your hardwood floors appropriately.

Other than that people, sanding hardwood floors by hand is quite basic.

On the off chance that you are going to begin a task, at that point I wish you good karma, it very well may be done and has been done ordinarily by perusers of this site.

[justheretobreakthings]

Seen Much Better Days - Chapter 7

The seventh and final chapter! Thanks to everyone who has been reading, and of course to @sunshine-hime whose request got me to write this big ol’ fella in the first place.

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 1,834 (Total Word Count: 14,861) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

Allura rescuing Keith from the hands of a slave trader was the first step, but the paladins still have a way to go to feel like they’ve truly brought Keith home.

(Sequel to Torn and Frayed)

Fic content warnings for past slavery and rape.

Things did not automatically become better for Keith after he had laid out to his team the details of what had happened to him. Of course, no one had expected them to. A heartfelt talk and a group hug wouldn’t undo trauma, didn’t give him back what had been taken from him.

But he seemed to be more open to the idea that things could get better, more responsive to what help his team could offer, and that was enough to relieve some of the tension that had been looming in the castle’s air since the day they had gotten that call from Kolivan.

The other paladins still kept some caution up, minding their words around him so nothing that wasn’t a demand would come out sounding like one. If one of them were going to touch him, to pat his back or squeeze his hand or nudge him with their elbow, they made sure to announce it was coming and give him the chance to refuse. Sometimes he did; sometimes he didn’t.

It seemed the rest of the team was picking up on the little signs of progress too, and it always improved their moods. Allura could see the relief in Hunk’s posture every time Keith finished full servings of whatever had been cooked for him (and Hunk seemed to be taking the job of cheering Keith up with food very seriously, as the crisp fried foods and tender meats that Keith preferred had started dominating his menus), and Lance had been unable to stop beaming with pride the day Keith snorted at one of his jokes, the closest thing to a laugh any of them had heard from him in so, so long.

Allura even came across Shiro tiptoeing out of Keith’s room one night, grinning from ear to ear and with dew in his eyes, and at Allura’s questioning look, he made a shushing gesture and whispered, “He fell asleep. Right on my shoulder.” And once Shiro had entered his own room and shut the door, Allura could even make out the sound of him whistling to himself.

Sure, Keith still wasn’t in perfect shape. He still was quiet and wary, the nightmares still came, he still got an anxious and faraway look in his eyes when he zoned out of conversations. But the paladins were opting to focus on the positives of late.

So the question that Keith broached at the table in the middle of dinner one evening was one that had been pushed far out of their minds:

“When am I going back to the Blade?”

He had addressed the question to Allura, but the rest of the table fell quiet too when he asked it. The eyes of her teammates were suddenly all drawn toward herself and Keith, and the latter either didn’t notice or chose not to acknowledge it. He just waited for an answer.

Allura shifted uncomfortably in her seat, pursing her lips. It was true that the very same question had crossed her mind since Keith’s return. As much as things had changed during Keith’s absence from the team and his time in captivity, some things were still the same. They still had their duties with Voltron, some of which had admittedly fallen by the wayside while they had been focused on rescuing Keith and then helping him afterward. They still had every pilot’s seat in Voltron occupied. The Blade of Marmora still had their own ongoing work and investigations, and Keith was still a member of their organization.

It was natural, then, to assume that things were soon to go back to the way they were before all of this mess.

But honestly? She didn’t want things to go back to the way they were before. Before, there had been a gap in Team Voltron, a hole that they all refused to acknowledge because after all, wasn’t this sensible, wasn’t this the best option? Before, Keith had been off with the Blade, his interactions with the people who were supposed to be practically family to him limited to perfunctory greetings at Kolivan’s side before talking coalition business. Before, he had been essentially alone, had been out on missions that were ‘more important than the individual’ and couldn’t count on anyone to save him if he needed it, and holy quiznak did he end up needing it.

Before, they had failed him as teammates. And if Keith went back to the Blade, if they sent him away again after they had fought so hard to get him back, they will have failed him again.

Shiro was the one who answered him, after clearing his throat and glancing toward Allura, the uncertainty clear in his eyes. “Well, um,” he said. “I suppose that’s your own decision to make, Keith. Do you - is that what you want? To go back to the Blade?”

Keith shrugged, dropping his gaze down to the food on his fork. “I dunno,” he said. “I guess.”

“Wait, what?!” With a clatter Pidge threw her cutlery down onto the table and rose from her seat, leaning toward Keith, brows shooting up practically toward her hairline. “Are you serious?! You want to leave?!”

“Um,” Keith said. “I mean, my injuries have finished healing up, and I’ve been taken a long enough break from my Blade duties as it is…”

“A break?” Lance echoed. “Dude, you weren’t on a fucking break, you were basically being tortured and then convalescing.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter. I’m back on my feet now, so I should be getting back to missions and stuff, right?”

“Perhaps,” Allura said slowly. “Although, are you sure you should be getting back to Blade missions, specifically? You don’t want to overexert yourself so soon, do you?” Not that Voltron missions were particularly relaxing, but after all, Keith had been on a Blade mission, in a Blade uniform and with Blade operatives, when he’d been captured and everything had gone downhill for him. She was no expert on trauma, but from what she’d seen with Shiro, putting oneself back into such similar circumstances as when one had been hurt before, especially so soon after the fact, probably couldn’t end well. It was because she was no expert, though, that she didn’t voice that last thought.

Keith let out a little sigh. “I just think I should get back to where I’m needed, you know? Kolivan would want - ”

“Oh, fuck Kolivan!” Pidge snapped.

Keith turned to her, surprised. “Pidge?”

“Now, now, Pidge,” Coran spoke up. “Kolivan and the Blade are our allies, you must be respectful to - ”

“No, you know what? Fuck ‘em,” Pidge said. “Fuck Kolivan and fuck the Blade of Marmora. Yeah, they’re our allies and whatever, but that doesn’t mean I gotta be happy with them. Keith was there helping the Blade when they needed it, but where the hell were they when Keith got taken down on a mission they sent him on, and which went south because they had insufficient intel? I notice that the Blade didn’t make any effort to rescue him! Kolivan basically wrote him off for dead while we were the ones who were scouting out slave traders in every known galaxy to try and find him! Because that’s what a team is supposed to do!

“And so what happens next time something goes wrong, huh?! Are we seriously going to trust the fucking Blade to do what’s best for Keith? They’d just let him rot, consider him an acceptable loss, and - and you’re not an acceptable loss, Keith! You’re - you’re family. We’re a team, and I - ” Her voice crackled and she sniffed before finishing. “I don’t wanna lose you again.”

“Me neither, man,” Hunk piped up, and naturally his eyes were watery too. “How are we supposed to keep you safe if you go away again?”

Keith fidgeted on his seat. “It’s - it’s not your job to keep me safe…”

“Like hell it ain’t,” Lance said. “That’s what families are supposed to do: all walk through hell together so we can be sure we all make it to the other side.”

“But the Lions,” Keith said. “You have five paladins now. Five paladins, five lions.”

“Two of which you have successfully piloted before,” Allura pointed out. “As well as one more with whom you’ve established a communication link. If any pilot could be relied on to step in in case of someone being incapacitated, it’s you.”

“And even if not, that’s not stopping you from fighting,” Pidge added. “You were plenty useful to the Blade without a Lion; why wouldn’t the same apply here?”

“Most importantly, Keith,” said Shiro. “You still haven’t answered my first question.”

Keith frowned. “Um… what was that again?”

Shiro leaned toward him. “Keith, do you want to go back to the Blade? Because that’s what’s most important here. Not where you think you’ll be most useful, not what Kolivan or anyone else wants you to do. I trust you to know what’s best for yourself right now, okay? You get to be the one to choose: do you want to go back to the Blade?”

Keith swallowed and looked around at the assembled team, at Shiro’s sincere and solemn face, at Pidge’s fiery gaze, at Hunk who was looking like he would just dissolve completely into a waterfall of tears at any moment.

Allura tried to keep her own face neutral, not to push him toward anything he didn’t want, but it was likely some of her own imploring thoughts made themselves known. Stay, she pled silently. Stay with us. Let us keep you safe. Let us be the ones to make sure you’re never hurt again.

And ever so slowly, Keith shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “I don’t want to go back. I want to stay.”

Relieved sighs sounded all around the table, and not a fraction of a tick later Hunk was already wrapping Keith in a tearful bear hug.

After a few exclamations of cheer at Keith’s decision to stay, Allura finally tapped Hunk on the back. “All right, Hunk. Let him breathe.”

Hunk reluctantly released Keith and returned to his own seat. Keith, with a nod to the others, took up his spork again and returned to his meal, which the others had all but forgotten amidst their discussion. Within moments, the others resumed their own food, and soon the team’s usual cheerful mealtime chatter had filled the silence again.

“Keith?” Allura said to him once the others’ attention was on each other instead of him. “I assure you I would have supported you with whatever choice you made, but… I’m glad you made this one.”

Keith cast her a ghost of a smile. “Thanks, Allura.”

She hesitated a moment, then reached out to take Keith’s hand, pausing to give him a chance to pull away if he wanted. When he didn’t, she gave it a squeeze. “It’s good to have you home, Keith.”

“It’s good to be home.” He squeezed back.

[sol1056]

Do you think they couldn't make other characters queer cause of copyright? As far as my knowledge goes (correct me if i'm wrong bc I'm confused) Shiro belongs to the first itineration of Voltron, Go Lion! and Koplars are the owners of the American version. The post-s8 tea on Twitter said they weren't given permission of changing last names, what if was the same with sexualities? Koplar's Shiro, Sven was coupled with Romelle but I think Go Lion's Shiro didn't have anyone, so it was an easy pick?

That’s not really the way copyright works. 

Shiro belongs to DreamWorks, full stop, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. The same goes for Allura, Pidge, Hunk, Keith, Lance, Coran, Kolivan, Krolia, Zarkon, Lotor, Haggar/Honerva, and any other iteration of the characters as they are presented in DreamWork’s version. 

Note: I’m not saying that Shiro wasn’t a character in GoLion. I’m saying that the Shiro-of-GoLion is a character copyrighted by Toei Animation; Shiro-of-VLD is a character copyrighted by DreamWorks; Shiro of… well, any other iteration would be copyrighted by whomever created that iteration. 

It’s a complicated and heavily-legislated area of the law, but here’s the core idea boiled down into a single statement: your creation is copyrighted the instant you “fix it in a tangible medium of expression”.   

That is, you cannot copyright an idea; you can only copyright a distinct implementation. Furthermore, copyright is always owned — automatically upon creation — by the person or company who did the work of setting that idea into its concrete state. 

Behind the cut: copyrighting characters, withholding character information, cultural hot buttons, and where do we go from here. 

note #1: there is one exception, known as “work-for-hire,” where employees create something on behalf of an employer. This must known beforehand and made explicit via some kind of agreement. If you read the fine print, there’ll be a work-for-hire clause in most employee or contractor agreements.

note #2: yes, this does mean you could create a mecha series where the robots are all big lions, or a mecha series where animal-based mecha combine. It would probably end up in court anyway ‘cause companies get prickly about protecting their IPs, but afaik the court’s decision would hinge on whether your implementation is different enough.

(this is why I scoff so much at the EPs being so open about where they steal ideas from: there’s a reason writers talk about filing off the serial numbers. it’s not because we don’t want you to think we get ideas from everywhere. it’s because distinct is also a necessary ingredient for plausible deniability of plagiarism.) 

copyrighting characters

The ‘no last name’ claims are frankly a lot of hot air. 

First, you cannot copyright a character name; you can only copyright the specific and fully-developed character as a whole. (A Meg Murry who’s a South Asian marathon runner? Not a violation of L’Engle.) You could trademark a character name, but only if that name appears in the title; frex, Indiana Jones was able to be trademarked because his name is part of a series of works that all begin with “Indiana Jones.” 

WEP could trademark Voltron (as the mecha’s name), but doesn’t look like WEP chose to do so. Recent research seems to indicate WEP actually embraces and supports non-media products (that is, things that are obviously not their adaptation-of-an-anime) using the name, possibly on the theory this wide usage increases the name’s recognition and cultural cachet.

Second, consider Devil’s Due Publishing (DDP), which gave every character a full name, new biography, age, height, and family history. It retains its copyright over those characters, but only as whole characters. You could make your Keith Kogane an orphan in his mid-20s who’s distinctly anti-social, and you’d probably be fine, because that description is still more of a stereotype than a distinct/unique character. 

To quote the legal encyclopedia:

Judge Learned Hand of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit established the standard for character protection in a case called Nichols v. Universal Pictures Corp., 45 F.2d 119 (2d Cir. 1930), when he stated that, “the less developed the characters, the less they can be copyrighted; that is the penalty an author must bear for marking them too indistinctly.”

For example, alien characters stranded on Earth is a popular and recurring theme as portrayed in My Favorite Martian, Starman, Alien Nation, Transformers, District 9, Predators, and The Man Who Fell to Earth. The idea of a stranded alien character, without embellishment, is not protectable.

[��] once a stranded alien character acquires more distinctive features or aspects—for example, a big-headed, long-necked alien with a glowing finger who murmurs “Phone home”—it becomes distinct enough to merit protection and its owners can prevent others from using the character’s image and expression.

If you make your misanthropic orphan named Keith also a former Marine, and an expert in hand-to-hand combat, and grieving a dead fiancee… He’s no longer a stereotype, but a character with a unique combination of features. DDP probably would have grounds to send you a cease-and-desist. 

However, if you say Keith Kogane is a lonely kid from Texas with an alien mom and a fireman dad, who’s the best damn pilot of his generation, and is generally awkward and whose silence hides a whip-smart intellect… again, a unique combination that fleshes out generic ‘Keith’ into a very specific and distinct Keith. Who is not, it should be noted, a carbon-copy of DDP’s Keith.

And the real nail in the coffin: if you’re going to argue that it’s a copyright violation to use Keith’s or Lance’s or Hunk’s last names, then why wouldn’t the same apply to using their first names? Or using names like Daibazaal, Sincline, Lotor, Honerva, Haggar, Alfor, Yurak, etc. Pretty sure ‘Zarkon’ isn’t a name you see everyday. I mean, it’s not, say, ‘Bob.’ 

withholding information

I’ve seen staff from another DW project say they can’t specify character ages until marketing decides. Which is… truly bizarre. If DW really is having marketing make such creative decisions, it’s not just putting the cart before the horse, it’s putting the cart in the jewelry store and the horse in the attic. 

If marketing or PR is anywhere in the mix, perhaps that’s because someone with social media savvy has realized topics like ethnicity and age will bring out the vitriolic teeny meanies of the Fandom Purity Police Brigade. Thing is, that doesn’t hold water, either: Trollhunters gave us ages and grade-in-school.

There could be another layer, too. The EPs I saw in those earliest interviews clearly had little firsthand experience with fandom, and seemed startled to hear fans actually care about those details. Two years of their interviews, and I have the strong sense they don’t like losing what they see as a battle of wills, no matter who their opponent is. Fandom cries out for surnames? Fandom will never get it. Fandom likes this couple over that one? Fandom is heading for severe disappointment. And so on. 

That’s ignoring the praise the EPs enjoyed for fandom’s conflation of a Korean-American VA and a Korean studio’s aesthetics, to see Keith himself as non-white. The EPs got representation points, and didn’t have to do a thing; the fandom did it for them. Why mess with that?

But no, copyright has nothing to do with that. 

cultural hot buttons

Sexuality, gender, and ethnicity are three places that a franchisee could run into problems, because these are hot buttons in the US. If the franchise owner feels a particular tangible form (this specific character in this specific iteration) violates the franchise’s ‘family-friendly’ aspect of their brand… I’d bet the contract between the parties does give the franchise owner some right of refusal or revision. 

Set aside what you think of VLD’s beginning, middle, or end. For all LM’s other faults, that sketch she did so long ago highlights all three: gender (Pidge), race (Keith and Allura), and sexuality (Shiro). We may’ve had to wait for an unfortunately tacked-on epilogue to get explicit confirmation*, but in the end, VLD was a significant break from previous Voltron iterations. 

Where, exactly, is anyone getting the impression that WEP is so terribly upset about its princess no longer being white, one of its pilots no longer being male, or another pilot no longer being straight? Whatever Bob Koplar might think of VLD’s end, his statement on the day of S8′s release made clear WEP is eager to continue their partnership with DW. 

Sounds to me like WEP is okay with DW’s creative and cultural approach. Otherwise, why go back for more? 

* edited to clarify, per @inklingdancer‘s tag

moving right along

It ultimately doesn’t matter what a previous iteration did. So long as DW’s creation is fully its own, copyright is neither barrier nor impetus to providing (or withholding) any information about that creation. 

What DW creates, DW owns. Which means DW is free to tell us last names, middle names, heights, ages, family history, race, gender, sexuality, love interest, even most hated food or favorite color — or nothing at all. 

[sack-thing]

Ok that’ll do it I guess. Blank template here.

Commentary below.

“Relationship level” isn’t different because... idk, can’t define a “level” for that, you know? :p When they’re this age both couples are still pretty recent (about one year or less), altho in both cases they’ve been close friends for a decade before so it’s not like they’re just “starting out” either.

Wasn’t sure what to do about “confesses first” / “waits to be confessed to” because they all waited a long time before doing it. xD (And they didn’t exactly wait for it, they just didn’t say anything.) Also Délia and Roy confess at the same time lol, but still, Délia tried to say it first. Luu Kah also half intends to say it first to Ramsey but then they just kiss so... Yeah.

I’m still confused about the definition of “introverted” and “extraverted” you know, I feel that we all interpret it in different ways, so I’ll explain. For instance, Luu Kah has no problem being around people, nor talking and speaking his mind. But he doesn’t feel the constant need to be around people either to feel good, which is why I didn’t put him on the extreme edge of extraverted. Ramsey isn’t too different but needs more time with others, his family got him used to it that way too. Still he does enjoy some time alone when he wants to read and whatnot.

Roy is pretty shy and doesn’t often speak his mind (especially in earlier times) but same, I didn’t want to use the extreme edge of introverted because he does need time with other people, tho he’ll always choose the ones he’s most comfortable with. As for Délia she’s kinda like her bro (lol oops they’re pretty similar all in all). Tho she likes to use her time alone more to wander off around the village’s cliffs and look at the sky somewhere haha.

The “texts” thing doesn’t apply to their world but whatever, still had to fill it.

In case it’s not clear, Roy is hetero-romantic and demisexual. Also I’m hesitating to have Luu Kah be more around the lines of demi-romantic, because I can easily imagine he didn’t care about being with someone before/didn’t have any crush until it happened with Ramsey and their bond was already strong. But idk, let’s keep it that way for now.

That said sometimes I feel it’s complicated to apply our definitions of sexuality to them, because 1.) I’m not an expert and don’t want to say shit, 2.) their culture being a bit different, they’re not as obsessed as us by romance and sex by default (it has its place but it’s not a life goal for as much people), and sometimes it makes me confused about what is being “demi” or not lol.

In any case, enough talk about that. We were here for fun, now it’s done.

[arcticdementor]

This is a topic with which I have some intimate familiarity from first hand experience. I’d like Stone (and other Right-Gramscians like Vermeule) to be right about this, but they aren’t, in two important ways. Now, of course, personnel is policy, and a bureaucracy filled with more right-leaning people would tend towards more right-leaning results. But the bigger problem by far is the courts. Worrying about the political composition of the bureaucracy is focusing on straining the gnats out of your pool when there is a giant, hungry, man-eating alligator swimming in it. A mostly Democrat bureaucracy for any Republican administration is a stubborn mule but one that be tamed and harnessed with sufficient coaxing and prodding which doesn’t actually require all that much sophisticated savvy. There is no taming the hungry alligator. If it decides to make you a snack, you either shoot it in the head or at the very least you’re losing a limb. Trump has been riding the mule through the swamp trail well enough, but the gator keeps jumping out of the water and eating the mule’s legs. Recently many journalists and commentators – including many on the right – have been pushing a fake-news meme that is completely without basis in reality (but what else is knew) which is that a main reason Trump is having trouble accomplishing his goals is because he and his administration lacks “political competence”. The non-progressives among them use this meme to bolster their big “told you so”, and prove they were right all along about the need to pick a GOP establishment figure … who would use all the extra competence to do things thing the base didn’t want them to. Do I get a mediocre buyer’s agent, or a great one, but he’s married to the seller? Some choice! These claims rely on the assumption of truly magical levels of power resulting from ‘political competence’ which expands the zone of possible agreements to infinity. See, if Trump was only politically competent, he would made all the clever deals necessary to have persuaded the GOP establishment to do whatever he wanted on the very positions in which Trump distinguished himself from the rest of the party, positions to which they made it perfectly clear they could never be moved, even if dragged, kicking and screaming. Look, that’s just a facially nutty claim that shouldn’t see the light of day without strong evidence. And yet … The other half of the ‘political competence’ claim is that Trump’s administration lacks ‘bureaucratic / legal competence’. That his administration is filled to the brim with hacks and cronies and recent graduate interns and clueless drones from the – get this – private sector (gasp!), who don’t know anything about how government processes (e.g., those required by the APA) work. If only the administration had clever, savvy, and sophisticated government-experts, and lots more of them, well then, again, because these are magic powers without limit, Trump could wield them like a dictator in possession of the One Ring to do anything his heart desires. Again, that’s nuts! As ‘evidence’ for these claims, the journalists and commentators point to … judges – mostly progressive ones – knocking his initiatives down. Because, as we all know, progressive judges are just pushovers for Republican initiatives when they are conducted with bureaucratic savvy? When Obama couldn’t get something past the courts, it was obviously because of evil judges, never because Obama wasn’t savvy enough. But for non-progressive commentators who have been complaining about a constant stream of judicial abuses for three or four generations now, to suddenly adopt a position that assumes that any judge’s reasons – even infamously biased progressive judges – for invalidating Trump’s initiatives are obviously perfectly valid and legitimate and wrong to question … well, it certainly takes some brass. As it happens, while it could certainly use a lot more, the administration does in fact have sufficient numbers of sufficiently savvy and sufficiently loyal people to get its initiatives through a mostly Democrat bureaucracy just fine, and has done so many times. Take a look at all new rules and notices in the Federal Register over the past two years. The trouble is the lawfare. You can be the most savvy and sophisticated kung-fu master in the world, but if your opponent pulls a sawed-off shotgun out from under his robe, you better run. Look, the courts are just out of control. The typical manner of performing jurisprudential analysis of scrutinizing whether some state action was permissible was to inquire whether or not the exercise of the authority was within the generally understood limits of the powers granted by the Constitution and legislation. If it was within the goal posts, you scored a goal. Case closed. Especially if you were trying to revive some older practice which had already been established to be a legitimate exercise of authority, then you could be almost certain you were on solid ground. That’s what a fair umpire or referee would do, and that’s what we used to call ‘rule of law’ (as opposed to ‘rule by judges’, which, you know, is something altogether different, though someone ought to tell those journalists and commentators.) But a judge who doesn’t want to follow the law obviously won’t be a fan of the actual rule of law. So the judiciary simply fabricated novel ways of invalidating rules they didn’t like, and the political system let them get away with it. A good example is the rational basis test, which allows a judge to say, “Yeah, you may technically have the authority, and there are no other constitutional issues here, but now you also need a good reason to want to do what you’re doing, and guess what, I guess to decide whether your reason is good enough.” But what if the reason had already been held good enough? No worries, we’ll just go one layer deeper and delve into the realm of mind-reading and inquire as to whether your reason was your real reason, or whether it was some pretext, and you are just pretending and saying what your lawyers coached you to say, and in truth you have other, secret reasons, which are bad, forbidden reasons. And, of course, once again, I get to be the judge of all that. After all, I’m a judge! If someone doesn’t understand how fundamentally bogus and illegitimate all this is and how structurally fraught with potential for abuse and bias, such that it would be somehow surmountable by any Republican so long as he had enough political and legal ‘competence’, I have some prime swampland to sell you. It’s full of hungry, man-eating gators, but apparently you think they’re harmless. As a final note, it’s worth considering how exactly is Trump supposed to get those savvy and sophisticated people in, even if he had them, when he can’t get the Senate to confirm anyone to the very positions that would responsible for steering the stagecoach? The sheer number of senior political-appointee positions in the government which are not officially filled is mind-blowing and under-reported, perhaps because no one wants to press the issue too hard, not knowing what would happen if things escalated. The ‘advice and consent’ requirement turns out to be a really bad failure mode in the Constitution which results from a design which was frankly, kind of dumb and naive. Hamilton really embarrasses himself on this point in Federalist 75 and 76, which are probably the weakest and worse things he ever wrote, and I’m guessing he was playing the unmotivated lawyer for a clearly guilty client who was both terrible but too important to refuse (i.e., the class of people who were likely to become Senators). The obvious failure condition (according to today’s rules anyway) is that 40 or more Senators, for whatever reason but most likely simple partisan acrimony and bad faith – simply refuse to provide any consent to confirm anyone or to ratify any treaty that the administration wants. What then? Well, there is the arguably-unconstitutional Federal Vacancies Reform Act (which might turn out to be possible to circumvent anyway via the temporary “First Assistant” tactic), but in general, we have a question of whether the President can more or less keep on running the Executive without the Senate confirming anybody. So, either the provision is null and void (as with the case of war-like or treaty-like foreign policy which just goes on as if valid, whether the war is declared or the treaty ratified or not), or it’s valid, and most of what the government is doing is null and void, because it’s not being directed by people with Constitutionally valid authority – which is kind of a ‘nuclear option’ / ‘government shutdown’ level consequence, and no one wants to open up that Pandora’s Box. Maybe one day this big issue will get fixed or settled, though it’s hard to see how. However, in the meantime, to the extent it still severely limits who any Republican President is able to place in the positions necessary to apply any savvy and sophisticated political competence to managing the bureaucracy, it just makes a giant joke of any claim that it’s mostly the lack of such leet DC skeelz that accounts for Trump’s inability to get everything he wants right away.

Handle

[kababage95]

Apophatic Feminism

As with my last “essay” (not sure it should be called that but as I can’t think of a better word it’s what we are going with), I am not an expert on anything written below. I have not studied sociology or gender studies or anything on feminism. The below is my opinion and I am always open to discussing anything written below (with one exception that is pointed out at the time).

There is a philosophical theory (Apophatic Theology) that the only way to truly describe god is through describing what he is not, so perhaps I will try applying this idea to feminism. There are a number of things that feminism does not mean, and once people understand what it isn’t, perhaps then they will be willing to admit to themselves and the world that they are in fact a feminist.

Feminism is not the hatred of men. Gender stereotypes are, in reality, against the nature of feminism. Given this, the notion of “men suck” falls squarely into the category of anti-feminist. Indeed, when you really get into it, feminism tries to challenge the ideas that men are emotionless, aggressive and impulsive. What feminism does realise it that men have privilege. It accepts that this privilege can be used for good or for bad depending on the person, but that privilege is undeniable. When people, whoever they are, use privilege to assert power over other people, its part of a democratic society that we are allowed to call those people out on it, and that’s what feminism seeks to do. At its heart feminism is a social justice movement. This means that it absolutely should place the welfare of those that are most harmed above the ego of any who would benefit from the privilege that it seeks to remove. Note however that this clearly isn’t about how men are, or how they should be. It is a fact of the world that men have more power than women. It is this imbalance that feminism seeks to change; not because it wants to hurt men, but because it aims to free people from expectations and stereotypes that are harmful to everybody.

Coming off of the first point, whilst feminism is not the hatred of men, it is also not the belief that women are superior. There are a lot of people out there that see feminism as a celebration of womanhood; it isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that womanhood shouldn’t be celebrated, but let’s make it clear that they are not the same thing. In reality, feminism seeks to challenge the very idea of womanhood. Femininity is a construct of society, and in reality, whilst societal norms confer some benefits to being a woman, they are few and far between and it is for this reason that feminism seeks to challenge the idea of womanhood. Yes, it is considered more socially acceptable for women to be open with their emotions (another notion that feminism seeks to tear down), but is this really suitable recompense for disadvantages such as higher risk of sexual and domestic violence or for being economically disadvantaged? For being denied basic human rights in certain parts of the world and the many other negative side effects of being born with two X chromosomes instead of one X and one Y? Clearly the answer here is no, categorically not. Being a feminist isn’t about saying that being female is better than being male, it’s about wanting to be able to say that being a woman, or any other non-binary gender is as good as being a man and having it be true. At the moment, it simply isn’t.

Moving away from men for a second (feminism isn’t all about men?! Shocking I know), it should be clear that feminism isn’t the idea that dresses and the colour pink are bad. Feminism is not anti-feminine. You have to hand it to the patriarchy, managing to convince people that feminism is both a hatred of men, and the hatred of things associated with women was a stroke of genius. By doing so, you eliminate the vast majority of those that would otherwise support the movement. Feminists don’t hate the colour pink or wearing dresses (my best friend is the best proponent of feminism that I know and she wears more dresses than anything else). Far from the idea that those things are bad, feminism is the idea that those things shouldn’t be inherently associated with women at all. It’s about being able to understand that certain things have actually been devalued by being classed as feminine; how unusual is it to see things, and even people, being mocked for being feminine? Being a feminist means acknowledging that there is absolutely no valid reason at all for anything to have any gender associated with it and that more than that, gender doesn’t confer value. More than anything else feminism is about choice. If a woman wants to wear a pink dress and be a stay-at-home mum, that doesn’t mean she isn’t a feminist or make her less of a feminist. Equally, a woman who wears a suit and devotes her life to her career is no more or less a feminist.

Building on this idea, and I cant believe I have to make this point, being gay isn’t a bad thing. Let’s get this cleared up right now. Firstly, being LGBTQ is not, in any way, a negative thing. There is no link whatsoever between sexual orientation and being a feminist. More and more I see anti-feminists telling those that identify as a feminist that they are gay, with gay being meant as an insult. Feminist women being called lesbians because feminists must hate men. Feminist men being called gay because its “girly” to be a feminist. This is the one part of this “essay” that I am not willing to have a discussion over. Using any form of sexual orientation as an insult is not acceptable in any situation. Ever. The end. You absolutely can be gay and be a feminist and it is true that being gay may influence a person’s feminism, it’s called intersectionality, look it up. But the two things are not intrinsically linked. Just one final time for those that are struggling, “gay” is NOT okay to use as an insult and “feminist” is not a dirty word. I urge all of you to call out anybody that you hear using gay as an insult, it is not okay. It is despicable behaviour that should be called out at any opportunity.

“Feminists do nothing except complain”. Yeah okay buddy, go crawl back under whatever rock you just crawled out from. There are two things here, firstly, the idea that someone complaining must be feminist, have you seen any of the world ever? The human race took complaining and turned it into a skill that most everybody everywhere has mastered. I really wish that everybody who complained was a feminist, the battle would be over, the entire world would be feminists and gender equality would be achieved tomorrow. Clearly, that’s not the case. Secondly, the idea that the only thing that feminists do in the world is complain is clearly BS. Feminism gives people hope, it makes people laugh and cry and it inspires people. Without feminism women wouldn’t be able to vote, there would be none of the advances in the work place and it would still be acceptable for a husband to force his wife to have sex with him (something that wasn’t illegal in all 50 US states until 1993 and which will be covered in more detail in a separate essay). Feminism has achieved so many things in the last 100 years, it still has a way to go before its aims are fully realised, but its pretty clear that feminism is not only about complaining.

The final thing I want to point out that feminism is not is that it is not the aim of feminism to turn humanity into an identical whole. It is not unusual for feminists to be accused of trying to make humanity one great big homogeny by removing gender roles and for sure, if you are only willing to view diversity as things being male or female then feminism is going to challenge that. But is that really what diversity is? Two groups? To me, diversity is about having an infinite number of groups, of which each individual belongs to any number of. Instead of having men and women, male and female, masculine and feminine, diversity is about recognising that its stupid to try force fit 7 billion (and growing) people into one of two groups. If you were born a man that wants to masculine then that is absolutely fine, nobody is trying to take that away from you. If the stereotypes of the gender you were assigned at birth fits you like a glove then lucky you, and more power to you. But the truth is that for the vast majority of people, those stereotypes leave something to be desired. Feminism is saying that people shouldn’t feel pressured to feel or act in a particular way because the patriarchy deems, from the day you are born, that you should act in a way that conforms to their ideals. What seems to amaze certain people in society is that, when people act in a way that they are being who they truly are, and not in a way that society tells them they must act, the world goes on spinning and doesn’t implode. More than that, when people don’t feel the pressure to behave how others say they must, when people behave how they want to, the world doesn’t divide itself neatly into only two categories, and that’s okay!

So if that’s 6 things that feminism isn’t, then what do I think feminism is? To me, feminism is so many things, but more than anything else, its about choice. Yes it is the political, social and economical equality of the genders but its about choice. It’s about the freedom to choose to not wear make-up or to wear make-up no matter who you are. It’s about it being okay to aspire to be a full time mum or dad. It’s about everybody, everywhere being free to choose who they want to be, without the fear of being judged because “that’s not ladylike” or “that’s girly”. Yawn. Get over yourself. We aren’t born knowing that little girls play with dolls and little boys play with trucks and blocks. My partner of almost 6 years is an Early Years teacher, she works with babies from 6 months up to two years 5 days a week, and let me assure you that there are plenty of little boys who enjoy playing with the dolls and at that age, its generally the little girls who are better at building with the blocks. They don’t know about gender norms until society influences them and, given that, I am forced to conclude that far from trying to implement a new societal norm on society, what feminism is actually trying to do is to revert society back into the way that society would naturally be without 6 millennia worth of misogyny.

That concludes another essay! As before, I fully accept that some of you may not have read all of this as it is really rather long, if you read any of it, I hope you have taken something away from it! For those of you that are curious, I am a white, 22 year old male who currently lives in London and has never lived outside the UK, I had a number of DMs from people asking for that information after the last post so thought I would get ahead of it this time!

[stormycastles]

NPR: How A Shocking Attack Inspired India's Actresses To Fight Harassment

November 4, 2017 | NURITH AIZENMAN

Sayanora Philip (foreground), a singer in Mollywood films, takes a selfie with fellow members of the newly formed Women in Cinema Collective.

Listen here

Every day seems to bring a new high profile case of sexual harassment in American media. It began with accusations against Harvey Weinstein. This week NPR's senior vice president of news was forced to resign over allegations against him.

But this problem is hardly limited to the U.S. For the past several months one of India's major film industries has been made to face up to similar problems in its own ranks after the sexual assault of a prominent actress. In reaction, women movie stars, directors and other film professionals have formed an unprecedented coalition to fight back.

They call themselves the Women in Cinema Collective, and the group includes some of the biggest names in "Mollywood." That's the nickname for the industry that produces movies in the 35-million-strong South Indian state of Kerala in the local language of Malayalam — and which is not to be confused with "Bollywood," the better known nationwide Hindi-language film industry based in the city of Mumbai.

Launched in May, the WCC has been lobbying both the industry and political leaders for a host of reforms — ranging from setting up an official complaints system through which women could report harassment and get justice to the stipulation that production companies must provide such long-denied basics as toilets appropriate for women on set.

Perhaps no one is more surprised at their newfound activism than the women themselves.

"None of us thought we could all stand up and ask for the same thing," says Rima Kallingal, a prominent movie actress. "None of us thought of it."

That all changed on an evening last February, when a Mollywood actress got into a chauffeured car hired by the company producing a film she was working on. According to a judge's summary of allegations made by the state prosecutor, suddenly another vehicle rammed the car from behind. A gang of men jumped out of that vehicle and forced their way into the actress's car. Over the next couple hours they drove around with her as their prisoner, taking photographs and video as they sexually assaulted her.

"I can't even imagine the psychological pressure she went through when she was in that car," recalls Kallingal, who is a close friend of the actress. (As a matter of policy, NPR does not name individuals who are the alleged victims of sexual assaults unless they choose to be identified).

Kallingal believes that, whatever their aim, the assailants assumed the actress would be too traumatized or ashamed at the prospect of the photographs being made public to report the crime.

"That's where she proved everybody wrong," says Kallingal. That same night, after the actress was set free, she contacted the police.

"I still remember going to meet her the very next day," says Kallingal. "How she stood like a rock and was so clear that she was going to come down on every person who was involved in this."

Within days police had arrested several men, including one whom the actress had recognized during the attack as someone who had driven her car during a previous film shoot, according to the judge's summary of the prosecutor's allegations. (An attorney for the man told NPR his client will be pleading not guilty in the case and was not involved in the attack.)

Kallingal says that in India survivors of a sexual assault are often either blamed or pitied as somehow irreparably soiled. So the actress's defiance was a watershed moment.

"She changed the whole narrative with that single act of bravery."

She also inspired her female colleagues to start a conversation they'd never had before. At first they were simply phoning each other out of shock — and to discuss ways they could lend the actress their public support. But the fact that the attack had taken place on a work trip, and, allegedly at the hands of someone who had been employed in the film industry, soon prompted deeper conversations about how safe any of them could feel in an industry that is loosely organized and requires them to show up at all manner of odd hours to remote locations where all but a handful of their colleagues are men.

The more the woman talked, the more they confided in one another about instances of sexual abuse and even assault they had faced on the job.

"It was like we opened a can of worms," says Parvathy Thiruvothu, another top actress. "It was really shocking for everyone once we got together, about 20 of us, that we have been either assaulted or faced the casting couch in the industry over years and we've never spoken about it even with each other. We were all made to believe that it was just us, just that one incident, [that] it doesn't happen to everybody."

The stories they shared ran the gamut: Women getting slapped for expressing creative differences on set. Male actors and directors making lewd comments on set or sending suggestive texts late at night. Directors and male stars or even male crew members insisting that a woman, including not just actresses but support staff such as hair stylists, sleep with them over the weeks that a film was being shot — and docking a woman's pay or getting her blacklisted if she refused. For some women, refusal wasn't even an option.

"I was assaulted," says Thiruvothu. On one of her movies, a powerful man in the industry "would expect me to be in his room to discuss scenes and be physical with me. I was really young at the time, and for him to say 'It's okay, you know, it's very normal' and for me to try to escape — and I didn't. I was forced to be intimate."

What's more, she says, in conversations she's now had with other Mollywood women, they've told her this same man assaulted them as well — and that he's one of a few men who appear to be repeat offenders. "These men are still reigning in this industry as powerful people," she says. "We have our Weinsteins here."

But when it comes to naming them publicly, that's where the parallel with Hollywood ends. Whereas Weinstein's accusers have been greeted with virtually universal support from both their colleagues in Hollywood and the wider public, Mollywood women say they worry the reception would be very different if they were to take on major figures.

"We would be plucked out. We would be hushed down," says Thiruvothu.

And not just because of the blaming and shaming that anyone reporting sexual assault in India may face. In India, being in the movie business in particular can open a woman to accusations of having loose morals, says Bina Paul, a veteran film editor: "It's considered rather taboo to enter cinema." So much so that the first hurdle a woman often faces to joining the industry is her family's disapproval.

Thiruvothu agrees. "Even now as an actor, the way I get comments on social media is that, 'Hey, you sleep around. You're not even a pure woman, you're just a whore."

So when cases do come to light, says Paul, "it's always twisted [as] she was willing to, or she wanted to get ahead in her career."

As for the film industry itself, Mollywood's treatment of the actress who was attacked in February hasn't inspired confidence among the women of the WCC. In July police charged one of the industry's most famous actors with hiring the gang that carried out the attack. According to the judge's summary, the prosecution alleges that the actor, Gopalakrishan Padmanabhan Pillai, who goes by the stage name Dileep, bore a grudge against the actress for precipitating the breakup of his marriage by conveying information about him to his then-wife, with whom the actress was close friends.

An attorney for Dileep says he was not involved in any way. And to the dismay of the women in the WCC, some of the most prominent men in Mollywood have started speaking out in Dileep's defense.

Kallingal, the actress who is close friends with the survivor of the February assault, does not dispute these men's right to maintain Dileep's innocence until he is proven guilty. But she says that by neglecting to simultaneously express concern for the actress they have been essentially conveying that "they stand with him and not with her." Worse, she says, "there are people who are questioning [the actress's] morality, her integrity, her character even."

Thiruvothu and others say this climate explains why few women in India's other film industries — including Bollywood — have come forward through the #metoo campaign that has proven so galvanizing in Hollywood.

"I have friends in every single Indian film industry," says Thiruvothu. "This is not just an issue of [Mollywood]."

How to change the culture of silence? The women of the WCC say they concluded that the first step was to band together.

"We thought our individual voices were not strong enough," says Kallingal. "So we should voice our opinion strongly together, in one voice."

Among their key demands is the establishment of a complaints committee with the power to investigate charges of sexual harassment and other forms of discrimination and to punish the perpetrators with sanctions ranging from reprimands to dismissal — even to legal charges, if warranted.

Indian law actually already requires companies of a certain size to institute such systems. But because the film industry functions more informally — with crews coming together for film shoots for several weeks, then disbanding — the assumption has been that the law does not apply. Now the WCC is consulting legal experts to assess if that's really true, and, even if so, what legal steps would be needed to set up a complaints adjudication system for their industry.

In May members of the WCC also met with the chief minister of the state of Kerala, who agreed to their request to appoint a commission that is now studying the question.

But while addressing harassment is a top priority, the WCC also wants to find ways to remedy a host of other forms of gender discrimination that its members say contribute to making their industry inhospitable to women: unequal pay; a lack of maternity benefits; failure by management to provide bathroom facilities for women on set; contracts that permit movie producers to substitute a nude body double without an actress's consent; and just a general culture of not treating women's contributions seriously.

"In every way they belittle you," says Kallingal.

They're also exploring ways to bring more young women into the industry — state-sponsored scholarships to study at film schools, for instance, or state laws that would incentivise companies to hire more women. And not just as actresses or hair stylists. Right now says Paul, "You don't have women gaffers. You don't have women technical staff. We're so outnumbered. You go on to a film set and there are three women and 80 men."

In addition the WCC is encouraging the industry's professional associations to start training workshops on appropriate workplace behavior. For instance, says Thiruvothu, the men who comment on a woman's body on set, "they really do feel that it is normal to do that and that it's actually a compliment."

But she says it's not just the men who need educating: "The women have been taught to giggle and allow it. We all are part of the problem. We all think it's okay."

Indeed the women say their conversations have made them realize how much they had internalized the view that they should minimize inappropriate behavior by men for the sake of keeping the peace.

Thiruvothu recalls how from childhood, whenever she was pinched or groped — like the time when she was 17 and a man at a shopping mall grazed his hands over her breasts and then just walked past — adults told her it was best not to make a scene.

"That's how society has trained us — to take it all in and implode," she says. "I think we've imploded enough. It's coming out now."

Freelance writer Chhavi Sachdev contributed reporting to this story.

[suzanneshannon]

Asynchronous Design Critique: Giving Feedback

Feedback, in whichever form it takes, and whatever it may be called, is one of the most effective soft skills that we have at our disposal to collaboratively get our designs to a better place while growing our own skills and perspectives.

Feedback is also one of the most underestimated tools, and often by assuming that we’re already good at it, we settle, forgetting that it’s a skill that can be trained, grown, and improved. Poor feedback can create confusion in projects, bring down morale, and affect trust and team collaboration over the long term. Quality feedback can be a transformative force. 

Practicing our skills is surely a good way to improve, but the learning gets even faster when it’s paired with a good foundation that channels and focuses the practice. What are some foundational aspects of giving good feedback? And how can feedback be adjusted for remote and distributed work environments? 

On the web, we can identify a long tradition of asynchronous feedback: from the early days of open source, code was shared and discussed on mailing lists. Today, developers engage on pull requests, designers comment in their favorite design tools, project managers and scrum masters exchange ideas on tickets, and so on.

Design critique is often the name used for a type of feedback that’s provided to make our work better, collaboratively. So it shares a lot of the principles with feedback in general, but it also has some differences.

The content

The foundation of every good critique is the feedback’s content, so that’s where we need to start. There are many models that you can use to shape your content. The one that I personally like best—because it’s clear and actionable—is this one from Lara Hogan.

While this equation is generally used to give feedback to people, it also fits really well in a design critique because it ultimately answers some of the core questions that we work on: What? Where? Why? How? Imagine that you’re giving some feedback about some design work that spans multiple screens, like an onboarding flow: there are some pages shown, a flow blueprint, and an outline of the decisions made. You spot something that could be improved. If you keep the three elements of the equation in mind, you’ll have a mental model that can help you be more precise and effective.

Here is a comment that could be given as a part of some feedback, and it might look reasonable at a first glance: it seems to superficially fulfill the elements in the equation. But does it?

Not sure about the buttons’ styles and hierarchy—it feels off. Can you change them?

Observation for design feedback doesn’t just mean pointing out which part of the interface your feedback refers to, but it also refers to offering a perspective that’s as specific as possible. Are you providing the user’s perspective? Your expert perspective? A business perspective? The project manager’s perspective? A first-time user’s perspective?

When I see these two buttons, I expect one to go forward and one to go back.

Impact is about the why. Just pointing out a UI element might sometimes be enough if the issue may be obvious, but more often than not, you should add an explanation of what you’re pointing out.

When I see these two buttons, I expect one to go forward and one to go back. But this is the only screen where this happens, as before we just used a single button and an “×” to close. This seems to be breaking the consistency in the flow.

The question approach is meant to provide open guidance by eliciting the critical thinking in the designer receiving the feedback. Notably, in Lara’s equation she provides a second approach: request, which instead provides guidance toward a specific solution. While that’s a viable option for feedback in general, for design critiques, in my experience, defaulting to the question approach usually reaches the best solutions because designers are generally more comfortable in being given an open space to explore.

The difference between the two can be exemplified with, for the question approach:

When I see these two buttons, I expect one to go forward and one to go back. But this is the only screen where this happens, as before we just used a single button and an “×” to close. This seems to be breaking the consistency in the flow. Would it make sense to unify them?

Or, for the request approach:

When I see these two buttons, I expect one to go forward and one to go back. But this is the only screen where this happens, as before we just used a single button and an “×” to close. This seems to be breaking the consistency in the flow. Let’s make sure that all screens have the same pair of forward and back buttons.

At this point in some situations, it might be useful to integrate with an extra why: why you consider the given suggestion to be better.

When I see these two buttons, I expect one to go forward and one to go back. But this is the only screen where this happens, as before we just used a single button and an “×” to close. This seems to be breaking the consistency in the flow. Let’s make sure that all screens have the same two forward and back buttons so that users don’t get confused.

Choosing the question approach or the request approach can also at times be a matter of personal preference. A while ago, I was putting a lot of effort into improving my feedback: I did rounds of anonymous feedback, and I reviewed feedback with other people. After a few rounds of this work and a year later, I got a positive response: my feedback came across as effective and grounded. Until I changed teams. To my shock, my next round of feedback from one specific person wasn’t that great. The reason is that I had previously tried not to be prescriptive in my advice—because the people who I was previously working with preferred the open-ended question format over the request style of suggestions. But now in this other team, there was one person who instead preferred specific guidance. So I adapted my feedback for them to include requests.

One comment that I heard come up a few times is that this kind of feedback is quite long, and it doesn’t seem very efficient. No… but also yes. Let’s explore both sides.

No, this style of feedback is actually efficient because the length here is a byproduct of clarity, and spending time giving this kind of feedback can provide exactly enough information for a good fix. Also if we zoom out, it can reduce future back-and-forth conversations and misunderstandings, improving the overall efficiency and effectiveness of collaboration beyond the single comment. Imagine that in the example above the feedback were instead just, “Let’s make sure that all screens have the same two forward and back buttons.” The designer receiving this feedback wouldn’t have much to go by, so they might just apply the change. In later iterations, the interface might change or they might introduce new features—and maybe that change might not make sense anymore. Without the why, the designer might imagine that the change is about consistency… but what if it wasn’t? So there could now be an underlying concern that changing the buttons would be perceived as a regression.

Yes, this style of feedback is not always efficient because the points in some comments don’t always need to be exhaustive, sometimes because certain changes may be obvious (“The font used doesn’t follow our guidelines”) and sometimes because the team may have a lot of internal knowledge such that some of the whys may be implied.

So the equation above isn’t meant to suggest a strict template for feedback but a mnemonic to reflect and improve the practice. Even after years of active work on my critiques, I still from time to time go back to this formula and reflect on whether what I just wrote is effective.

The tone

Well-grounded content is the foundation of feedback, but that’s not really enough. The soft skills of the person who’s providing the critique can multiply the likelihood that the feedback will be well received and understood. Tone alone can make the difference between content that’s rejected or welcomed, and it’s been demonstrated that only positive feedback creates sustained change in people.

Since our goal is to be understood and to have a positive working environment, tone is essential to work on. Over the years, I’ve tried to summarize the required soft skills in a formula that mirrors the one for content: the receptivity equation.

Respectful feedback comes across as grounded, solid, and constructive. It’s the kind of feedback that, whether it’s positive or negative, is perceived as useful and fair.

Timing refers to when the feedback happens. To-the-point feedback doesn’t have much hope of being well received if it’s given at the wrong time. Questioning the entire high-level information architecture of a new feature when it’s about to ship might still be relevant if that questioning highlights a major blocker that nobody saw, but it’s way more likely that those concerns will have to wait for a later rework. So in general, attune your feedback to the stage of the project. Early iteration? Late iteration? Polishing work in progress? These all have different needs. The right timing will make it more likely that your feedback will be well received.

Attitude is the equivalent of intent, and in the context of person-to-person feedback, it can be referred to as radical candor. That means checking before we write to see whether what we have in mind will truly help the person and make the project better overall. This might be a hard reflection at times because maybe we don’t want to admit that we don’t really appreciate that person. Hopefully that’s not the case, but that can happen, and that’s okay. Acknowledging and owning that can help you make up for that: how would I write if I really cared about them? How can I avoid being passive aggressive? How can I be more constructive?

Form is relevant especially in a diverse and cross-cultural work environments because having great content, perfect timing, and the right attitude might not come across if the way that we write creates misunderstandings. There might be many reasons for this: sometimes certain words might trigger specific reactions; sometimes nonnative speakers might not understand all the nuances of some sentences; sometimes our brains might just be different and we might perceive the world differently—neurodiversity must be taken into consideration. Whatever the reason, it’s important to review not just what we write but how.

A few years back, I was asking for some feedback on how I give feedback. I received some good advice but also a comment that surprised me. They pointed out that when I wrote “Oh, […],” I made them feel stupid. That wasn’t my intent! I felt really bad, and I just realized that I provided feedback to them for months, and every time I might have made them feel stupid. I was horrified… but also thankful. I made a quick fix: I added “oh” in my list of replaced words (your choice between: macOS’s text replacement, aText, TextExpander, or others) so that when I typed “oh,” it was instantly deleted. 

Something to highlight because it’s quite frequent—especially in teams that have a strong group spirit—is that people tend to beat around the bush. It’s important to remember here that a positive attitude doesn’t mean going light on the feedback—it just means that even when you provide hard, difficult, or challenging feedback, you do so in a way that’s respectful and constructive. The nicest thing that you can do for someone is to help them grow.

We have a great advantage in giving feedback in written form: it can be reviewed by another person who isn’t directly involved, which can help to reduce or remove any bias that might be there. I found that the best, most insightful moments for me have happened when I’ve shared a comment and I’ve asked someone who I highly trusted, “How does this sound?,” “How can I do it better,” and even “How would you have written it?”—and I’ve learned a lot by seeing the two versions side by side.

The format

Asynchronous feedback also has a major inherent advantage: we can take more time to refine what we’ve written to make sure that it fulfills two main goals: the clarity of communication and the actionability of the suggestions.

Let’s imagine that someone shared a design iteration for a project. You are reviewing it and leaving a comment. There are many ways to do this, and of course context matters, but let’s try to think about some elements that may be useful to consider.

In terms of clarity, start by grounding the critique that you’re about to give by providing context. Specifically, this means describing where you’re coming from: do you have a deep knowledge of the project, or is this the first time that you’re seeing it? Are you coming from a high-level perspective, or are you figuring out the details? Are there regressions? Which user’s perspective are you taking when providing your feedback? Is the design iteration at a point where it would be okay to ship this, or are there major things that need to be addressed first?

Providing context is helpful even if you’re sharing feedback within a team that already has some information on the project. And context is absolutely essential when giving cross-team feedback. If I were to review a design that might be indirectly related to my work, and if I had no knowledge about how the project arrived at that point, I would say so, highlighting my take as external.

We often focus on the negatives, trying to outline all the things that could be done better. That’s of course important, but it’s just as important—if not more—to focus on the positives, especially if you saw progress from the previous iteration. This might seem superfluous, but it’s important to keep in mind that design is a discipline where there are hundreds of possible solutions for every problem. So pointing out that the design solution that was chosen is good and explaining why it’s good has two major benefits: it confirms that the approach taken was solid, and it helps to ground your negative feedback. In the longer term, sharing positive feedback can help prevent regressions on things that are going well because those things will have been highlighted as important. As a bonus, positive feedback can also help reduce impostor syndrome.

There’s one powerful approach that combines both context and a focus on the positives: frame how the design is better than the status quo (compared to a previous iteration, competitors, or benchmarks) and why, and then on that foundation, you can add what could be improved. This is powerful because there’s a big difference between a critique that’s for a design that’s already in good shape and a critique that’s for a design that isn’t quite there yet.

Another way that you can improve your feedback is to depersonalize the feedback: the comments should always be about the work, never about the person who made it. It’s “This button isn’t well aligned” versus “You haven’t aligned this button well.” This is very easy to change in your writing by reviewing it just before sending.

In terms of actionability, one of the best approaches to help the designer who’s reading through your feedback is to split it into bullet points or paragraphs, which are easier to review and analyze one by one. For longer pieces of feedback, you might also consider splitting it into sections or even across multiple comments. Of course, adding screenshots or signifying markers of the specific part of the interface you’re referring to can also be especially useful.

One approach that I’ve personally used effectively in some contexts is to enhance the bullet points with four markers using emojis. So a red square 🟥 means that it’s something that I consider blocking; a yellow diamond 🔶 is something that I can be convinced otherwise, but it seems to me that it should be changed; and a green circle 🟢 is a detailed, positive confirmation. I also use a blue spiral 🌀 for either something that I’m not sure about, an exploration, an open alternative, or just a note. But I’d use this approach only on teams where I’ve already established a good level of trust because if it happens that I have to deliver a lot of red squares, the impact could be quite demoralizing, and I’d reframe how I’d communicate that a bit.

Let’s see how this would work by reusing the example that we used earlier as the first bullet point in this list:

🔶 Navigation—When I see these two buttons, I expect one to go forward and one to go back. But this is the only screen where this happens, as before we just used a single button and an “×” to close. This seems to be breaking the consistency in the flow. Let’s make sure that all screens have the same two forward and back buttons so that users don’t get confused.

🟢 Overall—I think the page is solid, and this is good enough to be our release candidate for a version 1.0.

🟢 Metrics—Good improvement in the buttons on the metrics area; the improved contrast and new focus style make them more accessible.

 🟥  Button Style—Using the green accent in this context creates the impression that it’s a positive action because green is usually perceived as a confirmation color. Do we need to explore a different color?

🔶Tiles—Given the number of items on the page, and the overall page hierarchy, it seems to me that the tiles shouldn’t be using the Subtitle 1 style but the Subtitle 2 style. This will keep the visual hierarchy more consistent.

🌀 Background—Using a light texture works well, but I wonder whether it adds too much noise in this kind of page. What is the thinking in using that?

What about giving feedback directly in Figma or another design tool that allows in-place feedback? In general, I find these difficult to use because they hide discussions and they’re harder to track, but in the right context, they can be very effective. Just make sure that each of the comments is separate so that it’s easier to match each discussion to a single task, similar to the idea of splitting mentioned above.

One final note: say the obvious. Sometimes we might feel that something is obviously good or obviously wrong, and so we don’t say it. Or sometimes we might have a doubt that we don’t express because the question might sound stupid. Say it—that’s okay. You might have to reword it a little bit to make the reader feel more comfortable, but don’t hold it back. Good feedback is transparent, even when it may be obvious.

There’s another advantage of asynchronous feedback: written feedback automatically tracks decisions. Especially in large projects, “Why did we do this?” could be a question that pops up from time to time, and there’s nothing better than open, transparent discussions that can be reviewed at any time. For this reason, I recommend using software that saves these discussions, without hiding them once they are resolved. 

Content, tone, and format. Each one of these subjects provides a useful model, but working to improve eight areas—observation, impact, question, timing, attitude, form, clarity, and actionability—is a lot of work to put in all at once. One effective approach is to take them one by one: first identify the area that you lack the most (either from your perspective or from feedback from others) and start there. Then the second, then the third, and so on. At first you’ll have to put in extra time for every piece of feedback that you give, but after a while, it’ll become second nature, and your impact on the work will multiply.

Thanks to Brie Anne Demkiw and Mike Shelton for reviewing the first draft of this article.

Asynchronous Design Critique: Giving Feedback published first on https://deskbysnafu.tumblr.com/

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING PEOPLE

Dilution is a hard problem. I don't think they'd do much differently if they were merely hiring people. And yet when I was growing up.1 Jessica more than anyone made YC unique, the very qualities that enabled her to do things that ordinary companies don't, like raising money and getting incorporated are an O 1 pain in the ass, whether you're big or small, and others like selling and promotion depend more on energy and imagination than any kind of special training. But within three days we loved it, and he was right. When you want to keep in close touch as you develop it further. If you have impressive resumes, just flash them on the screen for 15 seconds and say a few words.2 If you don't believe your startup has such promise that you'd be doing them a favor by letting them invest, why are you investing your time in it?3 It's pretty clear now that the broken windows theory famous, and the only reason you need them is to make credentials harder to hack, we can also make them matter less. I count them as false positives because I hadn't been deleting them as spams before.

Angels don't like publicity. A sharp impact would make them unavailable to the people who think they don't need to: it lets them choose their growth rate is, sometimes they tell me we get about a hundred new customers a month. There isn't so much at stake in his interactions with other investors, his relationship with the founder is only going to last a couple years, whereas his relationship with other firms will last his whole career.4 For startups, growth is a constraint much like truth. Whatever its flaws, the writing you find online is authentic. If they stepped back and looked at the whole picture they might be less indignant.5 But startups often raise money even when they are or could be profitable. Seem confident. I think the problem with politics too. Probably the most important thing we do at Y Combinator. Most founders have such low standards that they'll feel rich with a sum that doesn't seem huge to investors. So one advantage of forbidding meanness is that it isn't succinct enough.6

As this new kind of venture fund that invests smaller amounts at lower valuations, but promises to either close or say no very quickly. They're as expert in their world as you are in yours. Apparently Kleiner and Sequoia with a $75 million premoney valuation, their reaction was probably Ouch! And they may be right. Disasters are normal in a startup, you're probably going to have to think of something. They know they'll have to deal with these guys was in high school. If a post has a linkbait title, editors sometimes rephrase it to be more readable than a line of Basic is likely to be more matter-of-fact. Why spend twenty years climbing the corporate ladder when you can get rewarded directly by the market?7 Focusing on hitting a growth rate reduces the otherwise bewilderingly multifarious problem of starting a startup into trouble.

A recruiter at a big company, these qualities must have been very valuable. For example, many of the stories about Jeremy Jaynes's conviction say that he was a fairly big spammer. If someone proves a new theorem, it takes some work by the reader to decide whether or not to upvote it. If you write software to teach Tibetan to Hungarians, you won't be selling the company for 20. The reason I warn startups not to get their hopes up is not to describe everything your system might one day become, but simply to convince investors there will be a lot simpler. A rapidly growing company is valuable. That was an unusual problem to have in 1975. It shows no sign of slowing. We decided we ought to give priority to the ones that occur a lot.

As a rule, any url sent to millions of people in America, have some amount of funding to get started painting that ten minutes of rearranging feels very long. The other kind of spams I currently do have trouble with. That has always seemed to me full of random stuff. The whole tone is bogus. But they might as well flip a coin. But working on this is not my first priority, it's unlikely to happen at all. Always have some alternative plan for getting started if any given investor says no. They're hard to filter based just on the content because the headers are innocent and they're careful about the words they use. Everyone buys this story that PG started YC and his wife just kind of helped.8

I thought I'd already been cured of caring about that.9 So in borderline cases, and reports that it works well.10 6x.11 And they may be right. Every successful startup is at least partly a product of the imagination of man, he meant that if you just keep following the truth wherever it leads rather than being influenced by what he wishes were the case.12 If you're going to start with something that doesn't do much, you better improve it fast.13 Maybe there is some important trend afoot.

Notes

For example, would be possible to have to give up legal protections and rely on cold calls and introductions.

Like us, the average employee. There's nothing specifically white about such matters. No central goverment would put its two best universities in the same price as the cause. The philistines have now missed the video boat entirely.

It is a bit dishonest, incidentally; it's not uncommon for startups. Or demolished to be younger initially we encouraged undergrads to apply, and why it's such a low valuation, that probably doesn't make A more powerful sororities at your school, because the rich. By all means crack down on these. This is, because you couldn't do the same reason I did the section of the infrastructure that this had since been exceeded by actors buying their startups.

But I know one very smooth founder who read a new version sanitized for your present valuation is the discrepancy between government receipts as a cause.

It's interesting to 10,000 computers attached to the customer: you post a sign saying this cupboard must be kept empty.

It's much easier to make money from mediocre investors. We could have used another algorithm and everything I say in principle get us up to 20x, since that was more rebellion which can happen in any case, because a she is very common for the talk to mediocre ones. Most computer/software startups. Though in fact had its own.

The reason Y Combinator certainly never asks what classes you took in college.

The Duty of Genius, Penguin, 1991. Possible exception: It's hard for us. It tipped from being overshadowed by Microsoft, would increase the size of the next year or two, and mostly in Perl, and this trick merely forces you to stop, but it is to get good grades in them, maybe 50% to 100% more, and I don't think these are, but countless other startups, so we also give any startup that wants to invest in your startup.

If Ron Conway, for example I've deliberately avoided saying whether the program is no. Since they don't have to do is fund medical research labs; commercializing whatever new discoveries the boffins throw off is as straightforward as building a new version of Word 13. Usually people skirt that issue with some equivocation implying that you're talking to you; you're too early for us!

This argument seems to have to resort to in order to switch the operating system.

Cit. So you can base brand on anything with it, but it wasn't. The angels had convertible debt is a convertible note with no valuation cap at all.

That would be reluctant to start a startup. Robert Morris wrote the editor written in C and Perl. Why Are We Getting a Divorce? Perhaps realizing this will be out of their professional code segregate themselves from the conventional wisdom on the ability to predict at the final whistle, the less powerful language by writing an interpreter for the same, but most neighborhoods successfully resisted them.

It's hard to judge for yourself and that the word content and tried for a small amount, or how to do better, because she liked the outdoors, was starting an outdoor portal. The first alone yields someone flighty. There should probably start from the success of their times.

[vivianashanahan]

Problem Solving Information and Tips

Dark enchantment in bangalore outfits genuine and accepted precious stone looking organizations with all language customer care in endless each moment of consistently. Numerous Years of association with Numerology, Palmistry, Horoscope, Nadi precious stone looking, gemology, Face scrutinizing, Kundli, Vaasthu, and more soothsaying organizations. According to Horoscope and Vedic kind of soothsaying we are best in offering sorts of help for a wide scope of issues like Love Problem Solution, Health Problems, Marriage Problems, Children Problems, Court Case Problems, and that is only the start. Ensures 100% Confidentiality and Hassle-Free experience just barely at your moderate expenses. 

Black magic in bangalore values scrutinizing the exacting and significant messages and gets inspiration from these outdated sciences. Our organizations rely upon the eagerness for this Astro science nearby Many long periods of experience and wide data in vedic gem looking. Expansive data, numerous long stretches of understanding and fantastic ability to see every sort of issue and situation. Ability to give wide mental guide while coordinating customers 

With the help of tantra and mantra drawn in with Vashikaran your love will connect with you from their end. Vashikaran can even devour the fire of those nostalgic feelings in the center of your lost love and consequently you will get that individual back to your life.Vashikaran even incorporates some custom and wearing of a part of the animated thing like yantra, token, etc. 

Black magic expert in bangalore is a prominent and mainstream dull charm departure ace, who gives the right making a beeline for those searching for counsel on the most ideal approach to discard it. Whether or not it is aggression between friends, mates, sweethearts, and family members or whether it is issues related to your calling, the whole technique of dull charm departure incorporates aptitudes to effectively control others' cerebrums to get the perfect results. Guruji is an incredibly experienced and a serious expert with respect to dull charm removal. Whatever the explanation behind difficulty, he is skilful enough to clear out all issues for the duration of regular daily existence and usher in happiness for the people who search for his lord's assistance. 

There is no one who has been seeing somebody that wouldn't get debilitated, with the exception of if the person being referred to really didn't venerate their ex. Well the completion of the story can be front told, in case you love your ex and you genuinely miss them, you can get them over into your mindful arms. Love can't be denied. Or on the other hand possibly the relentlessness of friendship can't be denied its aching. Keep attempting in your push to get your ex, darling, companion or spouse and you wouldn't be denied your effort. There's no one who is glad to get obliged with an ex sweetheart and has had a go at everything and gone beyond what many would consider possible and all the 'how' that doesn't get them. Beside the circumstance that there wasn't any veneration existing among the two parts in their relationship regardless. It's not over whether or not your ex says the individual being referred to isn't enthused about the relationship any more. Do whatever it takes not to give up, it's not completed, you can get exculpating and get your ex back in case you follow capable direction. An a tiny bit at a time plan given by a relationship ace will contain mental tricks on how you can get your ex back. In case you are mentioning that how get my ex back, you can get second exonerating, get obliged and get your ex back to you, essentially follow clever direction. I'm giving some here and around the completion of this article you can tap on joins that will take you to districts of relationship pros that can help anyone through the route toward obliging and getting an ex back. Beginning to scrutinize this article you will after a short time learn ways which you apply to your wrecked relationship that will help get your ex darling back significantly more straightforward than you imagined. My Ex Boyfriend, Girlfriend, Wife, Husband Won't Forgive Me 

Using cerebrum science, a huge amount of our relationship authorities explain the importance of having an euphoric and cheerful air when in a correspondence with an ex darling. Whether or not you thump on them on them making the rounds, meet them on social goals; facebook, for whatever circumstance, you should keep a splendid attitude.My Ex Boyfriend, Girlfriend, Wife, Husband Won't Forgive Me 

In case you didn't sabotage your ex, a specific face is what you should portray. As you walk, talk and act with sureness, your ex will see the definite side of you. Not shivering in light of the fact that they left you, not free for all and unnerved of losing them. They; the individual will begin to see that they need you more than you need them. By showing yourself sure, you are acquainting yourself with your ex, darling, mate or spouse to such an extent that shows you are strong and can manage the enthusiastic condition admirably. No ifs, ands or buts they will get jealous soon. You can expect that your ex will think of you as a fit person who can get by without them; you have your downturn on. This spots you in an all the more fair state; balance and certainty is yours now. My Ex Boyfriend, Girlfriend, Wife, Husband Won't Forgive Me

[alladz39-blog]

Hi,

Claude Davis here - father, husband, survivalist, old-west expert and author of The Lost Ways.

I've always been passionate by what I think was a better, far more self-sufficient country filled with rugged individuals who knew how to survive anything life threw at them.

I'm talking about the men and women who built America from the ground up.

In the Lost Ways I've managed to save many of their forgotten skills. That book has already helped more than 250.000 Americans just like you prepare for the next crisis.

But the truth is we've lost so many of our forefathers' skills that I couldn't fit them in a single book.

So, I've decided to write a second one to save them all.

It's called The Lost Ways II and this is probably your only chance to grab a physical copy.

Here is just a small glimpse of what you'll find in this massive 300-page sequel (in color) to The Lost Ways:

A lost super-food will bulletproof you against any food shortage or famine. It's a food that vanished with the Incas over 6 centuries ago. This mysterious dish was just recently rediscovered by NASA who has been giving away rations of it to our brave men and women in their month-long space missions. The Incas stored it in pit holes for up to 10 years, ate it year-round, and actually used it to survive a 4 year long super-drought that wiped out their southern neighbors. So, if it managed to save the Incas centuries ago and it still works for our astronauts today, you can bet your last dollar it will keep you and your family well fed in any crisis. And the best part is that you probably already have the ingredients in your kitchen right now.

Another food that you'll find in The Lost Ways 2 was a staple meal during the great depression. Not only that you'll discover the pioneering secrets of making lard the right way, but I'll also show you how to preserve meat in lard in mason jars for over 2 years without refrigeration. I personally use this method on a regular basis and I bet you 50 bucks that, unlike most survival foods that you can find on the market... this is the most finger-licking, mouth-watering, tastiest meat you'll ever eat.

The third long-lasting food that should make its way into your pantry was invented by one of the most vicious samurai in history. This food is also known as The Lost Samurai Superfood. It was born out of war and necessity, so it's packed with rich nutrients and probiotics. The samurai took this food with them whenever they left to wage war against their enemies for months on end. They didn't need anything else.

I'll also reveal to you the lost method of building log houses that was used by the pioneers who settled in the West. Using this simple method, you can build your own log cabin where you can take shelter in a crisis or spend your holidays and enjoy the happiness that comes with a simple life. One of our readers, Kaylee, started building her cabin a few weeks ago using the method that you'll find in The Lost Ways - second edition. She's almost finished building her own log cabin with only $500 spent so far. It's still a work in progress, but most of it is done.

One of the most important things that you'll master is the lost skill of wild plants. With the development of agriculture and medicine, man became less dependent on wild plants and this crucial knowledge was no longer taught. Native Americans ate over one thousand plants, yet most people nowadays know fewer than 20 different species. This is by far the biggest chapter because it contains almost all the edible and medicinal plants in North America, and it has colored pictures so you can easily identify them. Each one has comprehensive instructions on how to eat it or use it as a remedy.

Since you might find yourself in this situation of not knowing for sure and because you might not always have The Lost Ways 2 with you, I'll also teach you how the Native Americans easily tested any plant with 100% confidence to see if it was edible or not before eating it. You'll regain this lost method and be able to use it whenever you go out foraging, whenever a new plant makes its way into your backyard, or in tough times.

With fewer and fewer people knowing this lost skill, you'll be one of the few who never runs out of food or medicines.

You'll also discover how the pioneers from the Wild West hunted deer and how they tanned hides without chemicals and without spending a dime. You'll also find out how to butcher a deer and what parts are best for certain preservation methods. You'll learn how to wisely use every part of the deer just like our forefathers did: to make tallow, a cool knife handle, a bow string, glue, or even a needle. You won't have to wait for a collapse to come for this one. You'll use this lost skill whenever you or your friends go out hunting.

Rediscover how to get the highest purity charcoal...the old fashion way and also turn it into activated charcoal. I'll show you how to use the activated charcoal to build yourself a simple and reliable water filter that can clean 800 gallons of water. When all the water is contaminated, and all you can find are muddy creeks and pools with diseases running rampant you'll keep your loved ones drinking crystal-clear healthy water.

You'll discover how I made my own activated charcoal pills that I use whenever I have indigestion, to lower my bad cholesterol levels and to prevent gas. Fortunately, I have never had to use them in extreme situations but activated charcoal pills are very useful in treating acute food and chemical poisoning too. Trust me when I say that your medicine cabinet is not complete without these natural pills.

You'll also see an ingenious method used by some wise settlers to dig their wells in no time, without much work and without spending a dollar. How great will it feel when there is no running water to be able to use this lost method and build your own well with fresh water in your backyard?

These are just a few of the many lost skills you'll find in The Lost Ways 2 that you'll be able to use in a crisis or around your house to help you save money or be self-sufficient just like our grandparents were.

The Lost Ways 2 ended up being larger than the first one with illustrations and pictures along the way.

But this limited edition cannot be found in stores. This offer is only available to a selected few. So, if you leave this page, you won't be able to find it anywhere else. Don't miss out on this opportunity to buy The Lost Ways II - hardcover and complete your collection.

And if you get The Lost Ways II right now... you'll also receive two exclusive Bonuses that will be off the table soon.

The first report you'll get is called:

"How To Become Self-Sufficient On 4 Acres Of Land":

The report was made especially for people who want to have a self-sufficient homestead. I'll show you exactly how to build and how to divide the land into small sections to get the most out of it:

I will also show you what to build around the house to store and filter rainwater, to preserve food, to defend your home, to live without electricity and many, many more like the small medicinal garden you need to have in your backyard.

The second report you'll get is:

"What Do You Need to Have Ready Before An EMP"

We all know that an EMP is America's Achilles heel! But it wasn't always the case and it surely doesn't have to be for you. If an EMP hits America tomorrow, there are 43 things you need to have ready in advance. Things you won't be able to find afterwards. It's nothing glamorous, but it's probably the most practical and accurate information you'll ever find. And that's because it's taken straight from people living off the grid

But these two free reports are not the end of it.

Your purchase today will also be fully covered by my Handshake Money Back Guarantee for 60 days and unlimited e-mails to me to ask me whatever you want and clarify any and all uncertainties.

So, if for any reason at all you want to get your money back, you'll be able to do that within 24 hours from sending me a refund request. You don't even have to answer any questions. Simply drop me a quick e-mail on my website anytime in the next 60 days. A full TWO MONTHS to read and apply the knowledge found in The Lost Ways II - risk free! That's my handshake guarantee!

Click here to buy