#like please stop letting these bum ass men disrespect you!!

[spurgie-cousin]

it makes me irrationally mad when girls from my hometown post passive aggressive captions about being with some guy for so long and not being engaged. like "10 years together and no ring, but I love you so I guess I'll let you live 🤪🤪" it happens SO much

i'm sorry but either propose yourself or ask some hard questions, like what kind of person would string you along knowing this was an important milestone for you, and is this the kind of person you want to be with forever?? cmon Tayler

[maddogofshimano]

Goromi Character Story

I really liked this one even if it was a pain in the ass to translate. Damn all that kansai slang! I have some pics to go with this one unlike the Goromi Event where I forgot to take any screencaps.

Character stories are split into three parts with a fight in each part, and this one will be a little more paraphrased because there’s a lot of back and forth dialogue that doesn’t matter too much. Here’s Goromi’s card!

Summary: Turns out it takes several days for Kiryu to actually show up to club SHINE to meet Goromi (he’s busy!) so Goromi spends her time working there and taking care of problems. She’s not the number one hostess for nothing!

<Part 1> <Majima Goro, as Goromi, has been working at club SHINE for several days now> The shop manager has been having to deal with this and he doesn’t know what to do.

Majima shows up again, as usual, and the manager fumbles over himself on whether to say Majima or Goromi

He asks if Kiryu has shown up yet and Majima complains before heading to the back to get changed, where Goromi continues to complain that she’s a good woman and Kiryu is a horrible lazy bum for standing her up for so long. She’s bored to death! (I wonder, does Majima leave the Goromi outfit at the club or take it with home each time?)

A rowdy customer comes in and makes a scene and Goromi steps in to wallop on him, because she’s bored and he spilled a drink on her dress.  <Fight Happens> Goromi wins, easily, and makes him leave his wallet. The manager pulls her into the backroom to tell her that she can’t fight customers. Goromi counters that she can’t allow a threat to women to go unchecked. 

Another hostess on the floor shouts at a customer to stop because touching is forbidden. Goromi says that sounds like trouble, she might as well handle it since Kiryu hasn’t shown up yet. The manager says absolutely not, those are Sakamoto Family men (probably, it’s not spoken out loud but Sakamoto is the most common reading).

The manager goes out to deal with it and gets hit by a Sakamoto Family goon for his trouble, but the guy leaves. Turns out the Sakamoto Family has been showing up a lot and never paying, and it’s a real pain. Goromi tells him to get his act together and fight back already! The manager says there’s no way he can win, going along with them is the best way to protect the club. Goromi calls him a coward, and leaves. <Part 2>

<the next day> Majima once again shows up and has a brief struggle with the wig until... Tada! A perfect Goromi~❤️

Goromi is certain Kiryu-chan will show up today! He definitely will! ...Why the hell hasn’t he shown up yet? She notices yet another unruly customer, once again a Sakamoto Family goon, hassling the manager, but this time she just watches. The manager tries to explain that the rules clearly state you aren’t allowed to touch the hostesses, and gets hit for it again. He stands back up, repeats himself, and gets punched another time. The goon grabs the hostess and says they’re going to the bathroom together.

Goromi steps in to stop him, but the manager beats her to it, and finally hits the guy back. He’s remembering what Goromi-san said to him... He’s not going to run away!!

<Fight Happens>

Manager gets his ass KICKED, goon taunts him and says he’d never win in a million years. Manager gets back up anyways, tells him he has to leave... just in time for the patriarch of the Sakamoto Family to arrive. He’s heard this is a fun place, and wants to sit with a lady ASAP. His goon shouts at the manager, the manager fumbles, and Goromi steps in.

Sakamoto thinks this is just great, that eyepatch is really getting his fighting spirit going! His lackey is less sure. The manager tries to step in, Goromi cuts him and says she’ll be his hostess tonight. Sakamoto is falling over himself trying to offer Goromi a seat, he’s just smitten.

The manager wonders what Goromi is up to...

<Part 3>

We start off immediately with Sakamoto telling Goromi how cute she is, and how much he likes her, and that she’s got a real tight lil butt.

“Stoooop~, ya pervy patriarch❤️” 

Sakamoto says he really like Goromi, too many girls nowadays would throw a fit if he grabbed their ass. The manager is wondering what the hell is going on, why is Goromi being so nice??

Sakamoto asks what kind of men Goromi likes. She likes strong, beefy guys, of course! Sakamoto says that she’s gonna love him then. Sakamoto: I was the strongest guy in his whole town! I’ve heard that the strongest guy in Kamurocho’s the patriarch of the Majima family, some moron named Majima Goro. Goromi: Oh, is that so? Sakamoto: I’m pretty sure him being crazy strong’s just a silly rumor though. If I were up against him it’d be like beating up a baby. Goromi: Woahhhh, that’s so cool~ 🎵 All that strength is really making my heart beat fast~

Sakamoto lets Goromi order whatever she likes from the menu. The manager worries that she’s going to order a fight! But no, she just asks for Don Perignon, the most expensive thing on the menu. And she convinces him to get 10 bottles of it.

<2 hours pass>

Sakamoto: Bahaha! Goromi-chan, you're the best girl of them all! Goromi: Before ya go I got one more thing for ya Mr. Patriarch! Sakamoto: Ehhhh, is it a kiss~ Goromi: It's your bill! Sakamoto: Ah....? Haha, great joke Goromi-chan! Goromi: It ain't no joke! Between the drinks and the service... you've racked up 5 million yen. How would ya like to pay that?  Sakamoto: Now hold on, I ain't payin' that! Even if you're cute!! Goromi: Eh, you really won't pay? Sakamoto: No! I absolutely will not pay!! Goromi: So that mean's you're not a customer now, is that right?

Goromi: Since you're not a customer, Goromi can be a little... rough Sakamoto: Tch, boys, let's teach this lady a little discipline! Goromi: Discipline....? Idiots, Goromi is the butterfly that dances in the night. I don't take orders from anyone, especially morons like you!! <Fight Happens, Goromi obliterates them> Sakamoto: You, you're actually...! Goromi: What are ya talking about? I'm Goromi, Kamurocho's number one hostess. Goromi: If you disrespect the women of this city... I'll show you a world of hurt. Sakamoto: W-Wahhhhh!! P-Please forgive me!! Goromi: From now on you're banned. Don't let me see your face here again. Got it?  Sakamoto: Y-yes ma'am! I understand! P-Please excuse me... Goromi: Wait. You still got a bill to pay. Sakamoto: Wh- um, well, I don't have that much right now... Goromi: Haw? Then why'd you eat and drink so much! You got some nerve takin' whatever ya fancied. But... I could forgive ya if you go on an after hours date with me. Sakamoto: ...Eh? Goromi: Until the money's collected, we're going on dates. ...Be prepared. 

<the next day> Manager: Majima-san, thank you so much. Goromi: Eh? What're you talkin' about. This is just Goromi gettin' paid properly for her work. Manager: Ah. I see. Goromi: And... I'm glad you stood up for your girls. Ya finally showed your guts. You've got a real good crew here, keep workin' to be the best. Manager: Th-thank you so much! Uhuuuuuu! Goromi: Don't get all emotional and cry! I'm countin' on having your full cooperation when it comes to fighting Kiryu-chan! Manager: Yes ma'am! By all means.   Door Greeter: Maji- I mean, Goromi-san! K-Kiryu-san is coming here!! Goromi: Ohh, nice timing! Well, let's do this thing! Manager: Yes! <Goromi goes to greet Kiryu at the door> Goromi: Heyyy, it's Goromi~  

<END>

Another bonus fact that relates to both this and the event: the rggo twitter put up a poll asking everyone which of these girls was their favorite

(Lady that does the gatcha rolls, Mayumi from rggo’s story, Yuki, and badly photoshopped Goromi)

in a shock to no one reading this, Goromi obliterated the vote, coming in just shy of 80%...

...which was apparently a shock to the staff! They immediately tweeted "Goromi got 80%...! What a crazy result 😵 We're having an emergency planning meeting now. Thank you all for voting so much!"

I have to wonder if this was a turning point in how they wrote Goromi, with the event and substory presenting her as not strictly a one off occurrence! Maybe the fan enthusiasm got them to take her a little more seriously

[molachaka]

bonding (1/3) - pillars (crack)

When the pillars decided to have a slumber party; everything became... questionable.

"Oh my kami." Muichirou couldn't. He couldn't. Who is this person in front of him – this is not natural. This is disrespect.

He silently dragged his fingers down his face - the make-up not even moving an inch away from the beautiful woman that he’d stare at for a dead minute in front of that mirror.

The way his long hair pinned in a shimada style made his head ache, but it ached even more at the sight of the proud motherly look emanating from the insect hashira besides her. That, and the whole set of eyes staring (judging) him down at this transformation.

"Everyone." The mist pillar hid his face with his kimono sleeve; denying others to see the glorious flower he’d finally become. "Please, don’t."

"Muichirou have finally accepted who he is." (Name) dried her tears with a handkerchief - too genuine to even call her reaction as fake. "Beautiful, isn't he?"

Everyone, except for the few males in the room, nodded in agreement. The poor mist hashira's temple bulged a vein at her statement.

"Why do I feel violated?" He blurted out loud, wanting to break down at this mockery he's forced to be in.

"Yeah, no shit." Obanai remarked besides the boy. The snake pillar put a hand on Muichirou's shoulder, making the poor mist jump on his seat at the sudden contact. "We will celebrate your loss."

Muichirou was this close to punch his comrade but he stopped himself when he realized wasn’t even looking at him, but rather – below him.

Why... why is the snake pillar staring at his groin like that.

"He was so young--" Tengen cried besides Obanai, tears streaming down on his face as he cups his mouth in despair. "Now, he'd became a beautiful-" pause, cue tear falling down dramatically; "-flamboyant girl."

"Uhm…"

"They grew up so fast." Gyomei stated in the background, he too, drying his never-ending tears. "So, so fast. I pray for his soul in their safe descent."

"HAhahahHahhahHahahaHa!!!!" @ Sanemi.com.

"Q-quit acting as if I've died!” Muichirou’s embarrassed form flushed in anger, before turning to Sanemi and throwing a sake battle at the wind pillar – who dodged it miraculously by rolling on the floor chortling. “And stop laughing!"

He defended himself, stubborn crystal appearing at the edge of his lids - capturing every girl's attention in the mess hall as they rush towards him as if they're mother hens trying to protect their gender-confused chick.

"Don't bully our beauty! That's unkind!" Mitsuri berated the men in the room, pouting as she does. Tengen want to say shit, but Shinobu raised an ominous glowing lipstick in warning, shouting him up.

Everyone would shut up in the face of a glowing lipstick, mind you.

Muichirou looked up at his female companions in epiphany, the torture they have bestowed on him slowly being forgotten as they protect whatever dignity is left on him.

Could they be? A trail of tear fell on the floor from shaky mint eyes. Are they really concerned for him?

"You…" The mist hashira sniffled in joy, feeling protected despite the condition he's in. (Name) came by besides their jeweled geisha and dried his upcoming tears with the handkerchief she used before.

It was stupidly wet, but the boy couldn’t argue about it as he hugged her daintily – the woman squealing inside her mind as her heart kept plunging down a nonexistent knife in her chest.

She took him in her hands and patted his head – careful not to ruin the wonderful hair style that matched the goddess in her arms.

"Shh, my baby girl, don't cry." Okay, the mist hashira want to cry because of that. "Your beautiful make up would be ruined."

Muichirou was about to let his tears flow like unbridled waterfalls, but only managing to choke at the loud voice announcing that his back.

Kyoujurou bursts in the room with a steaming bucket of large sake bottle in in his hands - hair unruly as his yukata, which is falling off from his frame – exposing almost everything if it weren’t for the obi tied snugly on his waist. Beads of sweat are rolling down on his chiseled frame, almost as if he just got out from a work out that consists of fetching alcohol from the kitchen.

Tengen choked on his sushi at the sight while Obanai made sure to cover Kaburamaru’s eyes – of which the snake just slithered around to stare at the hotness that entered the room.

(Name) gasped loudly before hugging Muichirou to her chest, making the poor hashira embarrassed beyond compare from being squeezed in the valley of nirvana. “Have some decency!” She cried, throwing her haori on the glistening man who caught it with his head. “We have a maiden in here!”

The flame hashira just chortled at that and used the haori like towel around his neck.

"Whose thirsty?!" Kyoujurou screeched happily. (Name) raised her hand in lightning speed, but the expression her face was another term for being thirsty – and it was soon replaced with a sheepish laughter when everyone gave her a gloomy look.

“That’s the spirit!” Kyoujurou pumped, giving (Name) a bottle of steaming sake but what’s steaming is her resolve not to touch that fleshed masterpiece, damn it. “Who else’s thirsty?”

Hunched with his abs defined like that, Tengen couldn’t help but stare with a sharp expression, slowly raising both of his hands to which Sanemi and Obanai quickly slapped down.

After the alcohol was evenly distributed to everyone – except for Muichirou because his innocence must be protected always - the scream of Kyoujurou’s father shook the frame of the house, echoing on the walls of the Rengoku estate as the little Senjurou shouted to his father with words of crying comfort.

“Where did you get the sake from Kyoujurou-san?” Giyuu appeared in the corner all of a sudden, giving half the room a scare: Mitsuri holding on Shinobu with a frightened scream and the insect pillar grabbing on the love hasira’s boobs in reflex and was about to use it to throw on the intruder (until she realized that this is not a weapon of war but a weapon for bed) and just groped it instead. Sanemi did not let out a girly scream, he’s pretty sure Obanai did.

Obanai is looking at Sanemi and is pretty sure that girly scream came from the wind pillar. Tengen is staring at the both of them down with a look of constipation because he just heard the two pretty much scream like a girl.

"These?” Kyoujurou raised the half-empty bucket. “I got these from my old man's reserve so they're bound to be good!" There was not even an ounce of guilt on his face. Everyone gave him undivided respect, except for those who fear the wrath of the older and uglier Rengoku.

"That's really bad Kyou-kun!" Mitsuri stated with both hands on her hips – Shinobu’s hand is still latched on her boobs - not reading the atmosphere of the room looming at the act of theft. "Do you even regret stealing from him?"

Kyoujurou blinked at the love pillar with an eerie grin - making her uncomfortable - before laughing boisterously at the question. "Nope!" He then added with a broken stare, "Why would I when these sake came from my allowance?"

"..."

…well, no one should complain about the free drink in the first place.

"Wait." (Name) gestured at Muichirou - putting a blanket around his shoulders – whose pretty much nose bleeding. "Do you want some alcohol, baby girl?"

“He’s too young to drink.” Giyuu reminded everyone because the poor mist hashira pretty blanked out from getting boobified. Kyoujurou let out a gasped akin to a katana scratching glass. “We got an Okama entertaining us?!” He then turns and looked at the area where the male hashiras gathered. “You all got weird tastes!”

Sanemi raised his hand and threw an empty cup at Kyoujurou’s head, Obanai and Tengen joining. Gyomei coughed out his sake, Giyuu on the other hand, missed his mouth and ended up drinking with his eyes.

“What?” Mitsuri crouched besides (Name) and grabbed unto the unconscious hashira, nose still bleeding as she tried shaking him awake. “He’s our entertainer?”

“Tengen was supposed to hire some courtesans to entertain us.” Gyomei soured his expression. “We don’t need any of that.”

“Exactly!” Tengen turned to Gyomei and pointed at the four female in the room. “We have pretty girls to stare at,” He gave them a charming smile. “Don’t you say so ladies?”

Of course, (Name) and Mitsuri giggled happily, but Shinobu and Muichirou is having none of it. The former knowing that Tengen’s just a cheapskate while the latter's waking up from the absurdity of the flamboyant man.

“You’re just pretty damn cheap.” Muichirou sneered, to which (Name) hushed. “Sh, you don’t talk to the adults like that, baby girl.”

Muichirou pretty much lost his face at that.

"You have a child, (Name)-chan?" Warm wide eyes of the flaming hotness landed on the transformed lad, brightening at the sight of them and effectively making the mist hashira blush away from the stare.

Kyoujurou basically forced his face on the mist hashira and nodded. “I like this new lipstick trend they have on!” The Rengoku pointed at the trail of red below the mist’s nose. “Boy, the Shimabara’s growing fetish is pretty wild huh?” Tengen wheezed, but nodded nonetheless. “It’s a new trend called despair.”

Kyoujurou looked down at the boy-turned-girl and put his thumbs up like a life motivator. “Pretty accurate!”

Muichirou choked on his nose bleed and asked the lord, why.

“Don’t joke about my child like that, Kyoujurou.” (Name) scoffed, slapping the man’s ass because that’s what they’ve been staring at for the last few minutes. Giyuu raised his hand on his mouth from that ministration, blushing on his corner. “O-oh.”

“Don’t ‘oh’ that stupid stunt, scum” Sanemi bashed, throwing his palm behind Giyuu’s unmoving head. “It’s disgusting – right Obanai?!”

Obanai was nowhere on his cushion beside Sanemi, but rather, kneeling down besides (Name) with his ass up. “Do me next, Mitsuri. (Name).” He turned his head towards the two female.

“I don’t know.” Mitsuri sighed and patted the presented bum and patted Kyoujurou’s thick one. “It’s pretty flat…”

“Slap me!” Obanai screamed with resolve, a battle cry that is more fitting on a love hotel than Kyoujurou’s mess hall.

“Well… a butt is a butt.” (Name) was about to do the honor in Obanai’s excitement but of course, Shinobu took the prestige away by kicking that pancake away from them. “We’re not your damn mother, fool.”

Gyomei is literally questioning what’s happening in this room right now…?

Kyoujurou laughed, before turning to Muichirou and (Name). “Is he really your child?”

Muichirou shook his head, and she nodded hers. Of course, flame hashira is biased so he took her agreement over Muichirou’s dejection. "They're as beautiful as you! They must have taken their features from their father!"

The mist hashira is asking the Buddha what earthly sin have he committed to face this injustice.

"Oh, you!" (Name) could not help but put both her hands on her cheeks, gushing at that compliment. "Of course, they'll take their beauty from me!"

What is it so he can repent.

"Please." Giyuu spoke up in the corner of the room; his expression looks akin to one bearing the death of a loved one’s pet. "This is unbecoming of us."

“Why didn’t you say that when (Name) slapped Kyoujurou’s ass.” Uzui scoffed as he sipped on his drink with a knowing smirk to the water hashira.

Giyuu’s cheeks turned pink, but it ended when Sanemi gripped his stomach and started laughing like an escaped mental. Something inside the water pillar snapped and looked at his companions in utmost seriousness.

"It's unbearable to watch."

"No one asked you." Shinobu snapped. Giyuu was quickly forgotten by everyone. Invisibility seeped in his body as he committed 'depression'.

Kyoujurou kept on gushing about the beauty of Muichirou and how great of a mother (Name) is even though she's really not the mother because of how young she is what the fuck is wrong with this.

"Can you shut up, dimwits." Obanai palmed his face at the repetitive exchange while Mitsuri gasped in the background. "Obanai!"

The snake pillar ignored her in favor of correcting what must be corrected. (Even if he felt guilty that he ignored his number one waifu. (Name) being number two, but that because he liked bullying her as Shinobu does with Giyuu.)

"Kyoujurou, that's Muichirou."

The way the flame pillar's reacted was too much - it's as if you told him that his father finally became a good man - it was full of utter disbelief.

"And (Name) can't land a boyfriend much less a child." The (hair color) woman broke down at that statement. Being called out like that broke her nonexistent pride. "Let me dream, you fool."

"Holy kami above." Kyoujurou stared at Muichirou in new light, his eyes basically twinkling. "Is that really you, Muichirou?"

"Yes." The mist pillar replied with a sniffle - blowing his nose at the kimono sleeve of the woman crying on his lap. "Regretfully."

When Kyoujurou did not answer or even reacted - the room fell silent at the sudden shift of atmosphere. Even Sanemi passed out from laughing all of the comedy he just ingested. (Giyuu’s pretty sure he also ingested something else because the wind hashira is foaming on the mouth.)

Their host raised himself up from the tatami mats and stared at his comrade with a serious expression, striking fear in their soul.

Giyuu didn't want to say he didn't warn them but…

"Do me next." Kyoujurou started stripping much to Uzui and (Name)’s delight and everyone else’s horror. (Gyomei is just looking at each direction of the room confused.)

Giyuu did warn the- what. No.

His face paled. What the fuck is that shining between the flame pillar's legs?

part 2 of the bonding trilogy

[ahgaseda]

made of stone || chapter 14

⇥ synopsis : when you return after years apart to pursue a divorce from your husband, Mark, you fall back into a contentious relationship because your partner still refuses to give up his dangerous fighting career...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, descriptions of blood and violence, alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Sweat poured down your face and you suddenly dropped to your hands and knees, dry-heaving as your empty stomach punished you for the stress.

Jinyoung shoved a small bin under you, though he knew you wouldn’t produce anything. Jackson appeared a swift moment later and began dousing your face with cold water from the hose.

“Isn’t this too much too soon?” Bambam questioned worriedly.

Jaebum replied, “Gotta get her into shape.”

“Get up,” Jackson ordered sternly, speaking your name with force.

You shook your head, which only made you more nauseous because your head was pounding.

“This is when it gets hard,” Jinyoung reminded softly. “Push through it and remember why you’re doing this.”

Easy for him to say, you thought, but you knew he meant well and his words lingered.

Jackson turned off the hose and tossed it away, crouching down beside you and waiting patiently.

Your arms were trembling uncontrollably and you knew your body was moving past its threshold and landing somewhere into shock. Digging deep, you got back to your feet and slowly put up your fists.

Jackson mirrored your stance and sidestepped next to you, asking, “You quitting?”

“No,” you answered, voice too meek for his taste.

Jinyoung resumed his position behind the bag, holding it steady as the chains fastening it to the ceiling jingled loudly.

Jackson moved closer and yelled, “You gonna let some bitch put you down?”

Hitting the bag with your fist, you shouted, “No!”

Jackson shrugged, unimpressed. “Then show me something!”

You struck the bag with enough force to send Jinyoung off-balance. He hadn’t expected it.

Jackson smacked your ass and cheered, “There she is!”

Dropping your arms, you glanced toward a stoic Mark seated against the far wall and warned out of the corner of your mouth, “You know my husband is over there, right?”

“Pfft, you one of the boys,” Jackson retorted, sticking out his tongue like a misbehaving child that knew he would fully get away with it. “Don’t even flirt with me.”

You chuckled. The brief levity was sorely needed.

The fight would be in two weeks and it went without saying that you were more than rusty. Firstly, you had never fought in an organized event, legal or illegal. Your training stemmed from self-defense courses, a few jiu jitsu lessons, and scrapping on the street in your adolescent years. Obviously, none of those lended themselves to a career in underground fighting.

Still, you knew you were more than capable of handling the business at hand and no matter what, you had to insert yourself into this world and find the Achilles heel.

Fortunately for you, Jackson was the world’s best personal trainer. He liked to taunt and encourage... very loudly. He knew exactly how to push at your buttons to get the desired result and he was just what you needed with such a short window of preparation.

“I’m trying, Jackson,” you huffed, propping your hands on your thighs and taking a few steadying breaths after another sequence of drills.

Jackson folded his arms and crowded into your space, barking, “You gon’ let some bastard disrespect you?”

That lit a fire under your ass like nothing else. Images of Mark being bum rushed by Jong-Kook’s men made your blood boil. “Never,” you hissed.

Jinyoung braced against the bag as you pounded a combo of hits against the surface with renewed vigor. Each collision rang out in the empty gym.

All the boys were in attendance, of course. They had made comments about getting a workout in, but you knew they were here to watch you and decide if you had a fighting chance in hell.

Jackson was relentless, moving you from station to station as soon as you began to settle. Fortunately for him, you had a lot of trust (and affection) where he was concerned. Or else you probably would have clocked him by now.

Approaching Jaebum, who pulled on mitts over his hands, you took your stance and prepared for Jackson’s new set of demands.

“Start off with three hit combos,” Jackson instructed. “But alternate each time. Right-left-right, then left-right-left.”

You did as told, saying nothing. Jaebum kept the mitts raised, but you knew as you picked up speed he would start lifting and lowering them to sharpen your reflexes.

“Come on,” Jackson urged, snapping his fingers at you, because your strikes were too slow and timid. “Pick it up!”

You were tired and hungry, both of which contributed to you becoming very crabby. Grumbling, you snipped, “I’m hitting them, aren’t I?”

“Damn, where’s the enthusiasm?” Jackson exclaimed, glancing between you and your gloved hands pounding the mitts. “I hope you don’t suck your man’s dick with that energy.”

Yugyeom spat out a mouthful of water, nearly choking as Bambam tumbled off of his stool with laughter.

Even in your irritable, cranky haze, you snickered and just like that, the morale lifted again.

“Give me one more,” Jackson ordered ten minutes later.

Rising from another squat, you whined, “You said one more ten reps ago!”

Jackson replied, “I know you got more in them thighs.”

“I will crush your head like a walnut between these thighs when I’m done,” you threatened, moisture rolling down your neck.

Jackson taunted, “Do I need to get a whistle?”

Still rising and falling with the weighted bar across your shoulders, your leg muscles were screaming and your temper flared. “If you… get a whistle,” you growled between reps. “I will shove it… up your ass.”

Jackson predictably grinned from ear to ear. As long as you had that fire, he knew you weren’t at your limit.

Across the room, Jinyoung tentatively approached Mark, saying, “Should I even bother asking how you’re doing?”

“I’m not the one that has almost passed out three times,” Mark chuffed.

Jinyoung sighed. “Maybe you should go for a walk.”

“Jinyoung…” Mark warned sternly.

“We gotta feed her soon,” Jinyoung added, softening his tone. “Grab us some lunch. Please?”

Mark exhaled heavily, but he couldn’t argue with that. Rising, he nodded and shuffled through the door, making sure it slammed to a close behind him.

“I didn't think I was this out of shape,” you told Jackson, putting your hands on your waist and stretching as your relentless trainer gave you a well-earned, albeit short respite.

Jackson smarted, “Not getting laid for two years will do that.”

“Ha. Ha,” you deadpanned, glaring.

The door slammed closed in Mark’s wake as he left and you lingered your eyes where he had been. Waiting for the sound to stop echoing off of the stone walls, you whispered, “He still won’t speak to me.”

Jackson lifted a brow at your admission, but he was not the least surprised. “Can you blame him?”

Hanging your head, you eventually said, “No.”

“You left him for two years, because he fought. What will you do if he leaves?”

Somber, you blinked at the threat of tears. “At least he will be safe,” you murmured.

Jackson simpered and patted your back in comfort. Blood be damned, Mark was his brother and Jackson would fuck anyone up who dared say otherwise. Which was why he supported you with everything he had and could give. Both of you wanted to protect Mark, including from himself.

“Alright, he’s gone,” Jinyoung announced, having been watching your husband clear the parking lot.

The boys flocked around you and your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Tell them,” Jackson said, arms folding tightly across his chest.

Realizing what he meant, you groaned, “Jacks…”

“They need to know,” Jackson insisted.

A silence fell over the room and dread hung in the air. He wasn’t wrong; the others deserved to know what they were getting into with you.

Wringing your fingers, you said, “I owe Jong-Kook five fights.”

It seemed like a simple statement, but Jackson wouldn’t have gathered everyone together for that. Wary, Jinyoung prompted. “And?”

“I must win the first four.”

“Fuck me,” Jaebum groaned, running a hand down his face and turning away.

“And the fifth?” Jinyoung pressed. You had never seen him so angry, but he couldn’t believe you had done this.

Defeated, your reply was almost inaudible, “You already know.”

“Say it,” Jackson barked.

“I take a dive.”

Jinyoung grit his teeth. “Concussion, fractured skull, brain bleed...”

“You can’t tap out in shit like that,” Jaebum cut to the chase, his lips in a taut line. “They will only settle for a knockout.”

“I am aware of that,” you stated levelly.

Jinyoung insisted, “You can’t do this.”

You planted your feet and asserted, “I have to. Jong-Kook wants to make an example of Mark. And if Mark says anything, he would be talking himself into the Harbor. People don’t give a shit when kids like us go missing. You all know that.”

Silence returned, and it was grim.

“We’ll figure something out,” Jaebum spoke after a pause, somber. “You just focus on not getting hit.”

You nodded, wanting to thank him, but too on the verge of tears to say the words. One by one, the boys dispersed, the laughter and joking having all but vanished.

Only Jackson stayed at your side and once the others were out of earshot, he whispered, “Your biggest fear has always been Mark taking a hit so hard he never gets up, right?”

“Don’t…” you trailed, lips quivering.

Jackson studied you momentarily and let it go. Part of him knew you had something up your sleeve and the other part prayed day and night you would never get that far.

chapter 13 ⇤ chapter 14 ⇥ chapter 15

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[kopfkinoes]

“https://www.marieclaire.co.uk/reports/sex-workers-11125

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2002/apr/08/gender.uk

Some reasons for why I find many men (NOT ALL OF THEM, but many and that’s a fact) to be absolutely repulsive. I don’t even want to discuss the things they’re saying because EVERY SINGLE ONE of them is disgusting. And I get so angry and so sad when I realize this is so normal in the minds of so many, disrespecting your wife/girlfriend and children is seen as no big deal because you’re enjoying yourself and having a bunch of women make orgasm faces at you makes you feel “like a man”. But, some highlights: 

“Of course, my wife doesn’t know about any of this – if she ever found out she would leave me immediately. I couldn’t bear to lose her. Occasionally I have nightmares about my teenage sons discovering what I do, which would probably be worse than my wife finding out. No one in the house would ever speak to me again.” I hope this happens. All dirt sees the light of day sooner or later. If you really “couldn’t bear” to lose her, you’d respect. If you have nightmares about your sons rejecting you, you’d respect them. They would never speak to you again and they’d be right to do so. 

“ Firstly, it’s much more exciting and imaginative with you. My wife would never dream of asking me what I like. She sometimes behaves as if she’s doing me a favour by having sex with me. But I do love her, and don’t blame her for saying she feels tired all the time. I know she works hard too, and she hardly ever asks me for help with the shopping or cleaning.” It is “exciting and imaginative” only if the wife asks him what he wants. Did he ever ask her what she would like? Did he ever consider he might not bring his wife any pleasure at all? Your wife shouldn’t have to ask you for help around the house for you to help her, bitch. She’s your wife, they’re your children, it is also your house. How come it doesn’t even occur to you to help her ever? Oh yeah, because after work at the office and sex with a hooker you’re too pleasantly satisfied to think about work or your wife. 

“I don’t have to tell my friends what I’m up to, although we’d all cover up for one another if it came to it.”

“And I don’t feel guilty, because it’s not the same relationship as the one I have with my wife. I know it’s crazy, but in my head I don’t feel as if I’m doing anything wrong.”

“My wife and I have a very good marriage. The problem is, I need more sex than she gives me. I don’t want to have an affair, as that would feel like too much of an emotional betrayal. So coming to you seems like a good compromise – a way of getting what I need without letting my wife down. If I didn’t come to you, I would probably turn to adultery, which would hurt her even more and probably end our marriage. I justify what I do by reminding myself that I work hard all day, so coming to see you is my reward for being a good husband and father the rest of the time.” You’re having sex with a prostitute. That is cheating. That is an affair. Because the prostitute is not your wife. Unbelievable how people twist definitions to fit their world view. 

“I find her attractive and her reactions are good. She satisfies my sexual needs.”

“I think Sandy enjoys the sex we have, because I always treat her well. But even if she wasn't enjoying it, it wouldn't put me off - as long as the reactions were OK, as long as she didn't start eating an apple or reading a book or something. That would be a bit off-putting. Short of that, I'm not bothered.”

“I came to brothels all through my marriage, even when I was having an affair. It wasn't that I wasn't being satisfied - I was - but males have an urge. Every now and then I have a need, a craving, for a different female.”

“Sex doesn't necessarily mean anything to a male. I mean, it might develop into something, but initially it doesn't mean anything other than sheer excitement. But I don't think women understand that.” He describes that men get “cravings” for “another female” then suddenly “sex doesn’t mean anything”...which is it then?

“If I want to have anal intercourse, or something a bit different, I can generally have it here. Seriously, women's bums are cute. I love them, and occasionally I want to screw them. There's nothing wrong with that, except not many girls will let you. They've got hang-ups about it being dirty, which it isn't, or that it might hurt.” I wonder if this guy would take a dick up his ass too. Because, if he wouldn’t, why would he expect it from a woman? Because he believes women are born to take dick, right? Also “I want to screw women’s bums”???? Can you get ever more objectifying? You don’t even say “I want to screw women” it’s “I want to screw bums” (or pussies or mouths or tits, you get the implications of the language). You don’t even associate these body parts to being attached to a person, a human being just like you. 

“That's the thing about paying money: you're the boss. The customer is always right.”

“The other thing about being here is that the sex is better, and that's a fact. It's always better with a whore.”

“I've got a steady girlfriend at the moment, pretty serious. She's Greek, so my parents are happy. We'll probably get married. The only problem is sex. She was a virgin before me and she's a bit nervous about it and won't do a lot of things. But then you'd expect that. I would probably be suspicious if she was too eager or knew too much. It's nice, actually. Deep down, I don't like the idea of being with used goods.” So if she had sex she’d be “used goods” but you’re anally fucking prostitutes and you’re pure as an angel’s tear. How the fuck can you even call a woman “used goods”!!!!!! A woman is not “goods”! WOMEN ARE PEOPLE NOT PRODUCTS NOT PROPERTY NOT THINGS! WOMEN ARE PEOPLE! WOMEN ARE PEOPLE! WOMEN ARE PEOPLE! I suppose this idea is too radical for men who go to prostitutes, women who are presented as products. 

“I don't get embarrassed about coming here. Never have. My mates know about it; they come too. I don't tell my girlfriend because it's different with women. Anyway, it's none of their business. It'll be the same when I'm married.”

“She's nothing like my wife. She's younger and smaller, and she does different things without whingeing. My wife won't do oral sex. She just reckons: "Yuck!" I can see her point there.”

“But now it's getting like the women here think they can order me around, saying they won't do it without a condom. That was the final thing for me. Well, they're not my rules and I'm the only one who can protect me. In the end I found one who will take a little bit more money instead of using a condom. They've all got their price.”

“It might sound crazy, but this is really the only place where I feel I can be a man, the way men are supposed to be, without feeling guilty or that I'm a social misfit.” “I can only feel like a man when I can pressure prostitutes into having unprotected sex with me because being a man is all about being a psychopathic control freak who enjoys seeing women put in an uncomfortable position because I’m a callous bastard who should have been aborted.” A Translation

“As far as sex goes, I don't feel I've ever satisfied a girlfriend of mine, to be honest. I wouldn't know anyway, I really wouldn't. I'm not familiar with biology in any sense. Some of the prostitutes I've been with have enjoyed it, though. I think they have. I hope so. I guess the truth is that women frighten me.”

“I come here about twice a month. It's part of my secret life. I don't actually want it to be so covert; I'd like to be able to tell people. I'm not ashamed of what I do here, but I know that they wouldn't see it as I do. My partner would just freak out. It's funny, because we've had conversations about prostitution in which she has spoken passionately about not judging the women or the men. She lectures in women's studies and I suppose she is philosophically geared to believing the sex industry should be free to operate. When she goes on about it, it's on the tip of my tongue to say: "I'm glad you feel like that, because I see a prostitute regularly." Obviously, I stop myself. I'm aware of the double standards we all live with.” I’m still at a loss for why any woman would support this. It’s evil on all sides and only benefits men. 

Honestly, it is very interesting to read these things because it confirms so much. Men have such extremely fucked up ideas about women. And please, if you, as a man, know men like these but don’t tell them “Buddy, this is kind of a fucked up mentality” or don’t distance yourself from them, you have to right to go babbling “Yeah, but not all men”. No, but a lot of men. And also a lot of men that stay silent and support them. The most interesting thing, to me, is how pervasive this idea of “a woman to take care of my house and my kids and a woman I can fuck whichever way I want” is. This is a very well-known mentality in my culture, which is not Western like that of these men. Some try to excuse themselves with the “A man cannot be with only one woman” but then go on to say they’ve been visiting the same prostitute for years on end. Why? Because it is about ego, not sex. They ALL believe the prostitute is enjoying having sex with them and seeing them. They all believe they’re very attractive and have Sex God skills in sex when it comes to these prostitutes. One of them does say, in passing, that this is “a job for them” but that doesn’t stop him from believing prostitutes enjoy it unanimously but, if they didn’t, it wouldn’t stop their enjoyment of it. Sex with them always feels better because “I paid for it, so I’m the boss” a.k.a. “I can do whatever I want to her for a price and she cannot protest”. That’s why it feels better, because these women cannot say they dislike it and, even if they did, there’s nothing they can do about it. However, these men are jealous types themselves. They talk about “getting their hearts broken” while they were cheating in their relationships themselves, they talk about not wanting to be with “used goods”, they wouldn’t want a girlfriend that’s too experienced but they would cheat on her like crazy and “that’s none of her business and it’ll be like that too when I’m married”. 

The thing is, these men don’t want women. They want women-shaped objects. They genuinely believe women are split into categories, those who have Whore Genetics and become prostitutes and enjoy sex with everybody and those who don’t have Whore Genetics and are fit for becoming girlfriends and wives and mothers. And that’s good, because men can use both these categories of women however they please. Isn’t life wonderful? 

I also cannot believe they actually think their wives/girlfriends don’t know they’re being cheated on. They do know, guy. They do. They just choose not to say anything. 

I like how many of them claim to love their wives and have happy relationships. I wonder what “love” means to them. Because it rings quite hollow to me. What is love worth for you? It seems it’s just some words you say but never act upon. Anybody can say some words, it’s not difficult. We can all say we love somebody but treat them like garbage. That’s not love. Because love is nothing without respect. How do you love your wife and girlfriend if you humiliate her like this? How do you love your children if you humiliate them like this? You don’t. “My relationship to her is different from that I have with my wife” so? It’s different only to you because you like to pretend it is. You treat her like a wife that doesn’t cook, clean or have to take care of children. You have feelings for her, you have sex with her. How is it any different? That you didn’t say marital vows to her? Those are empty. It is your personal loyalty that matters. 

Also gotta love how the prostitutes describe their clients as “ friendly and kind-hearted, some­one who would do anything for anyone” except stop cheating on his wife, I guess. Because he describes visiting the prostitute as an addiction so he wouldn’t stop seeing her for his wife and sons. 

The fact that they act as if the wife needs to “give” them more sex, but then get mad when the wife acts “as if she’s doing me a favor.” Men are all romantics at heart, aren’t they? They want women to give them whatever they want despite their discomfort, but act like they’re doing it out of their own accord, like there’s no discomfort at all. 

Also, since when is sex with prostitutes not considered cheating? “Having sex with a prostitute is better because I’m not having an affair, I’m not letting my wife down, there’s nothing emotional involved”. It’s cheating if you have sex with anyone else other than your partner, full stop. I don’t even understand what kind of bullshit that is “it’s not cheating because she’s a hooker”. If she’s not your partner, it’s cheating. Number two, you’ve been visiting this particular prostitute for years. This is now an affair, not an isolated incident. Also, how is there no emotional involvement when you say “ I really care about you and I hope that comes over when we meet. While respecting your right to a private life on the grounds that it’s all part of our business relationship, I genuinely regard you as a really nice person.” That’s emotional attachment right there. And it’s impossible not to get emotionally attached to a woman you’ve been having sex with for years. 

The thing is, if you don’t feel comfortable with telling your family about it, it means you’re cheating and, more than that, it means you KNOW WITHOUT A SHADOW OF DOUBT that it is wrong. You know your wife would feel hurt and betrayed and your children would think you’re disgusting and you claim to love them but you don’t love them more than getting orgasms from prostitutes, than getting your ego boosted by prostitutes (”I feel sexier after having sex with you.”) 

The fact that a woman doesn’t despise prostituted women and yet wouldn’t want to be cheated on with one of them isn’t her being “hypocritical” or “having double standards we all live with”. That’s, yet again, men trying to justify themselves through whatever means available. 

And I have to ask, if studies show that 1 in 20 men go to prostitutes, what are the other 19 doing? If they actually care about “true equality” and “not all men” (as they always claim to do when someone brings up this stuff) where are they? 

I’m so tired and angry and sad and just fed up of seeing women be treated by men like this. You have a wonderful woman next to you, she does everything for you only for you to cheat on her. You don’t deserve her, you don’t deserve your family and I sincerely hope you all get abandoned and are left with the prostitute. Let’s see how much the prostitute cares about you if you don’t pay her, you worthless waste of sperm that should have been aborted. 

Why the fuck is it so hard for men to understand women are people just like them? Although, considering how they treat even those closest to them, it’s hard for me to think of men like these as human beings. 

[surflove808]

RE:  Cockles, Bi!Bros, J2M, J2 over-the-top shipping bullshit.  Please read this.  Here goes....part 2.

UPDATED 10/10/2017 for clarity and stuff.  More examples, less whiskey.  Same potty language. 

I've seen too much bullshit misinformation and conjecture out there and I can't stay silent anymore.  So... here's the promised Part 2 of my ridiculously long rant.  Again, I'm asking that whoever reads this, really reads the whole thing, and if you agree...please reblog.  Because this "issue" affects a lot more people than just these guys.  And I know it's long, but if it starts a discussion on how to treat people better and pave the way for acceptance without fear, as well as for how internet witch hunts are NOT ok, I'm hoping we're ALL for it.

Here we we go!

This statement applies to both the actors in this show, and the characters they portray:  I think we can all agree that these men are otherworldly handsome.  And I think that some of us can agree that reading fan fiction (particularly smut, in my case), is very enjoyable. I love the smut!  I'm not here to disabuse you of the notion that seeing these guys together, apart, with you, with me, with a fucking doughnut...sexually... would be seriously hot.   I'm not here to bash fan fiction.  I'm not here to poop on your fantasies or freedom of speech, either.  But I AM asking for more social responsibility.

I am also here to shut down the mentality that we own these characters and these individuals, and that it's ok to take our fantasies (because that's what they are), and try to force feed them to the general public, and even the actors and their families (some of you no-boundary having, people) as if it's ok for our uninformed opinions about the private lives of these men to be twisted and regurgitated to reflect our own desires for them, especially in a public forum.

I'm here to inject some realism.  Via real experiences.  And actual analysis that's thought-out, and based in objective reality.  If you choose to ignore that, and carry on with your fantasy in a way that's harmful?  I can't stop you.  I'm just here to provide a counterpoint and hope that it takes hold with even 1 person, and maybe that person can tell someone else...and maybe apply reverse osmosis with some of this toxic mentality that it’s “ok if you don’t actually know them”.

*Minor, basic, psychology warning*:  Repressed individuals, for example (by example, I mean this is one instance that I'm using) who are uncomfortable with their own sexuality, and are not yet ready to address/express it, have a tendency to avoid circumstances, conversations and actions that may threaten to shatter a carefully constructed facade.  They will go to great lengths to cover-up or act against any instinct that might "out" them.*  

And by repressed individuals?  That doesn't mean GAY individuals exclusively.  That means ANYONE who feels repressed by the "norms" inflicted by their family, their friends, their classmates, their upbringing, etc. But, I just don't see that with these guys. At all.  They're as comfortable with each other as you'd expect long-time collaborators and friends would be... and that should be awesome.  It should be ok.  But for some fans, it's become their job to attempt to force these actors into roles that they've written FOR them.  And that's fucked up.

What sucks is when, much like their onscreen counterparts, these guys can't express affection, support, physical closeness, have dinner together, laugh at the same dirty jokes, defend each other, etc.... without being put under a frigging microscope and dissected.  It breaks my heart a little bit when I start to see them pulling back and being more inhibited and defensive as a result of this BS.  Being a public figure invites a whole new level of scrutiny, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy...some of the shit I've seen "fans" say about these guys.

And when the occasional rebel of a "fan" ignores the very limited number of things that can't be asked about anymore (**see dickheads**) at conventions, let's be honest - they are, in fact, being dickheads.  They KNOW what they're doing.  This isn't a press conference with Trump.  This is supposed to be a safe place for the actors and fans to interact about the show.  And yet.... when the occasional someone posits the very old and very, definitively answered question about Destiel - and Jensen in particular - shoots it down or tries to avoid it (and only twice that I've seen.  And very politely), suddenly, he's a homophobic asshole.  He's ALSO gay, BTW.  He just doesn't know it yet... (for those of you who take everything literally, that was sarcasm)

I'll tell you what.  He's a helluva lot nicer than I would ever be.  I'd tell the pushy shitheads that insisted on asking the same fucking DELIBERATELY INFLAMMATORY question that had already been answered, to go fuck themselves.  But Jensen hasn't done that.  Because I guess he's just a more patient person than me.  

He has been inhabiting this character for 12 years, and living with himself for much longer.  Despite that, maybe you DO know his character better than him.  Maybe YOU know him better than he knows himself.  Highly unlikely though.

The way I see it, if faced with seeing my life’s work (actor, husband, friend, father) negated and torn apart for the benefit of a few snarky gifsets, and being ambushed by inappropriate questions, after  dedicating so much of my time and energy and love towards it, I’d be pretty fucking bummed.  It'd be incredibly offensive to have someone tell me I wasn't who I said I was or not doing what I said I was doing.  Over and over and over.

 "YOU say Dean's hetero and there's no Destiel.  The writers say it.  But you're WRONG. Because reasons..."  "YOU may THINK you're fooling us with your marriage and kids, but WE know better!"  What.  The.  Fuck.  Is that all about, people??  If you're doing this, approving of this, liking posts about this?  I'm sorry to be the one to tell you... it's not cute.  It's damaging.  it's disrespectful, and you're that asshole.

I hate seeing anyone put in a position that makes them question how to go about policing their own behavior, their own truth and their own perception with regards to their **REAL** interpersonal relationships, based on the very legitimate fear that certain people won't give a second thought to making not only their life, but the lives of their families - a mockery.

For those of you who have had people snickering behind your backs or spreading gossip about you - it wasn't pleasant was it?  In WHAT situation is it ok to take your unproven hypothesis, and use it to shame, "out", poke fun at, fetishize, or attempt to force feed your theories to the world-at-large in public forums about anyone's private lives?  I really want to know. What makes this ok?

EXAMPLE TIME (using a few common examples I've seen time and time again, that people use to justify the shit that comes out of their mouths or fingertips):

1.  The male cast and their butt swatting and dick grabbing pranks that make certain, excitable people jump to conclusions: This may be just my experience, but still:  I'm a woman, and I know that my gay male friends and straight lady friends think it's not only ok, but a hoot to grab each others nethers,  brazenly flirt, and share explicit sexual info like it's NBD, primarily because we are 100% uninterested in each other, physically.  There is no perceived threat, either way, between us friends.  And no fear of rejection.  We don't view each other as potential mates.  Therefore, we're a bit more "free" with each other.

A lot of my straight guy friends that are comfortable in their own masculinity (I hate that I even have to say that), have no hang ups about swatting each other on the butt, grabbing each others dicks, performing "cup checks", etc.  *Also, see football.*  I don't know why this is a thing that they do, and I don't judge them for it.  In my observations, it's just a thing a fair amount of guys do, that they consider to be an "acceptable" display of affection among friends.  They seem to find it amusing, and frankly - it's NONE OF MY BUSINESS.  So, there's that.  Most men, (that I've known, at least), will never not be fascinated with their own junk, not to mention dicks, balls, asses and boobs in general.  I've also seen them be quite tender with, and observant of over one another when a situation arises.  You know?  Like a normal human response to someone they care about who may need some support??

And if a couple of dude friends want to act like they're 5 years old with each other, well into adulthood...I think it's rather charming, and hilarious, if I'm being honest.  I may not date men, but I absolutely adore them!  And I sure as fuck don't want to see the baby steps that they are able to take away from toxic masculinity (to quote a lovely DM I got earlier), turned against them by people who think it's ok to project their own crap on them.

2.  Sharing clothes: Again, just speaking from years of experience, and not claiming to know these guys or their reasons for (what, on 3-4 occasions, being seen with the same shirt?)... It's not just Jensen and Misha that do this, IF in fact, they do it at all.  A lot of us do this.  And if they do?  It's not a big deal, people.

I share clothes with friends for convenience and comedy's sake, quite a bit.  I own a bright orange hoodie that has been borrowed by so many friends that it's got it's own traveling backstory.   I've borrowed pants, shoes, tops, etc. on occasion, based on my immediate needs,  and vice-versa.  Especially when traveling.  Saves hassle and space to share a wardrobe, when possible.  But then, maybe Jared, Jensen and Misha do it because they are clearly boning the shit out of each other in secret.  And they're MEN.  And men can't do that without some deeper meaning ascribed to it, apparently.

**Side note:  2 weeks ago, a guy friend of mine came straight from his construction job to a bbq at my house and asked to take a shower.  But he didn't have any clean clothes of his own to change into.  As a joke - I offered him my frilliest, silkiest top.  And he LOVED it!  Wore it all night and then wore it home. Got it back, freshly laundered last week. His girlfriend (one of my best friends), especially got a kick out of it!  Lots of pics were taken and laughs were had.  But none of us even considered that this was something worth ruminating over.  It was Just. Funny.**  

Good grief...If I were subjected to the same scrutiny that these actors are, based on wardrobe swaps alone, I'd be covertly fucking or wanting to fuck 75% of my friends.  And folks, that's just not accurate.  And no, I'm not fucking the other 25%, we're just not sharing clothes.  :D

3.  Perceived jealousy: Yes, some lovers get jealous.  You know who else does?  Friends, co-workers, siblings... Does the occasional side glance from one of these men merit dissection and exposition?  Do we really have the prescient knowledge that enables us to know what these men are thinking and feeling with every glance, every movement?  I'm only asking because certain individuals seem to think that these miniscule moments are more meaningful when they can be attributed to these guys.  What makes these guys so damn special?  Sorry.... maybe I'm just jealous.  Feel free to speculate.  I really wanna know.

4.  "Longing looks", "sexy eyes", "the romantic gaze":

I'm going to tell you what I see with my own eyes, without the benefit of slowed-down gifs, conjecture, or the Cosmo Guide to Body Language and Crushes....or whatever the hell is informing opinions out there.

I'm going to focus on Jensen here because he seems to be the lynchpin that holds this whole sordid affair together.  In addition to him "eye-fucking/loving" Jared and Misha, have you also noticed the way he "gazes" at and how affectionate he is with Rob, Billy, Jim Beaver, and JDM?  If you have, you may have noticed that he has a very open, expressive face and big, gorgeous eyes.  And he seems, by all accounts, to be a very affectionate dude.  And to his credit,  despite our best efforts to call attention to every single fucking thing he does, he continues to try to be himself.  

And when he's paying attention to someone when they're speaking or performing (which is kind of a normal, respectful thing to do, as opposed to looking in boredom at the ceiling or the floor).... he seems to be 100% in the moment.  Unless he's competing to tell a story.  :D  Again...just using my eyes to observe.

He's especially oooey gooey with Rob.  Why hasn't he been linked with Rob in a torrid, secret affair?  Is Rob too short?  Not cute enough?  I wanna get to the bottom of this.  What?  Is Rob chopped liver or something??

Folks, I do the same thing.  A LOT of people do. Anyone who focuses on whoever is in front of them or next to them, really.  Or am I in the minority, in that I'm capable of holding eye contact with, and paying attention to people that I'm not attracted to when they're speaking?  If so, ya'll are some shallow fuckers.  Wait!!  Have I been eye-fucking people all along??  That would explain a lot, actually.

One buddy of mine in particular, has these big, gorgeous brown eyes and he gets this look when he's listening to people, and he looks like he's in love.  He's not.  IT'S JUST HIS FUCKING FACE.  Poor guy has gotten in some hot water over that with a few hopeful, clueless ladies thinking he was *into it* when he wasn't.

Well, you may say... WHY does Jensen always gaze that way at Jared and Misha??  (First of all - see above), but I have a theory:  Have you ever seen him do panels with anyone else?  Who are the three main characters of this show?  Who does he share all of his public appearances with, when he's not solo?  He spends the lions share of his time working on and promoting Supernatural.  Is Danneel in Supernatural?  No...she's not.  When they DO have precious little private time together, are they sitting in panels and being videotaped before a live studio audience, so that we can analyze their chemistry?  Again...NO.

I don't know what their marriage is like.  I'm gonna do the thing where I take their happiness and love at face value.  Because it's none of my damn business.  I believe what they've said and presented as a couple, because why wouldn't I?  The better question is... why wouldn't you??  What's your motivation?

Misha affection:

Misha is a bad ass.  Misha has been supported and enabled to evolve (again - going off what he's SAID in panels) Misha is not afraid of what people are gonna say about him when he wears a dress, or fakes an orgasm onstage with Jensen, kisses Jensen on the cheek, etc.   And anything that he does to convert prejudice and fear into understanding, is A-OK by me.  You can be masculine, and straight and still be open to exploration, still retain softness, and allow yourself to have your fingernails painted onstage without fear of repercussions from the peanut gallery, if you are allowed to get to that space, without people fucking with you.  I could speculate on how Jensens friendship with someone like Misha might have made it more tolerable for him to handle all the bullshit that comes his way via unfounded speculation about his sexuality, but then, I wouldn't be sticking with simple observations based on what I hear from their mouths and what I see with my eyes.  I know, it can be hard....BUT IT'S POSSIBLE, PEOPLE.

Grooming:

There's a reason why our behavior correlates to the fact that we share 99% of our DNA with chimpanzees (*also, see above for obsessing over our own genitalia*).  I've had frigging strangers reach over and pull lint off of me.  I had a guy on a busy NYC street try to pull a mole off my neck once, because he thought it was a tick.  I don't know what else to say.  From their own mouths, these guys have said it's a learned behavior from over a decade of checking each other before cameras roll.  But if you think it means that they're in love... well.  Ok, I guess.

"Checking in":

Again, I'm assuming and hoping all of us have at least one friend or family member that we're close to and care very much about, especially if they are, or have been, at risk.  If you think that this person is approaching an emotional cliff  (or any other kind of cliff for that matter), would you let them fall off, or would you let them know that you were there?  Via a song, a look, a call, a touch, a word, a pat on the back, etc?  

Or is that just a gay thing?

Conclusion:

These guys don't have to give a shit about the fans, but they go above and beyond.  They're as invested in their characters as we are.  MORE so, and rightly so.  And they're dedicated and invested in their fans in a way that I've never seen before.  And just going off written and verbal accounts that I'm sure you all have been privy to as well, these particular actors go to bat for vulnerable people and at-risk people, both personally, in situations that don't involve PR, as well as outreach through their respective campaigns.  So, I respect them very much as creative entities and as people.  I think most of us do. And I'm fucking going to bat for THEM.   For those who don't, well... here's to hoping that changes.  Or that your focus does. I am guessing the average age (intellectually/emotionally/or physically) of the people who read way too much into every gesture between these actors, and FREAK OUT...is pretty young.  And I'm not saying that's a bad thing (being young, that is), but I AM saying the constant badgering of, and attempted *outing* of anyone is pretty abhorrent behavior, regardless of your maturity level.  

Again, your words matter.  They affect lives.  They affect perception.  These aren't just your private thoughts and fantasies anymore when you're making public statements on a worldwide forum/social network, and taking things way out of context to back up your ill-informed theories about people you don't even know.  And by "affect lives", I mean that these public figures have developed a thick enough skin and enough sense to largely ignore the bullshit, but they are still human beings and deserving of our respect, no?  

And by “affect lives”, I think as a society, we have a responsibility to the young men and women coming up in this world who still see -  via these kinds of posts - that despite years of slow progress, their slightest actions can still be dissected and analyzed and gossiped about, with regards to their sexuality in particular.  I think that people who like to post real accusations about real people, based on their skewed perception of these peoples interactions, in the "interest" of supporting actual LGBTQ people, are causing FAR more harm than good.

It can be destructive.  And it can be limiting to intellectual and emotional growth, at large.  And you're kidding yourselves if you think you're being "cute" and that it's harmless to ship real people to the point of harassment on a public forum.  All you're accomplishing, is showing current and future generations of kids that if they don't stick with your definition of heteronormative behavior, that you'll do the outing for them via social media. I wish certain individuals were a bit more responsible with their online musings when it comes to real people who have real families and real children who will probably stumble upon this content one day... and try to be a bit more empathetic in general.  Get out from in front of your screens and look around you and ask yourself:  How would I feel if someone posted this kind of shit about my sister?  My Mom?  My Dad?  My GF/BF/best friend without their consent??

Or is spreading malicious gossip only ok when you're not directly affected?

I'm just hoping that the people who fuck with these guys wives and make vids and publicly try to sexualize their friendships on Tumblr and elsewhere, are too young to know better.  Here's to hoping they learn better, going forward.

If you are doing this?   It's never too late to learn how to be a better human.  Find a way to indulge your theories without harassing these very decent men, and well... anyone, right??  If these guys DO in fact have any "secrets"?  They're entitled to keep them.  But the likely reality?  They're living their lives truthfully, in the face of the shitty online perpetuation of rumors, and giving us all a lesson in what it means to behave graciously under pressure and move on with kindness, when they could just as easily shut down convention filming as well as fan interaction.  Appreciate that.  And appreciate each others right to live without shame, scrutiny or unfounded speculation.

And if I missed some tags?  Please, let me know.

************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ A brief recap for those who couldn't glean this info from the body of this open letter:

I am not anti-LGBTQ, anti-Cockles, anti-J2M, anti-J2, anti-shippers.

I AM anti-harassment

And I AM anti-slanderous gossip in any form.

*******That being said*******

I am pro SPN actor, pro human, pro fandom, pro positivity

I am also pro education with regards to acceptance and tolerance, and just....basically, leaving people the fuck alone.  Especially when you do not know them.

[sinsiriuslyemo]

All new episode!! Let’s take a little break from Melody’s mayhem, shall we? Things are getting super dicey with that, I’m thinking we go to Baghdad and check in with London! Checkout @missjennifercole for episode 10 tomorrow! Thank you guys so so much for reading, and leaving your feedback!! Please keep sending predictions and comments in! They give us life!!

EPISODE 8

“Copy that tower one,” Amber said into her mic as she cocked her weapon and nodded to Captain Madison.

They’d found a local hideout for opposing forces and planned to infiltrate it and take them out before they grew in numbers. Madison pointed with two fingers, wagging them in which direction she should go before he looked behind her to gesture to the other soldiers where they needed to be.

“Move in!” he said quickly, leading the group into the enemy camp.

The second they moved in, they were under heavy fire. Bullets fly in every direction as Amber and her fellow soldiers fired back. She shot three men before they even got their guns up. There were more than they’d expected, a lot more.

“Take cover!” Madison yelled over the gunfire, taking out two more men as he moved quickly towards a broken down truck for cover. Coming up, he took for four more shots, hitting three men as they ran to a different vantage point. “Woods!! You and McCarthy, snipers! Now! Take em out!” he shouted.

Amber nodded getting to her best vantage point beside McCarthy and shooting out the remaining ten men together.

“Clear!” She shouted from among the gunfire. “Hey, you good?” Amber turned to McCarthy who was still in sniper position, when she moved him, his body collapsed, he’d been shot through the head in the chaos. “Son of a bitch,” she whispered. “Cap! McCarthy’s down!”

“God damn it,” Madison hissed, making his way towards the dead soldier, and taking his dog tags, pocketing them before he motioned for other soldiers to take the body. “Let’s search the area, make sure the perimeter is clear.” He looked back down at McCarthy as two soldiers loaded the barely twenty three year old body onto a gurney and took it back to the Humvee parked three miles from their location. “He was just a kid,” he mumbled softly.

“He saved our asses,” Amber said softly. “Troy,” she cupped his face for a moment, wiping some blood off his cheek. “Look at me,” she waited until the Captain was looking. “This is not on you.”

“I’m the commanding officer, Woods. It is on me,” he replied simply, moving away to help the other soldiers secure the area.

“Good intentions don’t stop bullets, Cap,” she called out softly. “If anything, it speeds them up!” she added, a little louder.   

“Thanks for the pep talk,” he chortled, moving into a tent with maps laid over a table, assault rifles, and journals were scattered through the tent as well. “Let’s take all of this back to camp. We may have just caught a break in some intel.”

Rafael made his way down stairs after the movie, having tucked his sister to sleep in bed. After his talk with his mother, and his long heart to heart with you, he could use a nightcap.

“What can I get you?” the bartender greeted the moment Rafael was in the bar, smiling at him as she made a drink for a man in the corner.

“Uh, scotch please. Neat,” he replied, grabbing some peanuts from the bowl and glancing around at the almost empty bar. There were a couple of guys at a table near by having what appeared to be a heated discussion, and a small group of women in the corner table. Another man on the opposite corner of the bar, and he sighed, eyes going back to the peanuts in his hand as he popped a couple into his mouth.

She nodded and made him the drink, sliding it over and winking at him.

“Here ya go handsome.” She went back to tending bar humming as she made the drinks.

“Thank you,” he replied, offering her a smile in return. “It’s pretty desolate in here tonight,” he mused softly, glancing up at her as he sipped his drink.

“Tell me about it,” she smiled as she wiped down the bar. “I have to do strange things to get tips when it’s this empty.”

She walked over to refill drinks for the gentlemen at one of the tables as she sat on top of it. Sitting a shot glass between her legs, she poured a drink, letting them each take a shot out of her lap. She rolled her eyes at Rafael and smiled just a bit.

He waited until she came back around the bar, and arched his brow, subtly gesturing towards the table with the two men.

“Is that a regular occurrence?” he asked softly.

“Creeps? Of course,” she chuckled softly, hopping back behind the bar and pouring a drink for herself, taking a sip. ��But one must pay the bills somehow.” She slid him another drink and smiled at him. “I’m Roxie.”

“Rafael,” he replied, smiling at her and gesturing to the second drink with his chin. “Thank you…I’m still working on the first one though. You don’t have to get me drunk to get me to tip you well,” he teased.

She chuckled, “Then you would be my first tip in six hours,” she hummed while she started making drinks for the girls on the other side of the bar, carrying them all over as a few of the men in the corner took advantage of her not having free hands and grabbed and smacked at her ass when she walked by.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Rafael said, turning his seat enough to face the men. “That’s incredibly disrespectful of you, don’t you think? I believe you owe the lady an apology.”

“You wanna fucking make me, pretty boy?” One of the bigger men smirked.

“No! No one wants to make anyone do anything!” she snapped seriously as she stepped between the two men. “My boyfriend here is just concerned,” she smiled and the men eyed him angrily but sat back down.

“Sorry mate,” one of the men mumbled, “didn’t know she was yours.”

Roxie gently pushed Rafael back to the seat. “That was very chivalrous but I’m going to be twice as cranky if I have to mop up your dismembered body when they murder you,” she whispered. “Are you nuts? They’re bad news.” She laughed a bit and looked him over, “Wow, you really aren’t from here, what do you American’s say…they’re…gangbangers?”

“I had no intentions of fighting them, but they have no excuse for treating you so disrespectfully. Gangbangers or not, it’s not chivalrous to treat a woman like a lady, it’s just being a good man,” he answered her. “Doesn’t your boss put a stop to it? This is a pretty exclusive hotel, I would imagine he wouldn’t want such men driving away tourists.”

“No one uses this hotel bar much, this place is famous for its history and mystique, no one’s coming here to get sloshed but miscreants. Thank you for trying though,” she smiled and patted his back.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that,” he mumbled softly, taking a big swig from his drink. “I deal with men like that every day, and I don’t let any of them get away with it,” he added.

“And they say Americans have no chivalry,” she smiled and passed a water glass his way. “Pace yourself before I have to start slapping your hands off my bum too.”

“I can assure you, Roxie, no matter how sloppy I get– which by the way I can handle my scotch, I rarely get sloppy– you will never find me smacking your…bum,” he smirked at the last word. “Nevertheless, I appreciate your concern,” he added.

She smiled and went back to work. “Are you traveling alone, love?” she asked casually.

“Um, no actually, my little sister came with me. She’s upstairs asleep, and I wasn’t very tired yet,” he answered, drinking a little more from his scotch.

She nodded, “Time differences can be a bit of a burden,” she nodded at his second drink, “it’s on the house, for helping me.”

“Thank you,” he replied, downing the last of his first drink before pulling the second one closer. “So would your actual boyfriend be upset that these men were being so sleazy with his girlfriend?” he asked, taking a small sip of his fresh drink.

“Happily unattached, this job gives me no health benefits, minimal vacation days, but actors and the very best stay here and I can’t complain when they want to take home a pretty bartender.” She smiled and sipped her own drink.

He chuckled a little, nodding his head.

“Honest, that’s an admirable quality,” he mused, taking another small sip from his scotch.

“If honestly is your only requirement you must meet an awful bunch of slags.”

“I never said it was my only requirement,” he answered softly. “My job is pretty demanding so I don’t meet women too often…and when I do, they haven’t been slags,” he added, smirking a little.

She smirked and pressed her lips together as she walked towards their other side of the bar to clear drinks.

“A handsome man like yourself seems like he should meet a lot of women, do you have a third eye or something? Why are you single?”

“I meet plenty of women, but most of them are victims that I advocate for, so…not exactly appropriate for me to have any interest in them other than to help them tell their stories, and get justice for them,” he answered. “I did have a girlfriend…for three years,” he said. “She was…perfect for me. Smart, charming, funny, sweet…beautiful…and then she left,” he added. “Seems to be a talent of mine…driving women away. I don’t know, some people just aren’t supposed to do the whole marriage, family…thing.”

“Amen to that.” She did the rest of her shot and nodded to him and his scotch. “Scotch and heartbreak go hand and hand, love. Sometimes it just takes time, don’t let people push you into moving too fast,” she smiled and went back to work.

“Excuse me,” a girl said from behind him, she wasn’t older than twenty four, blonde and smiling at him with her big green eyes as she sat down beside him. “Hi there, I love your accent, are you an American?”

“Thank you, and yes, I’m American,” he replied, giving her a polite smile.

“Oh I just love Americans! Can I buy you a drink? Are you from California? Or Texas? Or New York or…where else do American’s live?”

He arched a brow, smirking a little. “Uh, well there are quite a few states, so I would imagine any guess would be a one in fifty chance that you would be right,” he answered. “But I’m from New York,” he added.

“Fifty? You collect fifty states? Sarah! Did you know America has fifty states? They’re a lot larger than I thought!” She smiled at Rafael, “Do you know Barack Obama?”

“Fifty states, and sixteen territories,” he said. “And no, I do not personally know President Obama.”

“Well that’s a shame I assumed all you American’s did.”

“They do,” Roxie spoke up. “The same way all us know each other in London.”

The girl looked over Roxie with a glare, “I don’t know you.”

“Well I know you, or, your mum more specifically. I was shagging her last night, she says hi,” Roxie poured a martini for a couple that just walked in and brought it over.

The girl huffed, arms crossed.

Rafael coughed once, clearing his throat, taking a sip from his drink. Looking over at the girl beside him, he cleared his throat again.

“Do you read Tolstoy?” he asked casually. One thing he’d learned in his college days was whenever he was approached by a ditzy woman that he didn’t necessarily have the patience for, he would start asking her questions about literature. It worked every time.

“It’s a book? I saw the first two movies, but I missed the third one, I love Jessie the best.”

“I wasn’t aware they made a movie about Leo Tolstoy, let alone two movies. Though it doesn’t surprise me, he’s regarded as one of the greatest authors of all time. Was it War and Peace or maybe The Death of Ivan Ilych? That was a particularly sad story, wasn’t it?” he asked, keeping up the facade. “I really love how he described Ivan Ilych as a man who lived a life that was ‘most simple and most ordinary and therefore most terrible.�� It’s a hauntingly beautiful portrayal of man at his most vulnerable.”

“Which one is the one with the little cowboy?”

“That’s Toy Story you ninny,” Roxie rolled her eyes and nodded to the woman’s friends, “Go on back to your friends, the bar counter is for people with IQ’s of 12 and higher.”

The girl glared, “You don’t have to be a cunt about it,” she spat before storming off back to her seat.

Roxie sighed, rubbing her temples and turning to Rafael. “Tolstoy? Really? It’s like you were reading Einstein’s theory of relativity to a ferret.”

He chuckled softly, taking a sip of his scotch. “It’s a theory I developed in college that if you’re approached by a woman that you have absolutely nothing in common with, or a woman who requires you to dumb yourself down, sometimes both, talking to her about literature usually repels her.

“It usually works a lot quicker, but I didn’t expect her to get Toy Story from Leo Tolstoy…come to think of it, that was probably an oversight on my part,” he said, smirking.

“And your tactics offended me. Who speaks of Tolstoy without mentioning Anna Karenina or Hadji Murad?” She refilled his glass and handed him another water while she started to wash dishes.

“Touche,” he mused softly. “I’m probably good after this third one,” he added, taking a small sip. “So which is your favorite?” he asked.

“The Kreutzer Sonata,” she sipped her drink as she quoted, “It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness.”

“We can only know that we know nothing. And that is the highest degree of human wisdom,” he quoted right back, raising his glass.

She raised her glass as well with a smile, toasting with him before going back to rinsing dishes. “Have you been in London long, Rafael?”

“A day,” he answered, sipping his scotch. “My sister’s never been, so I thought I would expose her to a little bit of culture outside of the city,” he added.

She smiled and nodded, “Well you must try out all the local goods, I’m not sure if they’re as orally stimulating, as your American food,” she teased. “All the doughnut hamburgers and hotdogs wrapped in churros.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever tried a doughnut hamburger,” he replied with a smirk. “Are there any places that you recommend?” he asked.

“Yes, take her to buy a dress and then take her to The Five Fields, she’ll feel like the queen,” she smiled softly.

“I’ll have to do that,” he replied, nodding his head, and downing the rest of his drink. “Well, it was nice meeting you and…actually really pleasant speaking with you. I should be heading up to my room, but maybe I’ll see you again,” he added, taking out money for his drink and leaving a generous tip, as he told her he would.

“You don’t need to do that, you’re on vacation,” she handed it back to him.

“I told you I would,” he replied softly.

“Save it and take your sister out,” she smiled. “Just do me a favor and come back and tell me how that dinner went, I’ve been dying to go back but it’s bloody expensive, so I might as well live vicariously through my recommendations,” she teased.

“Well…why don’t you join us, then?” he asked. Did he really just ask that?

She laughed softly and leaned over, kissing his cheek, “You’re cute, even if you don’t think before you speak.” She cleared his empty glasses, rinsing them in soapy water, “I’ll see you again, hopefully, Rafael.”

He blushed and nodded his head, moving as quickly as he could back to the elevator. What the hell was he thinking? And why would he even entertain the thought that she would want to go out with him and his sister, that she wasn’t just being a friendly bartender?

“Celibate. Celibate. Celibate. You’re here for Izzy, not for your penis,” he whispered to himself in the empty elevator, banging his head lightly on the back wall of the lift every time he said the word, ‘celibate.’