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physicalturian · 3 years

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[18+] Deranged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 9

[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga][She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]

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Words : 9441

Warnings : Explicit! / Angst / NSFW / Gaslighting / Alcohol consumption / Recreational Drug Use / Women being hot

- - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 -Part 8

After what had happened at Hanma’s place, I had gone home in a hurry. Thoughts rushed through my head, jostling, each and every one of them had the same topic, the same center of interest, and it was him. That’s all my head was filled with until I got home, how far would I have gone if I hadn’t been interrupted by that call? I had gone far enough to feel shame—no, not shame… That was worse, I didn’t regret doing it at all. His face was too pleasing to see to feel remorse and the feeling of his hands on my skin had been more than welcome. I did not know how to feel upon finding warmth in the arms of the man known as The Reaper, a man that killed for fun with the sole justification being that some of those people were assholes or bitches. He was free, that was true, but did I want to be free in the way he was? Could I not enjoy part of him without tainting myself?

I let out a laugh at the thought when I reached my house and let myself slowly slide against my door, my knees up to my chest. “Who am I kidding? I’m already stained and it’s never leaving, the more I scrub the bigger the stain fucking grows. The more I think of it the more intrusive the thoughts are!” I gripped my hair at the roots tight as I rested my forehead on my arms. He brought the unusual in my life, adrenaline, danger and provocation followed every damn time. He was everything I used to hate, everything I used to avoid in favor of the casual, the safety and what I knew. But he had this thing to him that drew me in, like an addiction, it was vicious and sick.

Yet here I was, thinking of him and wanting him. He’s managed to make me want him.

The worst was that I had felt him do it, it had been a slow build. But I still fell into his trap, his fingers had pulled the strings to make me play right into his game, forbidding me from leaving. I had let him do so. He gave and gave, like a master filling its pet’s bowl. And I would eat all of it in one go, barely taking time to enjoy it, craving anything he’d give me—then he’d be gone for days and I’d be left longing for his presence or at least what it brought. The sample of that crazy life he had dragged me into that made my world seem so silly compared to the one he had been a part of for so long. When he was not there, all I could do was manage, fare. The taste of that old routine I had was bland, but I had to get through because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t see him again, I wouldn't get my fix. The mere thought sucked the energy out of me and forced me to my bed after I had eaten.

I did hear my phone ring when I’d received a message right before going to sleep, but I was too tired to check.

All I could think of was that I’d see him sooner or later, with another errand that would have me stray further from the path I had taken my whole life. The thought itself was not as frightening as it used to be, it was almost an afterthought, one that followed my stupid consideration... If we lived closer to one another, would he visit? Would I see more of him if that were the case? I was an idiot to think that—oh I knew that, of course—but I couldn’t stop thinking of when I’d see him again, when I’d feel him close to me, his breath down my neck and his hands all over my body. I smiled in my exhausted daze.

I’m fucked.

The following morning I checked my phone upon waking up, surprising myself when I saw a text from Hanma; my heart jumped in my chest, making me put my phone down rapidly before even checking the message. How much lower could I get? “Fuck that, not this early in the morning.” I grumbled as I rolled out of bed to freshen up and get dressed. To feel productive, or maybe to busy myself instead of thinking of that sick man, I did the laundry and cleaned around a bit. After all, if my soul was not clean, my house could at least get a semblance of order. Now, there was only so long it could take to clean up a house like mine, I was done a lot faster than I thought I’d be.

So I checked Hanma’s message.

H.: Left this at my place, doll.

It was accompanied by a picture of the undergarment I wore yesterday, the same one I had been more than happy to get rid of in the heat of the moment. The same moment that made me rush out of his place, leaving the forsaken item behind. He was holding it between his thumb and index, barely touching it.

The second picture that followed was that same piece of clothing peeking from his briefcase, with a message that said.

H.: Lucky charm from my girl, can’t leave it behind.

I couldn’t believe he was that vulgar, what if he needed something from his briefcase and someone saw it, what then? I entertained the thought. They would be too embarrassed to say anything, what could they do? Laugh at him? They’d get beaten up, that would be Hanma’s way or shutting them up. And if they joked about it with him, he’d probably chuckle too before getting mad. Or maybe he would brag, maybe he would mention what we had done, who I was, he’d even go as far as to say I’m his, I was sure of it.

It didn’t sound bad.

Me: Those things don’t come cheap, I’ll need it back.

Sure, I could have told him to keep it, to burn it. But it was indeed expensive, and above all, it gave him a reason to swing by.

Me: Clean.

Me: I don’t know where you’re off to, but knowing you it’ll end up bloody.

He was typing already and as a good little idiot, I was looking at the screen the whole time while putting on my coat, I even bumped my elbow against the furniture when sliding my arm in the sleeve. Swearing under my breath when my arm went numb for a moment, I went outside and checked the message.

H.: Missing the magic word there

I rolled my eyes at that, of course he had to be like that.

Me: Please, Shuji.

H.: No blood on it, promised.

H.: You should buy sexy lingerie, if I'm gonna have you strip for me I want you to wear something I like

That was my cue to lock my screen and focus on my day. It was bad enough as it was and knowing myself, I would do something regrettable if I kept texting him, something like checking shops that sold lingerie or things in that area. I found it a lot easier to forget about him when drowning in paperwork and since I did not receive any more messages from him that day, there were no distractions either. Only professional interactions and some planning with Rai; since online shopping made it a bit harder regarding sizes, we were going to go shopping on Halloween and find a proper costume for the party. It was a bit too last minute for my taste, but I was already out of my comfort zone by going on such a casual night out with one of my coworkers, so why not make it worse?

As time went on, however, I did not receive any messages in the evening either.

I didn’t think it out of the ordinary, after all that’s how he did it. Very few messages, too much flirting and inappropriate comments, then he’d come back when he’d need something. It only happened once, yet I felt like it’d become a habit because to him ties were weaknesses, why would he need ties with me? Why would he want any? This game of his, as entertaining as it was for him, might become the end of me. I had come to that realization when after so little time, I checked my phone and saw nothing, once more. My finger hovered over his contact info, I stared at the screen intensely thinking of what bad things could happen from this stupid phone call. He could be busy and wouldn’t pick up, but would he get mad at me or would he tease me about it? Both of them seemed to be making my insides go crazy already��and if he did pick up, he would for sure make fun of me, saying how I was already missing him.

My pride was stronger than that, I decided against calling him. I could live without having any news from him. And who knows, maybe he’ll swing by tomorrow and be a bastard as always, was the most foolish thought I had before going to sleep.

Because I also believed if I had pressed the call button, it wouldn’t have been like that.

Because I didn’t hear from him again for three days after that.

Three whole days of nothing.

It’s like he had disappeared off the face of earth. Or maybe what differed from the first time he had done it was that this time I felt his absence, I was missing him. Some might even compare that feeling to withdrawal, but I was not in such a bad state to be shaking and hurting inside just from not seeing the man. I had expected this of him, I wouldn’t care—no… I shouldn’t care, I was not allowed to care when it was him because he would be doing that without feeling an ounce of remorse. It was his lifestyle, having to lay low after doing the most atrocious things just to avoid getting caught.

But laying low didn’t mean not sending a text. So, even if I shouldn’t have, I cared.

I let out a dry laugh, being mad or frustrated was not an option, he hadn’t signed up to be some emotional support of any kind. He was nothing to me, I was nothing to him. He had forced me into this lifestyle, all I could do was live like nothing had happened until he would waltz right back in. Only, I didn’t think it’d be so fast.

On my way to the mall, I had called Rai to tell her I’d be arriving soon. She’d said she was with her friends already and they’d gone get a smoothie, even sweetly asking if I’d like one. Since it was a situation that required less of a power dynamic, I thought it’d make her more comfortable if I accepted and did just that. Perhaps I also wanted one, it had been a while since I’d gone out for some other reason than dining with clients or higher-ups. I deserved some rest and it’d allow me to forget about Hanma, to focus on tonight’s party.

Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I stepped in front of the automated door which opened with a muffled whoosh. The warm air from the heater hit my face, sending shivers down my spine. The temperature was a lot different from the one inside, forcing me to take my coat and scarf off and drape them on my arm. “All I need to do is find the smoothie shop.” I mumbled as I looked ahead already, hoping there was a map that could help me.

I was thrown off guard when someone forcefully pulled me to the side, covering my mouth in the process to stop me from screaming. My first reaction was to grip their arms and claw at them, trying to turn around to see their face. Yes—those were my first reactions, but my first thought was what scared me the most. In my mind, the adrenaline shot up to the roof and for just a fraction of a second, I wondered if I would have to fight for my life, if I would have to pull out my gun and I found the thought exciting.

My face hit the wall of something metallic, the sliding sound of metal against metal also followed then my gun was pulled from my back. I thought it’d be cocked against my head, but the person with the leather gloves put it against my back before pressing their stomach against it.

The smell of cigarette and strong perfume hit my nose and memory at the same time the familiar voice said, “At this point I could fuck you against the wall, you wouldn’t even bat an eye.” Hanma said as he let go of my mouth, but still kept himself pressed against my back. I struggled against his grip all while saying in a pitiful attempt to justify my weak fighting, “I was waiting for the right opportunity. You had the element of surprise on your side, I had—” “You had a gun, but clearly you’re a bit too slow to use it.” He drawled as he moved his head over my shoulder to look me in the eyes. I met his gaze with an angry look while he smirked mockingly at me. If he was in such a playful mood, I didn’t know where this conversation would lead since clearly he wasn’t here for business, judging by his hands moving to turn me around to face him. “Or maybe you knew it was me and you like it rough?”

I laughed to his face while he used the back of his hand to caress my cheek and get my hair out of the way, but inside I felt warm upon seeing he was alive and well, “Oh absolutely! What I wouldn’t give to have you fuck me against the wall of a—” I looked around to understand where we were, then looked him dead in the eyes. “Photobooth. Most women dream of that.” Oh, the look he gave me made me feel so small in such a good way that I wanted to keep going, but I understood he had a word to say so I stared right back at him, my mouth shut. “See, doll, I think you’ve got a case of…” He trailed off and approached his lips to my ear, “...down bad.” He whispered under his breath before pulling back and smiling down at me with something I hated to admit having missed, arrogance. He knew what he was doing and he was not wrong in his statement, only I was not going to tell him that.

He continued, “Because I don’t remember saying I’d fuck you, but if you asked nicely, I might consider it.” He was dressed in a long coat and the gloves on his hands made him look even scarier, like he wouldn’t leave a trail behind him. He could grab my own gun and kill someone with it—they would think I’d have done it. Without looking away, I took his hand by the tips of his fingers and pulled the glove off; I saw his face light up with something I had never seen before, how thrilling. “It starts with a glove, then you’ll be all over me trying to get me naked. How bad of you, doll.” He said playfully. With his still gloved hand, he grabbed my arm and forced me to sit on the unmoving stool in the middle of the booth. He stood right behind me as he dug in his pockets for some coins to start the machine, not one word uttered between us as he did so. When he was done, he had to lean over a bit so that his head was in the frame, his arms lazily draped over my shoulders and barely wrapped around them too. Looking at his arms, observing what he was doing, I was about to ask something when he forced me to look ahead by gripping my chin with his ungloved hand and with that stupid grin said, “Start, it’s a little souvenir.”

Pressing start, I watched the numbers count down while enjoying his warmth behind me, the familiar feeling of his body against mine and his breathing down my neck. I met his gaze in the reflection but couldn’t bear the silence any longer. He was doing this on purpose and if it was to force me to speak, then he had won. At 3, I asked, “Where were you the last few days?” At 1 he smiled, and at 0 his mouth was right against my ear—click, “What, like you missed me?” My eyes widened, my cheeks warmed up—click, and I tried to push his face away—click, but he forced me to look at him all while smiling in pure pride—click. Maybe I did miss him, but I was not the one to blame, he had been the reason I had turned out like this.

I tried to lean over, wanting to get a taste of those lips that talked bad without ever stopping, the same lips that made want to hate him and fuck him at the same time; he leaned back laughing—click.

Hurt was written all over my face only to be replaced by pure shock when I thought he’d lean in to kiss me, but simply ghosted his lips against mine, his expression now serious—click. If not for the light tone he had used, I thought he had been mad. Instead, he pushed his luck and said, “Maybe you should have called, it’d have shown how much you wanted me,” He pulled back and put his glove back on, his smile more than satisfied, then opened the curtains of the booth. “Maybe then I would have given you whatever you wanted.” Hanma glanced to the side where the pictures had been printed and looked at the two strips of 3 pictures each. “Which one do you want? The one with hope or the one where your crush told ya off?” Of course he found it funny, he was making the most of it and was elated to have fucked with me at that very moment.

His eyes were focused on the strips while I got to my feet and walked past him to get my coat that I had dropped on the ground when he had grabbed me. That stress and anticipation that had built up during his absence had only increased during that short moment in the booth, it had been growing and growing and now—now it all fell apart and I couldn’t muster any strength to play his stupid game. “Keep the pictures, bastard,” I started with two big steps his way, stopping right in front of him to grit through my teeth, “I’m sure your sick little mind enjoys it,” I poked his temple angrily, he grabbed my wrist as his smile dropped into a deadly expression and I continued, “Maybe you’ll even jerk off to it!” I said a bit louder with a strong pull to get my wrist out of his hold. I was speaking too fast, I had been humiliated and I was now fuming, composure completely gone. “I have an even better suggestion, Hanma, hear me out—you leave for 1 week this time, yeah?” I should calm down, I was making a mistake, at any moment he could punch me to take my attitude down an inch. He wasn’t doing it now, so I took it as permission to go on.

“Then you fuck someone else right in front of me. See what I’ll do, huh? You like tests, see what I’ll fucking do then!!” I needed to lower my tone, I was getting too fired up, I was about to say something I’d regret. But this fire inside my chest had been lit so easily, he had been fueling me up, or maybe simply pouring it on me over time and I let him, only to have him look me dead in the eyes and throw a match—just to see what it’d do. Now I was on fire, I was burning, but not with passion—with ire. Had the bastard been doing all of this just to see how long it’d take for me to fall for his words, his actions, his touches?

With a deep breath, I took a step back and clenched my fist at my side while waiting for him to say anything. There was no reason for me to stay, leaving should have been the better option because staying meant he had another opportunity to fuck with my head. He didn’t speak, he only looked down at me in a way that made me believe he was mad, or annoyed at the very least. In a low voice, I said, “Say something, Shuji.” Why was I calling him by his first name? We had taken a few steps back from whatever relationship we had, was I even allowed to call him that? I had fucked up by telling him off, but it had felt so good to let all the frustration out, even at the cost of having him be disappointed in me.

“Now it’s Shuji?” His voice had lost its sparkle, its playfulness. My heart constricted in my chest; I wanted to look away, however I did the opposite and met his gaze. “Why are you still here? If I’m a bastard, you should be,” He made a gesture of shooing me, “Running off, your tail between your legs!” It was so easy for him to tick me off, why wouldn’t he apologize? Why didn’t he just do what he’d usually do and turn it into something dirty, why not tell me when I’m angry it turned him on, why—“Are you waiting for my permission? Have I conditioned you that well?” “I’m not—”

“You don’t fucking speak. I let you bark like a bitch, now you muzzle up,” He brought his hand to my mouth and pressed his finger against my lips, “and show me how good you are.” With that he slid his hand to the back of my head and gripped my nape to tilt it back as he backed me in the corner of the corridor. “Why would I fuck another whore if you’re already that willing? Huh?” He asked mockingly as he lowered his face to my level; when I opened my mouth to speak, he tutted me beratingly. I pressed my hand against his chest to push him, but ended up tightening my fist on the fabric of his coat. “Because even after I humiliated you, I could still fuck you right here and then, you wouldn’t deny me.” I wasn’t thinking anything, I was listening to each of his words, maybe hoping he’d give in to what he denied me in the booth. “So picture this, yeah?” He quirked a brow, waiting for me to nod to show I was listening. I did so and he continued while one of his hands slithered around my waist as the other moved to my cheek.

“A woman gets sucked into a criminal life, gets harassed by a criminal of quite a dubious background—she’s sadly forced to hold a gun, but doesn’t falter when he’s there to guide her,” He paused and smiled sweetly at me, I was hooked on his words but didn’t know where he was going with that. “Are you still listening?” I nodded.

“Good. Now, fast forward in time! She kills for him without him even asking her to do it, can you imagine that?” He asked in fake surprise. “And that’s barely two weeks in!” He said as if it was a twist in the story, as if he was telling it to a child. I hated hearing him talk about it; I had done that, but I had managed to bury it deep in my mind. Thinking about it made me so sick. “I’ll skim over some details, she gets fingered and likes it, even if she plays hard to get; she humps his dick—then she tries to kiss him.” He smiled sadistically and leaned over, his lips brushing over the shell of my ear, “Now you have the full picture. So I’ll ask you one simple question, are you ready?” My jaw was clenched tightly, I never said I wanted to hear him sum us up like that. With the weakest voice, I said, “Go ahead.”

I felt the breath of his chuckle against my skin, then his gloved hand as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, “Who’s the one sick in the head?” I was taken aback and let out a muffled gasp. Hanma smiled at that before leaning back and putting his hand up as if balancing things on each of his sides, “On one hand, the criminal who’s been doing this for as long as he can remember,” His stupid smile widened, he met my eyes and smirked as he said, trying to ridicule me, “On the other, we have the desperate, desperate woman who’s trying to hold onto that little sanity she has left by romanticizing violence?” I was seething hearing him put it like that, because there was no way I’d admit I was not well. He was wrong, I was not like him, I was not planning on becoming like him. And if I needed to become like him to have him, then that was it. I wouldn’t try to have him.

“Fuck, silence is so loud sometimes! I’ll fill it by suggesting one thing, it’s quite easy, even someone as dumb as you could do it,” He was once again right against me, his head leaned over as his nose brushed against mine and a wicked grin was painted across his beautiful features. “Drop the act of being a good girl, and have fun, yeah?” Without missing a beat, I replied, “No, I’m not like you. I have a job, I have a life and—”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and brought his mouth to my ear once more, “Seems like your old life’s what’s holding you back. Let’s get rid of it and set you free, little rat.” I frowned upon hearing his words and pushed him away, making him laugh in the process. He shoved his hands in his pockets and beamed at me before saying, “The rat was dumb enough to get caught in a trap, it might hurt to get you free but it’ll be worth it, don’t you worry. We’re gonna have fun, doll.” With that, he turned around and left the mall without even listening to what I had to say about it. It was ominous and I knew I should fear his promises, his little schemes, he had been a piece of shit and a real bastard.

But it meant he wasn’t leaving me any time soon.

Before I could dawdle on the thought, I heard my name being called and faced the people calling me, seeing Rai and her friends who were waving at me with a smile. “Are you ready? We got you a smoothie!” Rai said excitedly. With a shaky breath, I took a hold of myself and straightened my back. Act as if nothing had happened, she doesn’t need to know anything. I was here to have fun and relax, and that’s what I was going to do.

The first stop was a little restaurant to get a snack before really starting the hunt for a proper costume. Rai took time to introduce her friends, one had long brown hair that faded to blond, her name was Shiho, while the other had a short, ginger cut, Aiko was her name. Another friend of theirs was going to join us at the club, since she already had her costume—she was going as a witch—she thought it better to stay home. Once we were seated, with Shiho next to me and the two other women in front of us, Rai started the conversation off strong by directing a question my way while we were looking at the menu. “Who was that guy with you by the booth? I didn't know you had a boyfriend!” I choked on my saliva all while putting the menu down and smiling in what would be perceived as a coy manner. “He... we aren't dating. He's one of the newest investors of the firm, I simply stumbled upon him and we had a heated debate about some… of his incentives, let's say.” Her face lit up, she understood and sat back on her seat after having leaned over the table on her elbows.

The two other women were pointing at the menu, debating on what to take which prompted Rai to speak again, “Are you sure you’re not into him? He’s tall, very handsome—if you have his number you should invite him to the party! He seemed into you.” She smiled sweetly. The pang in my chest hurt more than I thought it would, with a forced shyness I waved her off. “Business stays business,” more like, I don’t mix crime and normal life. I was being fake when I continued, “The policeman is already coming with a few of his friends, isn’t he? This should be fun.” She started gushing about them and the current investigation. I was glad she had dropped the topic, even if it meant I had to fake interest in a man that clearly stepped over his work boundaries by contacting me for personal purposes. At least he hadn’t texted me in the past few days, maybe he was not that bad for someone part of the juridical system. I wondered while talking with everyone and eating happily if the man was corrupted or if he was good—as good as Man could be, at least.

Huffing to myself, I could hear Hanma’s words echo in the back of my head, everyone has a price—may it be money, power or to get rid of someone, it was never hard to turn someone to the sinful side. And maybe that cop would be funnier if he was corrupted, how boring would it be if he was just kind? I did not know him, but if that was the kind of person he was, I felt this urge to see if he could be mean, instead of being a good lawful puppet. I had to force myself out of my thoughts from how unusual it was of me to think like that. What was wrong with following the rules and helping out?

Thankfully, it was time to leave and start the hunt for the perfect costume. It allowed me to drown my thoughts and focus on having the fun I had been determined to have. Now, at first, all we could see were poorly-made outfits, some were too slutty or too ugly to even be considered to be worn. That was when we decided to put something together, to buy the accessories while the outfit could be something else entirely. Without losing a second, Rai said she wanted to be a vampire, but hot. I laughed at that and looked at the other women around me. Aiko said she would be a maiden that had axe-murdered her husband, a dress, an axe and fake blood seemed easy enough. Shiho went a lot softer than Aiko, “A cat, but like Rai said, make it hot, you know?” She continued on a note that surprised me at first, before having me chuckle, “If I’m going to the club it’s to have fun and I’m surely planning on getting fucked up.” The ginger wrapped an arm around the brunette, “Well said, my friend! That reminds me, we should come prepared.” She then looked at me and raised her chin as she asked me what I wanted to go as. I had to do some quick thinking and after following my earlier train of thoughts, if I was planning on making that cop a bad guy…

“A demon—hot, of course. With the horns, dress, makeup, all black. And I’ll be joining Shiho’s mindset on getting fucked up too.” I said before guiding everyone to the clothing shop nearby, I have a few things I wanna forget just for one night, was left unsaid. If we all had the same vision of being a menace and looking drop dead gorgeous, then it was going to be easy. That is, if we did not take in consideration all the time spent in fitting rooms, of course. I was not going to complain about the time they took in there, asking for opinions or some dresses a size smaller or bigger because I did the same. It felt nice to do something like this for once, I rarely went shopping with how little time I allowed for myself and even when I did, I hardly had anyone with me. A few times I had gone with some family members when it was close to festivities, if not, I’d go alone.

Shiho was a lot less anxious than Rai, I could feel the latter’s stress when she was around me. She would talk a lot faster and try hard to not be too casual, because even if we were out of the professional space in which we’d usually interact, we both were still very aware of the dynamic that remained. Something Shiho didn’t have, it was enjoyable. While the two other women were trying out some outfits, we talked a bit. She already knew a few things about me, like the field I worked in so I asked hers. She worked with datas from labs, related to some biological experiments. I’d admit to not understanding a few things and asking for some clarification. Clearly what she was doing was important and needed to be meticulous; it was stressful, she had said, that’s why she needed this night out. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this job, but they put a lot of pressure on us. I deserve a little reward for surviving this far, you know?” Laughing at that, I agreed, “I can’t say I share the pressure you feel, I’m only doing some corporate stuff.”

She fully turned around and with a deadpan expression said, “Easy stuff, you should print more money and then no more problem, no?” I rolled my eyes with a smile and was about to start explaining to her why we couldn’t, but quickly saw she was messing with me by the mischievous smile on her lips, so I pushed her shoulder. “Scientists should just say they found a cure for X disease, that makes it work, yeah?” She clapped her hands in front of her, almost making the dresses on her lap fall by doing so, “Exactly! That’s how science works! God, we’re too smart—” Our conversation was interrupted when Rai and Aiko left the fitting booths and stood in front of us with beautiful dresses on themselves, both fitting their forms in the most flattering way. I could see from the smile on their faces they liked it too and were waiting for us to tell them, which we did without missing a beat. Shiho’s compliment was half-complimenting, half-flirting which only made me like her more, she was nice to be around. “If no man approaches you dressed like that, come to me because I’ll be taking these dresses off—” Aiko pushed her face with a loud sigh, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment, “You’re done.”

With a loud laugh, Shiho stood up; it was our turn to try the dresses we picked. I had gone a lot faster, after all Shiho had only two dresses to try and the one I had was just how I liked it, I just needed to make sure it was the right size. It hugged my form how I liked it. I had picked a black dress with a slit on the side that started at my hip all the way down the hem. If I wanted to use my charms to the best of their abilities, I needed to give a glimpse of the assets after all. A shame he won’t be there to see it, I thought without realizing what had just crossed my mind. Looking at myself in the mirror, I turned around to different angles to imagine myself with the heels I had in mind that would go well with it. I checked how easy it was to raise the dress above my waist, to let the sleeves fall from my shoulders and expose my body. I could almost imagine his tattooed hands traveling up my arms to stop at my neck and slowly trail back down to let my sleeves drop from my shoulders.

“Lovergirl, are you done? If you need a helping hand, don’t hesitate!” I heard Shiho say playfully, startling me in the process as I took off the dress and got dressed back in the clothes I had before. There was no explaining my need for this dress to give an easy access to my body, I didn’t want to fuck the cop, so why did I want to make it easier to get fucked in it? Hanma’s bored face flashed in my head, shit I was still expecting him to come. If I wanted him so bad, I could have invited him—for him to refuse and tell me I’m desperate? No, I had more pride than that, I couldn’t linger on this man that clearly had fun hurting me.

I thought this in the hope it’d work, even if I couldn’t ignore this pull in my chest just at the thought of him.

Pulling the curtains open, I smiled softly and lifted the dress. “This one’s perfect, all we need is the accessories and maybe some protection and we’ll be set for tonight.” They hollered happily as we made our way to the next shop, it did have most of what we needed. For my part, I bought simple black gloves that went up to my elbow and horns on a headband. I already owned a purse that was big enough for any necessities I might need out there and Rai happily suggested to get dressed at her place. So, with a detour by my place to get the purse, we got to her place after getting all that we needed from the mall.

Her apartment wasn’t too far from the firm, which explained how she always got there on time. The inside of it was a real mess. Just like the girl’s energy. “Should we get some drinks before getting there? We should all do three shots once we got dressed, at least! For nerves, courage and luck!” Aiko said. Her energy was matched by Shiho who pulled her dress from the bag and started getting ready as they spoke. I joined them and put on the dress before wrapping a towel around my neck to not dirty it when putting on the makeup. The chatter around us felt like the one there would be in the girls’ changing room in highschool, it felt like a throwback in a good way to have other people around me. Even if I had met these people recently, it was comforting to hang out with normal people without stressing over anything but the time left before we’d have to leave. Shiho had opened a wine bottle while we talked and poured all of us a drink that I couldn’t drink at the moment with Rai’s hands on my face, her mouth half-open from how focused she was on painting my face. “No, because, when I say I wanna get wasted I mean—the first guy that looks hot enough or crazy enough, I’ll go for him!” Shiho said while painting her nails.

“They say the crazier the man, the crazier the sex, right?” She continued. Chuckling, I tried to look at her in the reflection of the mirror, only to have Rai force me to look back at her with a fake-annoyance. “I think you’re the only one who says that, I’m rooting for you though. As long as you’re careful.” I replied, raising my fist in a combative manner to show her my support. She laughed loudly, perhaps already a bit tipsy but not drunk. “Danger’s what makes it hot, why would I wanna be careful?” Aiko pitched in while doing her hair, “Maybe it’s a dangerous sicko? If I’m flirting with a girl and she’s being super possessive right off the bat, I’m running, girl.” For some reason I was invested in their discussion, but did not participate in it, because right now I was on Shiho’s side of liking the danger, even if I used to hate it. “I mean, wouldn’t you play along just for one night? See where it goes? If she’s hot, you know?” I had played along for a lot more than one night, even before finding him any sort of charming, before thinking him attractive and that had fucked me over, I thought dryly.

“I don’t know? Maybe, but she has to be really hot though…” She pondered for a moment then changed her mind, “Nah, I’d be down bad too quick. If she’s manipulative and I stay too long I might stay—if she’s into me enough to want to keep me at all costs, you know…” She waved her hands in front of herself once again, her head following. “Nope, I’ll find a pretty girl that’s nice, you take the toxic people, Shiho.” The ginger said with a laugh that the brunette mirrored without hesitating. She was putting on her heels and once she was done, she downed her drink. “Gladly, as long as it’s fun, I’ll endure anyone’s personality for one night.”

Rai took it as her turn to speak, “I thought you’d be interested in the cute policeman? Shusuke’s friends are probably a lot like him, he seemed kind.” She said softly, earning herself a dead silence. Her face heated up quickly when we all started chuckling, Aiko laughing louder than us, quickly turning into a fit of giggles she couldn’t stop. I was the only one focused enough to formulate a proper sentence, “Maybe if it had been a sort of double date or something, sure. But I think tonight isn’t the night to find someone you want your parents to meet, it’s more of a… letting out your inner demons—” Shiho popped over my shoulder and grinned, “Be horny and free, if you will!” Rai rolled her eyes and smiled without fighting us on it. Clearly we had a different mindset on what would happen tonight, but she’d do her thing, flirt sweetly with one of the men who’d meet us there while we’d try to find someone fun. At least, that’s what they’d do, I had something else in mind, something that hadn’t left my stupid head ever since I first thought of it.

That very much stayed at the forefront of my brain as we walked to the entrance of the club that was decorated with pumpkins, candles and fake spiderwebs. Even if it was not the smartest thing and I was probably doing exactly what he wanted me to do by going out tonight, he wasn’t here. So I’ll do exactly as he said, I’ll drop the act of being a good girl and do my best to corrupt that kind-looking cop that was already seated at the bar with his friends.

When he saw us arrive, he nudged his friends and stood up from his stool to greet us with a huge grin. I looked around on our way to them, the bar was right in the middle of the big room, the ceiling was pretty high up with lamps hanging from it and lighting up the room dimly. To the left were a few couches in a U-shape with people cozily seated in them, some making out, others chatting while their drink was on the low table in front of them. In the couch in the furthest corner of the room were some people that seemed like they were having a different kind of fun, judging by the powder on the table. I met the eyes of one of the girls that was slumped on the couch and quickly looked straight ahead where my friends had started talking with everyone. On the right was a little floor with tables and chairs for people less into dancing and drinking and more into casual discussion, along with a pool table right in the middle of it.

If I followed the signs on the wall, the safety exit and the toilets were both on the other side of the bar, which could be useful for later—“Here, I got you a drink.” Officer Hansuke thrusted a glass in my hand, a huge smile on his lips as he did so. I was a bit unsure and discreetly looked at it, taking a sniff for anything weird as I brought it to my lips before pulling it away, “You know what? Chug it! We’ve already had a few drinks, you should catch up first.” I said in a playful way. I wasn’t interested in him in any way, but I hadn’t seen the bartender make the drink and even if I didn’t know the man in front of me, I’m sure he did not keep his eyes on the drink the entire time he had it. Who knows, maybe he had even drugged it, but that was too early to tell.

Without even considering I was lying or avoiding his drink, he laughed and chugged the cocktail, “Fair enough!” Shusuke put the glass back on the counter and said something to everyone before coming back to me and leaning over to find a reason to place his hand on my shoulder as he asked me what I wanted to drink. With a forced charming laugh, I placed my hand on his and met his eyes, “Whatever you’re having is fine, I’m not picky.” I was just in the mood to get drunk, but I knew it’d make him like me even more if I liked what he liked. His eyes travelled to my lips then my dress before meeting my eyes again and smiling, “I didn’t know accountants could look like that, I'll get your drink.” He winked. I had to hold back a grimace, if he thought that was a compliment he was dead wrong, but then again I wasn’t expecting anything from the man. Seeing Shiho walk to the dancefloor, I gave her a thumbs up and she brought her drink to her lips with a grin, giving me a thumbs up back. I joined Shusuke at the bar to keep an eye on my drink the entire time and took it from the counter the moment it was done. I held it with my hand above the glass and waited until his drink was done.

When he was ready, he placed a hand on my lower back and said very close to my ear, “We should get a seat,” He nodded towards the couches across the dancefloor where people were making out; I let him guide me, but did not plan on doing that just yet. If at all. I wanted something more entertaining, I wanted to test him. Mimicking him, I placed my hand on his lower back and started off strong, “What, are we about to do cocaine? I’m sure the people over there have some.” I made it so my tone was half-kidding, half-not, he’d go with whichever he was most comfortable with. I continued, “Didn’t think you were the type, officer.” I had no idea what he was disguised as, he was dressed in a white suit but that was it. And it did not suit him at all, perhaps he should have taken the safe option of keeping his officer uniform. “Tonight I’m an Italian mafioso, I’m up for anything.” He chuckled as we sat down far from the other people on the large couch. Giving him a once over, I held back a snicker. Instead, I laughed charmingly while putting my hand on his knee and taking a sip of my drink, “Is that so? Let’s break some rules tonight, then?”

His eyes widened, then his hand was on my thigh, gripping it tight. “No kissing on the first date, is that one of the rules we can break?” He said with his face already close to mine. To ruin his enthusiasm, I brought the glass to my lips and shrugged, “Not very criminal of you to ask.” I said sarcastically. He laughed and placed his arm on the back of the couch, behind my shoulders and started talking about that one guy he had caught a while back. Barely 5 minutes in, I had finished my drink and had to interrupt him to get another. “Do you need anything? I’ll go get another one.” I said, raising my empty glass. He shook his head and when I turned around, his hand slapped my ass. I was quick to give him a glare, he only grinned proudly, “Did you like it?” I had to hold back a cringe. Instead I smiled politely, “Don’t do that again, thank you.” He rolled his eyes and said he understood the message before letting me go to the counter.

He clearly did not seem to have an ounce of fun in him, there was no charisma, he was just… a man with a boring job. Once I was at the bar, I asked for three shots and a cocktail. I was already starting to enjoy the music more and couldn’t care less about the loudness of people around me, but if I was going to have to manage this until the end of the night, I needed to be dead drunk. Downing the shots one after the other, it burnt my throat in that awfully good way that made one feel alive. I thanked the bartender and waited for my cocktail with my arms on the counter. “So you’re here too?” I heard a familiar voice say.

My face was heating up from everything I had drank already, but my body ran cold when I saw who was next to me. “Rindou? Why are you here?” My hand instinctively went to my purse to hold the gun I had in it, he placed his hand on mine and shook his head beratingly, “Don’t be hasty, I’m here to have fun, not for business.” His eyes traveled over my form lazily while he rested his elbow on the wooden counter, his chin held in his palm, “You here with friends?” My eyes flickered to the glass just placed on the counter nehind me and I rapidly grabbed it, covering it with my hand as I stood in front of Rindou. “I am. Is it against the Bonten rules to go out when I’m not a lap dog, or can I have fun?”

He laughed arrogantly while leaning back a bit, a whiskey glass in one hand while his free hand tapped his thigh a few times, “Not sure about it being against the rules, but if you’re a lap dog I’d like to see it.” He said before taking a sip from his glass and looking at me with a smile I was familiar with on someone else. It was exciting, even if it made my blood boil—I needed to stop myself from pouring my drink on him. The drunker I was, the less I could manage my feelings and it could end up bad for me if Bonten was here. “I’ll be leaving, have a good evening.” This time, a voice that ticked me off joined us, it was Shusuke “You were taking long, is he bothering you?” He asked in the most intimidating voice he had as his hand went to the back of his pants, my eyes widening knowing it must be his gun he had brought with.

“He’s a friend, I was simply making conversation while waiting for my drink. No need to be a guard dog.” I said without thinking. Rindou laughed loudly, almost spitting his drink which made Shusuke look at him angrily, as if he was trying to start a fight for no reason. The purple-haired man got off the stool and placed his glass down to stand in front of the police officer. “Heard the woman, she doesn’t need a guard dog.” I didn’t need this, if those men wanted to fight they could do just that, but I couldn’t care less. With one step back, I walked around them and waved off Shusuke, “Come back when you’re done proving whatever, yeah?” The officer mumbled something to the criminal then rushed after me. I was trying to find Shiho to dance with her, but couldn’t see her anywhere. When I glanced around the room, my heart stopped at the sight of her sitting on the couch the furthest in the corner of the room. She was sitting with a familiar face, a man with pink hair that was exactly what she wanted tonight. Sanzu had an arm around her shoulder and tilted her head back while whispering to her as he placed a pill on her tongue before kissing her.

When I was about to walk her way to stop that motherfucker from getting her, an arm wrapped around my arm and pulled me towards the source. “Thought you wanted a bad guy, now you’re leaving me?” He said with a chuckle that clearly was forced, he was annoyed. His arm wrapped around my waist, I placed my hand on his chest to stop me from getting too close and shook my head, “Initiating a fight for no reason is not being a bad guy, it’s just being bad at decisions. Make sure to differentiate the two—” He cut me off by kissing me forcefully, his hands moving to my ass as he tried to deepen the kiss. I was caught off guard and ripped his hands off me before pushing him off with as much force as I could muster. “You’re not a guard dog, you’re a dog in heat.” I spat as I gripped his shirt, I really thought I had the upper hand but he was a cop, he had some training and gripped my hands with as much force to pull me with him to the couch. “Playing hard to get makes it funnier.” When I fell on his lap from his tugging, I held his shoulders tight and leaned over to whisper, “What’s fun is thinking of what I’d do to you if you keep touching me like that.” It was a threat, the more he was being an annoying shit, the more I felt it justified to pull out my gun and shoot him.

After all, Bonten could cover it up, right? One less good cop, we only worked with the corrupted ones and he wasn’t that, he was just trash. I laughed to myself at the thought and gripped his chin roughly, “Do you like games, officer?” When he grabbed my ass again, I slapped him and stood up suddenly, then looked down at him and asked the question again. With a clenched jaw, he stood up and replied, “Depends.”

“We’ll play pool. The winner gets to ask whatever from the loser. Now, it has to be something that’s not too out of their comfort zone. So play your cards right.” I didn’t wait for him to reply and walked ahead of him to get to the pool table where no one was. Rai was at a table with Aiko and some people they had befriended in the little time we were here. I didn’t pay them any mind, right now I wanted to fuck this guy over and get rid of him. If I tried to get out of his sight, he’d find me again and I wouldn’t be able to help Shiho out of Sanzu’s grip. I already had a dare for Shusuke once he lost, something that’d make him either interesting or run away.

I needed to win, or else, how would I dare him to kill someone?

[Part 10]

#hanma x reader #hanma #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x reader #tokyorev anma #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji tokyorev #deranged love #writing #writer #physicalturian #physicalturian AO3 #ao3 writer #fanfiction #fanfic

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donutdrawsthings · 4 years

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NO THIS POST IS NOT A DISCUSSION FORUM. EITHER KEEP SCROLLING OR VIBE WITH THE REST OF US

I thought I had already been clear on what my stance was on the matter, but after today I feel like I need to yell it off the top of my lungs. I SUPPORT ROETVEEG PIET AND BLM. LISTEN TO BLACK VOICES AND ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR WRONGS.

(Information about the Dutch holiday and why it’s racist under the cut! includes extern sources and images!)

Summary

Sinterklaas is a Dutch tradition that starts at the first Saturday after 11 November and ends at 5 December. A figure called Sint Nicholaas comes on a boat from Spain to the Netherlands to celebrate his birthday on the 5th with his little helpers, the Zwarte Pieten. The Zwarte Pieten give candy to the kids and on the 5th kids get a gift from Sinterklaas.

The Racism (Black Pete)

All sounds fairly innocent, until you see what the Zwarte Pieten look like.

These are the traditional Zwarte Pieten (it translates to Black Petes btw). These individuals are usually played by white people and are purposely darkened to black with red lipstick, black curly hair and sometimes golden earrings. I have always been told the dark skin was to represent “soot” from the chimneys, however, up until recent years there was no effort made to actually appear as smeared. In fact, a lot of effort was put into making sure not a single speck of light skin was visible because that could ruin the illusion. (the illusion being, hiding your identity behind blackface.)

These characters are also played to be playful, hyperactive, carefree, happy to do their work and often praise Sinterklaas himself. Which are all traits often depicted alongside the “happy slave” stereotype from way back when and the S*mbo stereotype.

other racist depictions are also on display in stores and houses (often on display near a window for kids to see) in the form of little Black Petes, most of them resembling the G*lliw*g. (first image is a common window prop during Sinterklaas, the second image is the racist G*lliw*g)

This very outdated depiction of black people only really started being questioned in the early 2010′s. However, support for questioning Black Pete only started to become somewhat acceptable around 2016/2017... And even then the public has been largely Pro Black Pete until 2020, after the Black Lives Matter movement also started to become a valid topic of discussion in the Netherlands.

The Transition

Between 2010 and 2020 a lot happened since Black Pete officially got taken into question and talk about whether or not Black Pete should be changed started to become a genuine topic of discussion. When the question first rang, the majority of the Dutch folk were against the change. I was against this change as well. I think I should note that I was around 13 at the time and it is a very common phenomenon for kids to mimic the opinion of their parents and teachers. But this indeed a genuine opinion I had at some point and I acknowledge that with full responsibility.

The main reasons everyone was against this change was because we did not see it as racist and were convinced the “goal” with this movement was to entirely remove Pete from the holiday or remove the holiday as a whole from the list.

I would also like to note that the Dutch folk’s opinion on what is and isn’t racist is very outdated as well. (As I write this now in 2020 it is still not a whole lot better but around the 2010′s it was definitely worse.) As this topic gained attraction, jokes about black men having huge dicks (the m*and*ngo stereotype), “watering the Africans” and much more were made to me and other people regularly enough to be normal or at the very least, were seen as a bit of a cheeky thing to say. And despite being a multicultural country, Asian people were still referred to as “Chinese”, Native Americans as “Indians” and Islamic women as “Penguins” as well.

But back on the topic. As the years went on, more and more protests against Black Pete gained attraction and by now parents started to use these protests as another reason to be against the change because “they are ruining it for the kids” White parents would also start to praise the word of their 1 black colleague/friend for being against the change as well.

When the topic started to become more prominent, people made the attempt to change the Black of a Black Pete to another colour. This created the short lived bizarre creation of Rainbow Pete. (also seen in the picture above)

Rainbow Pete was a very short lived idea and was considered weird by many. However, I personally do believe this was an important step in the transition. Rainbow Pete took the depersonalisation tied to Black Pete and quite literally, showed its true colours. It’s ehhh hard to explain what “A Pete” is in English. But growing up I never considered them as human, nor were they ever explained to me as ACTUALLY being human. They are just described as a Pete, and a Pete is all they are. They aren’t people who can have other jobs in Spain or can travel the world to find something else to do. They are a Pete, and therefore they will always be with Sinterklaas in Spain, making toys for us, giving us candy and then going back to Spain with Sinterklaas again.

And that’s why I think this odd colour change was so important. Because by making them green or blue or pink it properly showed how ALIEN Petes felt. Like a whole other species. It tied a certain uncomfortable environment to the depersonalisation and after it’s short lived appearance, Soot Smudge Pete was a much easier step to make

Soot Smudge Pete, or in Dutch known as Roetveeg Pete, is the most recent and most inclusive variant of the Petes. This Pete only requires a few dark smudges to mimic actual soot and can be played by all races.

in 2018/19 Soot Petes started to become more present in the official parades, which a lot of parents were rather disgusted about. I personally think this is the period in which a lot of people just straight up outed themselves as racist, actively being against “White Pete” and actively longing for the “Real Petes” to return. Even with these Petes slowly becoming more popular, it is still not safe for most people who are against Black Pete to discuss the matter with Pro Black Pete individuals in this time period. Pro Black Pete individuals (often family or coworkers) more often than not become very heated when the topic arises and I cannot say I’ve ever seen the same attitude from people who are against Black Pete.

Present Day

In 2020, thanks to the Black Lives Matter movement, it has become way more socially acceptable to support Soot Smudge Pete. Parents who are still Pro Black Pete are still vocally voicing their disgust every time Soot Petes are present instead of Black Petes and much like what happened to me back then, their opinions also seep through onto their children. With these people still present in Sinterklaas spaces it also sadly occurs they press their believes on Soot Petes by giving them too much soot and still giving them a black, curly wig.

However, with the way things are going right now and the positive, multicultural depiction present in the media, I believe we are finally on our way to a more positive environment for kids of all kinds of backgrounds!

Afterthoughts

This whole post sparked after I dealt with a nasty situation myself while playing a Soot Pete at my old Elementary school. I really wanted to play this role to tie a more positive view on Soot Petes with all the parents creating such a negative environment around the Sinterklaas times and thought I could take matters into my own hands. However, I was Sooted up by a Pro Black Pete mother and thus, nearly got as dark as my brown hair. (besides that I also have gender issues and despite the school knowing I’m called Josh, put me in a dress outfit,, but that’s a more personal issue) I was able to wipe most of it off by the time the kids came in, but not without sharing some discouraging words with my mother, who told me to “just suck it up”.

It’s really important to me for people to know how Bad stuff like that still is in this country and I just... don’t understand why people would still support Black Pete after all this time. These people are either friends, family, or just kind people I know and love who around November open their mouths to say the most vile things and create such a sour situation for everyone involved. And after Black Pete is proven to be racist time and time again, still supporting it... It makes me wonder if this has to do with pride more than anything.

No one wants to be called a racist, but is it really that hard to acknowledge some of the shit you said and did was just plain wrong to the point that you’re taking your opinion to new extremes and decide to die on a sinking ship..?

I’ve said racist things. I have compared the curly black hair of a Black Pete to black classmates. I have compared Black Pete to black classmates. I have joked about them not needing to be face painted to be just like Black Pete. I have made those connections and I’m ashamed I did. But you do what you can to deal with it and become better for those around you. You listen to black voices, support black artists and black businesses and become better as a person. We need to start acknowledging how much our society is actually structured to belittle and undervalue black people and you can’t do that when you’re THAT far up your own ass.

phew... anyways. Black Lives Matter! Don’t use tradition to defend racism! Fijne Pakjesavond!!

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yourheartonfire · 3 years

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Hiii! I was wondering if you could do a story where a villain captured the hero but through the entire process on questioning the villain is amused and nonchalantly drinking tea from a fancy China teacup in his outside gardens while the hero is all battered and bruised and there's alot of tension between the two? No pressure though! I love your stories. Have a lovely day✨

I... wrote this whole f/f thing and only then noticed you said 'his' for the villain. 😕 So I think I'm doing this one twice, but anyway here's go number 1:

"My, my, my," the villain hummed as she put down her tea cup with a little tink and a smile for the battered figure in black dragged before her. It was barely dawn but she looked fresh as deadly nightshade, with a bevy of attendants and assistants who didn't blink an eye as the hero was shoved down to her knees in their midst. "This is the little vigilante who's caused me so much trouble?"

The hero gritted their teeth and said nothing. There was very little else she could do in way of defiance. A different hero, a better hero, would have a quip, or a snide jab, or an actual plan to escape. All the hero had was a splitting headache, bone-deep exhaustion, and fear.

Of course she'd known there was a chance it all might end like this, in failure and pain. But knowing something was very different than living it. And the hero couldn't stop her gaze from darting nervously to the walls of this penthouse terrace garden, the green flowering vines tumbling delicately over the 30 story drop to the streets below. When the hero turned back, the villain's eyes were sharp and bright, and she had no doubt the villain had clocked her reaction.

"Cat got your tongue, dear?" the villain said with a tilt of her head. "I hope my boys didn't do too much damage. Though I have to say, roughed up is a good look on you. Not many ladies can really pull it off. What's your name?"

The hero breathed through their nose - broken? it felt broken - and glared.

The villain shrugged. "I guess she won't talk," she announced to her own paperwork, going back to her stack of paperwork. "Toss her over."

"No!" the hero yelped as the goons lifted her by bound arms as if she weighed nothing at all, dragging her to that 300 foot drop. "No, wait! It's Io! I'm Io."

The villain raised an eyebrow. "Io?" But still, she gave a wave of her hand and the hero was dropped back down onto her own two trembling legs. "Sit her down. The rest of you may go," the villain said.

There was a mass shuffling and exodus as the assistants and guards and household staff gathered their notebooks and trays and laptops and streamed away. Someone shoved the hero into ironwork chair and in a rattle of chain affixed her to the cold, wet metal. In a few seconds the hero and villain were alone.

"There now," the villain said, checking her oversized mobile one last time before tucking it away and turning her full, brilliant attention on the hero. "Just us girls."

The hero blinked. "That's... that's not what this is about, is it? We gonna have some hashtag girlboss bonding time?"

The villain chuckled. "Not exactly. Though I will admit, I was intrigued when my boys first reported getting their asses kicked by a girl. You must be thirsty."

She rose to her feet in a smooth movement, refilling her own teacup from the matching pot on the table. The hero sucked in a breath as she realized the villain's intent but dammit, she was thirsty. No point suffering for pride. So when the villain raised the cup to hero's lips, the hero put their mouth over the pale pink lipstick stains and drank. The villain beamed like a proud mother.

"There's so few women in our line of business, on either side," she murmured, wiping away a few stray drops with her thumb. Her hand was very soft, lingering gently under the hero's chin. "And fewer still without some kind of power to level the playing field a bit. Do you have a power, Io?"

"Just rage and spite," the hero snapped, jerking away.

The villain gave a full throated laugh and, almost as an afterthought, backhanded the hero. Hard. The hero reeled. It wasn't the hardest blow she'd taken in the last 24 hours, but for some reason her head was spinning.

"Not that I don't have mad respect for rage and spite," the villain said cheerily. She grabbed the hero's chin, lifted her face again with considerably less gentleness. "Rage and spite got me here. But let's not forget where you are, Io, and exactly what position you are in. Is that your real name?"

"No," the hero whispered. "I mean..." She swallowed. Her mouth felt even drier and the taste of the tea sat bitterly on the back of her throat. "What- what was in the teapot?"

"Quick on the uptake," the villain crooned. "But not quite quick enough. Tell me, do you hide your identity to protect your loved ones from me?"

"Yes. Shit!" The hero strained with all their might against the ropes pinning their arms back, the chain holding them to the chair. It felt like trying to swim through pudding, like trying to punch cotton candy. "I've changed my mind," she gasped. "I'd like to be thrown off the roof."

The villain watched the hero's futile struggle with a fascinated, hungry smile. "Now, now," she said, stroking her hand across the hero's hair. "You can drop the fighter act, dear. I know what you must be feeling. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. I've put in a lot of effort to run you to ground, and you did so well against such impossible odds. You can let go now. There's no one here but me to see what happens next."

The hero made a choked noise of horror. "What happens next? What do you want from me?"

The villain put down the teacup on the ground, fishing something out of her pocket. Brass knuckles. "Answers, dear," she said, sliding the metal over her fist. "And I'm going to have so much fun getting them out of you."

In the end, the hero told her everything.

#my fiction #heroes and villains #filled prompt #evellas-starlight #my fics #whump #captured #hero x villain #heroine x villain #villains and heroes #100

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n-miri · 3 years

Text

More Tommy-Purpled friendship content!! CW for: brief mentions of corpses and death (via being struck by lightning)

Word count: 1610

On rainy days, Purpled polishes his sword. It’s a good weapon: netherite, with Sharpening V, Unbreaking III— the usual overpowered enchantments. He isn’t complaining though; the stronger he is, the better. He goes through a collection of blades, from the one he knows best to the oldest one he owns, on the verge of being grinded into dust. Wipe, sharpen, steer clear of rust. Keep the blade clean and dry. It’s easy to get lost in the repetitive motions.

Dogchamp lies by his side, close to the fire, hind leg poking at his thigh through the soft material. Their ears perk up, and their tail begins to wag. Back, forth, thumping on the floorboards.

A door slams open, followed by a myriad of curses. It’s the usual rainy day, after all.

“Don’t let my floor get wet,” Purpled says immediately. His voice rebounds within the house, a meagre two rooms decorated with torches. A temporary base, if you will. One that he’s planning to blow up soon.

His UFO was…

It just isn’t the same.

“Fuck you,” the trespasser immediately responds. The house is unbearably empty despite its miniscule nature. “I’ll do whatever I want.”

A beat. He probably found the towel Purpled placed on the counter earlier, specifically for this scenario. Footsteps, sharp against the falling of rain—white hair peeks out from the door. Tommy sneers at the other derisively, before crossing the room in five long steps and dropping down on Purpled’s other side.

This has become a ritual of sorts, with the two blondes (or, in Tommy’s case, ex-blonde) seeking refuge from bad days. Sometimes it’s sunny out, or the middle of the night; most of the time, it’s raining.

The day they met, it was raining too. Wide eyes meet each other in the solace of darkness. The past is unforgivingly cruel, and whispers mockeries into their ears. Tommy looked so small, in the Church Prime’s pew; Purpled was sure he looked equally as haggard, hand clenched around the hilt of his sword.

So, Purpled invited Tommy to his base. It’s warm despite being unfamiliar, and Dogchamp is amicable towards traumatised teenagers who need way more therapy than life is willing to give. They talked a bit about the stupidity of other members. Rarely, there was a glimpse into their lives, what they missed and have lost. Neither of them actively asked and, in a sense, it was comforting.

Then it happens again. And again. Tommy pulls out his sewing kit on the third visit and demands to patch up his hoodie. Purpled teaches Tommy how to shear sheep, wool coming off in lines of blue. Just like this, they help each other. There’s too much left unspoken and no expectations to be had. There is no debt to be repaid, or a favour to be granted, or a profitable exchange.

It’s just that. It’s just them, crossing each other’s path sometimes. Seeing how the other has changed from their previous meeting.

“It’s stupid,” Tommy says suddenly. His shrill voice pierces through the haze of thoughts. Pale eyes flicker around the room, with shadows from corners pulling faces. “This is what you do in your spare time? Fight, prepare to fight, fight some more?” He scoffs, not even sparing Purpled a glance. “Idiot.”

Much to the mercenary’s bemusement, Tommy proceeds to pull a cake out of his inventory. As in, a full-blown, home-baked dessert.

“.... Huh?”

An embarrassed scowl creeps onto his face. “Don’t be like that.” He drops the plate loudly onto the space between the two. “It’s edible, if that’s what you were wondering. I know how to cook shit. Niki…” Tommy’s eyes grow distant, fingers twitching, as if moving to punch the treat into oblivion. “She used to bake. A lot. Back in- y’know, back in L’manberg. I learned a bit from her,” he finishes lamely. All the bravado has left him.

“That’s cool, dude,” Purpled replies. “It looks good.”

“Wh- of course it does! I’m poggers at everything I do. That’s why the women love me.” Carefully, the boy flicks strands of white hair away from his eyes. “I’m astonishingly charming.”

There was a time where Tommy’s hair imitated the sunlight, gold and yellow and bursting with happiness. He smiled more. Laughed more, too. Was more brash and insolent; was so willing to see the good in everyone he met.

Now his hair is completely white. His dull eyes flicker around the room and his hands are always, always trembling. Tommy is different from who he was before.

The Tommy and Purpled of before would never have become friends.

“Hold up, let me cut it.” Saying that, the mercenary raises his newly polished sword. Tommy sputters, holding a hand out to stop him.

“Why can’t you use a knife like a normal person!”

Purpled shrugs. “Technically, a sword is a very big knife. It’s… stabby and shit.”

Exasperated, Tommy gets up from his spot in a tangle of long limbs and half-hearted glares. “I’m going to slice this cake like a normal person. It deserves to be treated with respect.”

“We’re going to eat it anyway,” Purpled points out.

The other sniffs indignantly, turning heel to find cutleries. Dogchamp lifts their head in his direction, turning to Purpled, then back again. Slowly, the wolf raises from their sitting position and trots out of the room. Traitor.

From the closed window, lightning streaks through the sky, followed closely by a clap of thunder. It’s loud, Purpled winces. He had expected it but- the sound still makes him jumpy. Rainy days in general are terrible.

The patter of rain against the dirt and harsh concrete pulls out a vivid scene from his memory. Soldiers, rising out of graves, burdened by shiftless armour, heaving up weapons twice their arm span. Thunder imitates piercing shrieks, the blast of an explosion. Raindrops sound like corpses hitting the ground.

Everytime it rains, he recalls that scene with bitter reminiscence; greets it like an old friend who came back to haunt him as an afterthought. It’s not the best way to spend his day.

“You know,” Tommy says, having entered the room when he wasn’t aware, “I got struck by lightning once.”

Distantly, Purpled thinks of raindrops rolling through hair and a shock so bright it electrifies the body. The event he construes in his mind, like always, paints his own death in a morbid way. He wonders if he died, would anyone come visit him? Would there even be a grave?

“That sucks,” the blonde replies.

Tommy gives a non-committal hum, shifting the objects in his arms. In one hand the boy carries a kitchen knife and in the other, a blanket. It’s the one with a UFO print on it—too childish for the purple boy’s tastes, yet too precious to be thrown away.

Once again, the two -three, counting Dogchamp- are back in their original positions. The blanket is draped over Purpled’s lap and he watches, warily, as Tommy’s shaking hands raise the knife. At this point, Purpled would have offered to do it. He nearly does, too, but-

Ten minutes have passed. Eyebrows scrunched, a bead of sweat against his forehead, Tommy tries to steady his grip and cut the cake in equal slices. It doesn’t work. It’s uneven at best, falling apart at worst, but-

None of that matters. He did it.

A ‘good job’ or ‘gg’ sticks on Purpled’s tongue, sincere yet worried of coming off as patronising. Instead, he gives a silent thumbs-up and hopes that conveys all the things he wishes he could say.

Tommy grins. “Eat up before it gets cold, purple boy.” Neither of them mention that it’s definitely not warm anymore, with how long it’s been and how cold the weather is. Obediently, the teenager picks up the tiniest chunk of cake and pops it into his mouth.

Sweet is the first thing that touches his tongue. Honestly, it shouldn’t come as a surprise— Tommy started over-seasoning his food after the prison visit, the same time he came back with a head full of white hair. That, paired with the fact Awesamdude said he had died, creates a sinking feeling in Purpled’s guts. It doesn’t take an idiot to connect the dots.

“Yummy,” he comments. “Delicious. Uhh, what other synonyms are there? Delectable, tasteful-” A choking laugh cuts him off, too loud and too worryingly breathless all at once. “I’ll give this a… hm. Maybe an eight out of ten.”

“I should have gotten full marks,” Tommy says sarcastically. “Glad you like it, though.” Underneath the amusement is the barest form of sincerity, and that’s enough for the both of them.

“Uh-huh! I do.”

Once the rain lets up, the two will part again. Purpled will wash sugar off his fingers, keep the polishing kit in a chest and carry on with his life. That’s how this has always been.

But for now, light from the fireplace casts a glow across their faces, painting a sunset upon Tommy’s self. It’s reminiscent of older days, better days; ones that have long since passed. They’ll never get any of it back—family, homes, the people they once were. All they can do is yearn for what has been lost and move on.

So for now, Purpled stops focusing on the what-ifs and could-have-beens. For now, he relishes in the warmth in his sides as he laughs himself silly. Dogchamp dozes off contentedly. A blanket is shared, covering his and Tommy’s laps, barely offering heat. The half-eaten cake lies between them and his friend is threatening to smash it into his face.

Outside, rain drums against the earth. Neither of them pay it mind.

#minecraft #dreamsmp #tommyinnit #purpled #dogchamp #purpled-centric #back at it again with boys being boys #tired writer moment #marie antoinette! tommy

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gojos-sidepiece-69 · 4 years

Text

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 2

Your eyes snapped open and you met eyes with your lover from last night. Fuck. Did that actually happen? It shouldn’t have. Damn it. No, god, no. I got drunk and had an insane fever dream, that’s it. Your brain worked in overdrive trying to rationalize your decisions from last night. Intense waves of shame and guilt washed over you when you realized that you were, indeed, practically sober.

You woke up with no headache. Your hips, however, were a different story altogether. “Morning, sunshine,” your dimpled teacher said intoxicatingly. It was too early for his bullshit. “Please, Gojo. Not now. I’m going to go home and pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Great.” His grin widened as he pointed out, “Oh, so we’re on name-to-name basis now? I thought I was still your Sensei.”

You ignored him and firmly got up only to catch a glance of yourself in a full body mirror. You saw purple peeking out at you from under Gojo’s shirt. You pulled it down slightly and felt at your raw, sore love bites. “Sorry about those, I always like it a bit rough,” Gojo explained, still shamelessly man-spreading in his bed. “I could tell,” you deadpanned. You lifted up the hem of your shirt to inspect the degree of damage he had done to your hips, and it was bad. You could barely even walk straight. You were planning on a pleasant walk-of-shame home, but seeing the state of your condition, that was now out of question. As if he read your mind, he said “I’ll give you a ride back.”

You got a sneak peak into the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer’s morning routine, which included putting on his dumb blindfold and dark navy uniform. He handed you your clothes from the previous night, taking extra care to comment about how he was upset he didn’t get to see you in your “cute little lacy bra.” Everyone had left earlier that morning, knowing from previous experience not to wake Gojo in the morning. In addition, they didn’t want to take their chances while their airhead of a teacher took the steering wheel, blasting trap music way too damn early. You, however, had the treat of experiencing this first-hand. “All aboard!” He said childishly as you stepped into his black BMW. He immediately turned the volume of his music all the way up, humming to Pick it Up by Famous Dex.

You closed your eyes, and muttered a silent prayer that you wouldn’t die in a freak accident on the way home. With your luck, Gojo would crash straight through a KFC Drive-Thru and laugh about it.

You were shaken out of this scary afterthought when you realized that Gojo was driving 65 MPH in a 35 zone. “What the hell? Slow down!” You yelled, but your driver only looked at you and laughed. “You didn’t have a problem with me going fast last night.” You gritted your teeth. Of course he was going to make your drive home as sarcastic and filled with as many horrible sex jokes as possible. The worst part was that you, at the back of your mind, were fighting back a small laugh. But you weren’t about to confirm that he was funny. So you slowly exhaled through your nose, until your breath hitched at the back of your throat.

Gojo’s hand had snuck past the gear and onto your knee. Keeping his (inexplicably blindfolded) eyes on the road, it slowly snaked up to your thigh and rested there. He could feel you tense up and smiled to himself. He loved the effect that even just his hands had on women. The sensation gave you flashbacks of the night before. He touched a bruise on your inner thigh that he had licked and sucked so tenderly last night, and you shuddered. He drew small circles, but didn’t go any further.

The tires screeched to a halt right outside Tokyo Tech, and you clambered out of his car as fast as you could. You left in such a rush that you dropped your “cute, lacy bra” on the passenger-side floor. You didn’t even notice. Luckily it was Sunday, and you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing your teacher until tomorrow. “Have a great day!” He yelled after you, and you flipped him off classily without so much as a backwards glance for your superior. As soon as you got to your dorm, you dramatically collapsed onto the mattress.

You were so tired from fooling around the entire day yesterday that you slept through Sunday in its entirety. You arose early Monday morning and groaned when you remembered that it was going to be your first Field Training day. And you were absolutely correct in thinking that you were most definitely not ready.

“Each of you will be assigned a Jujutsu Sorcerer to shadow for your field practice today. Watch how they exorcise curses, take mental notes, and follow each of their directions carefully. Megumi and Nobara, you’ll be going with Nanami. Yuji and Y/n, you’re stuck with me,” Gojo said, keeping eye contact with you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. You thought to yourself, I might as well just start calling it blindfold-contact, if I can’t see his gorgeous eyes. I mean, eyes. Gojo whistled and led you and Yuji back to his black car. Yuji ran like the track-star he was, yelling “SHOTGUN!” so loudly that you didn’t care to argue.

He threw the door open and leaped into the passenger seat, while Gojo took the wheel and you occupied the backseat. Yuji took the liberty of connecting to the aux, this time blasting Tetris by Derek King. Once again, it was way too early in the morning to be listening to songs about ass. But this issue did not seem to exist for the Tokyo Tech’s favorite resident ass men, Yuji and Gojo. Or as you liked to call them, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb-ass.

Not even a comfortable minute into the drive, Yuji energetically bent over and picked up your forgotten bra. “Ooh, looks like Gojo Sensei is getting some! Who’s the unlucky girl?” Yuji joked around. “Oh, Gojo. GOJO,” the pink-haired puppy-boy fake moaned like an animal in pain while poking fun at his teacher. Your sensei, ever the enabler of horrible jokes, chuckled along. He glanced up into the rear view mirror and made eye contact with you, breaking it as soon as he swerved into the wrong lane. “At least tell me what she looked like!” Yuji practically bursted at the seams. Gojo sighed and offered a single comment to his student that was enough to temporarily stave off his curiosity and shut him up. “She had a great ass.”

You heard a genuinely amazed “Wow!” from your fellow first-year as blush once again danced onto your cheeks. You broke the car’s mounting tension by piping up and asking, “So where are we actually going?” Gojo explained that their Field Practice entailed an actual mission to retrieve one of Sukuna’s fingers. What the hell? You thought to yourself. You had barely one day of instruction and you were being thrown into the deep end already? Jesus Christ. But somewhere deep inside your mind, you knew that Gojo cared for his students and would never let any of them get hurt.

Rudely interrupting your thoughts for the millionth time, Gojo interjected, “But we’re stopping by the bakery first. I need my morning fix.” Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food just as you remembered you hadn’t eaten yet today. With one shitty parallel-parking job, you had arrived right outside the Ichiban Pan bakery. The three of you filed into the bakery, the bell on the door ringing as the sweet aromas supplied you with some much-needed serotonin. You walked up to the counter, and immediately noticed how beautiful the cashier was. She had long, dark hair and a figure that anyone would drool over.

To your surprise, she said, “Gojo...back here already? I knew you hadn’t had enough of me yet,” as she eyed him lustfully. “Of course I had to come back for seconds. Your goods were just so...soft and sweet,” he smiled coyly as he leaned onto the counter and shamelessly flirted back. The woman reached over and toyed with Gojo’s blindfold as his smile grew. She said, “So, when are we going to have some more fun?” He answered, “Always so eager, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn soon.” You couldn’t tell if your face was heating up with annoyance at the thought of Gojo delaying the mission to flirt with one of his girls, or at the fact that you felt...jealous. Jealous that you weren’t the only one he had eyes for, and envious that this girl was older and maybe even more attractive than you. She made you feel plain in more ways than one, and your mind started to wander.

Did Gojo touch her like how he touched me? How many girls has he had before? How many is he with right now? Damn it. You shook off the bothersome thought. Maybe it was your innate competitiveness as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but you knew you had to get him back. Fair and square. You told yourself it wasn’t because you wanted more from him, but it was because you wanted to make him feel jealous in the exact same way. Whatever it was, whenever the time would come, you were going to leave him frustrated.

Three delicious dangos and thirty minutes later, you found yourself at the site of the curse: a closed off mall. While you were now right outside of the car, you could feel the cursed energy radiating out from its epicenter. “There’s one unregistered first-grade curse that you need to extract Sukuna’s finger from. And I’m going to osbserve,” Gojo said while he sat on the hood of his car. “You’re going to what? I’ve barely had ANY training,” you sputtered angrily, but Yuji was already pulling your arm and dragging you towards the curse. Well, you thought to yourself. Might as well prove yourself a worthy comrade to Yuji and a promising student for...he didn’t matter right now. The two of you sprinted forward as Gojo lowered a dark veil over the area, blackening the sky.

Yuji shoved the front doors open and leapt inside, and you jumped in after him. The lights were broken and flickering, casting an eerie glow over the abandoned mall. The escalators were still running, but you could hear distant crashing sounds. “This way!” Yuji yelled, as the two of you sprinted up the escalator to the second floor. The crashing increased in volume, and it was clearly coming from a destroyed souvenir shop ahead.

You laid eyes on the grotesque curse, which resembled a deformed, melting, red plastic mannequin that was at least twice your height. Its arms immediately extended and shot out at you, but you dodged out of the way. You hadn’t learned any techniques yet, so it seemed like you and Yuji would be teaming up and harnessing your raw cursed energy to deliver blows to the mannequin. The curse opened its mouth to reveal jagged teeth that caged in one of Sukuna’s fingers. “There it is!” you shouted. But in an instant, both you and Yuji were caught off guard and knocked to your feet by the mannequin’s extended arms.

They grew spikes that jutted out and beat into your sides. You yelped and coughed in pain, starting to see blood pool out from under your uniform. You gritted your teeth and tried your best to deliver blows to sever the curse’s arms, but it was useless. Yuji, too, seemed trapped in between the sharp spikes. After ten minutes of intense stabbing pains and useless struggle against this first-grade curse, Yuji piped up. “I think I’m going to have to let Sukuna take over and destroy this curse.” Your eyes widened. You had only heard stories of the demon king, and they were all horrific. But it was between that and death, and you both made the split-second decision. “Do it,” you nodded.

You watched from your position as Yuji let Sukuna take over his body. Black tattoos etched their way across his toned body, which was exposed to you after he carelessly tore his tightening shirt off. His smile grew wide and you heard a malicious laugh. “Fool,” Sukuna said directly to the curse, before ripping its right arm off with brute force. “You think you’re any match for me?” Before its arm could regenerate, Sukuna tore off its other one and freed you before tossing you aside like a corpse while informing you that you were “in his way.” You hit your head against the front window of the store and groaned. You watched the mannequin open it’s mouth and shoot out it’s razor-sharp dagger teeth at Sukuna, but he just grabbed onto the curse’s head and tore it right off with ease.

He reached two fingers into the curse’s mouth and extracted the finger, examining it with a slight grin before swallowing it. “Feels so good,” he murmured while throwing his head back and laughing loudly. A wave of confusion washed over you. If the job was done, why hadn’t Yuji switched back yet? What was going on? You shivered and backed up slightly as Sukuna turned his head to look down at you.

“You know,” he drew out a breath as he kneeled down and picked up a scrap of cloth from Yuji’s torn shirt. “I haven’t taken over a vessel in ages. And that means I haven’t had a woman in a very,” he stepped closer to you, “Very long time.” You looked up at him from the ground, taking in his mouthwatering physique. This curse made you forget about logic for a minute and revert to primal instinct. The first thought that ran through your brain was running your tongue over his abs. However, a second later, you had an even better idea. Why not let Sukuna have his way with me? That would show Gojo. I want him to hear me moaning while he’s still sitting in his stupid BMW, blood rushing to his dick as he thinks about me getting fucked stupid by the undisputed king of curses. That thought alone was enough to push you to answer, “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“You’re going to do as I say. Let me fuck you until you can’t remember your own first name.” Your heat throbbed at that, and Sukuna wasted no time binding your hands together tightly with the scrap of cloth. This was really happening. You were about to get destroyed by the legendary Sukuna in the shattered storefront of a souvenir shop. In the dark. Without any semblance of a warning, Sukuna ripped your uniform top right off of your body, leaving behind only scraps of fabric. You shivered at the sensation of being exposed to the cold. You looked up at him wearing only your plain black bra and uniform skirt, and his eyelids lowered. “Fucking slut,” he said, as he ripped off your bra with the same fervor. He smiled hungrily as your nipples perked from the chills, and groped at your breasts with both hands.

He admired how they fit perfectly within his calloused hands, and how he could feel your heartbeat rapidly soar. With fear. Humans really are useless creatures, aren’t they? He thought before he demanded, “Open your mouth.” You complied, and he slid two long digits all the way inside. You felt one hit the back of your throat and you moaned onto his fingers as they slid back out. He rubbed his fingers back onto your breasts, coating them with the wetness of your own saliva. You moaned loudly with pleasure, positive that your pathetic Sensei could hear you from outside.

“That’s good.” Sukuna approved of your moaning. The thought of him making you arch your back, screaming and crying for him pushed him on further. His hands aggressively found your skirt, tearing it easier than paper. He looked down at your soaked panties and felt the urge to make you feel small and embarrassed. “You’ve gone and made a mess of yourself. I’ll just have to get rid of them,” you saw Sukuna’s tongue move around in his mouth as he forcefully tugged off your panties. His hunger got the best of him, and he bent down to let his tongue take one long lap along your dripping cunt. “Fuck,” he breathed as you threw your head back, hitting against the wall. “I haven’t tasted a woman in so long,” he said, before bending back down and slipping his tongue into your slit.

His strong arms kept your shaking legs pried wide open for him, sharp nails tightly gripping into your thighs, and you could only groan louder. He continued to drink at your slippery juices until you screamed and came into his mouth. He licked his lips as he pushed your thighs back together and lifted himself up. “I’m not even close to finished with you yet,” he growled, sensing you getting slightly tired.

He lifted you up and threw you onto your stomach. You propped yourself up shakily using your elbows while he pushed your head down with one of his hands. You arched your back for him, granting him an easier entrance. Kneeling behind you, he teased his dripping tip at your folds while squeezing at your ass. The buildup was almost too much for you to take, so you began to whine “Suku-,” but before you could finish, he entered you roughly. Sukuna mercilessly railed into your pussy from behind, one hand simultaneously gripping your hair and pushing your head down, while the other dug crescent-shaped nail marks into your hips.

His pace was so fast that you could only scream and curse and whine his name, but he only laughed and threw his head back. “Sl-slower,” you begged, tears spilling down your face, but Sukuna maintained his speed. Your useless request only prompted him to move his hand from your hair to your throat, gripping you tightly. “Don’t ask me that again,” he growled, still thrusting.

You could feel his thrusts become more loose and sporadic, and finally he pulled out and groaned deeply while spilling his cum all over your thighs. You panted and stood up slowly, but you held back a shocked scream. You watched in horror as Gojo Satoru stood before you, blindfolded eyes trailing over the white, creamy liquid dripping down your thighs. You instinctively covered your breasts and cunt, managing a weak, “how long were you watching?” Gojo took a step forward. “Well, I decide to assess the situation for myself when I heard you screaming for mercy, so I came in at about the time...” he mimed checking a fake watch, “a 1000-year-old curse started pounding you from behind.”

You blushed, heart racing from the exposure and accidental voyeurism. You hadn’t expected him to actually come see you for himself. However, your eyes took a quick trip to see a growing bulge in your Sensei’s pants. You smiled to yourself as you thought, mission accomplished.

🌹

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo sensei #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #jjk smut #anime #chapter 2 #long fic #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna

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la-femme-damnee · 4 years

Text

A Chance Encounter

Pt. 1 of the Under Covers series

Characters: Suho x y/n

Genre: spy au, graphic smut

Rating: Mature (fem oral receiving, cock-riding, ever so slightly femme-dom)

word count: 2.1k words

You had never intended to sleep your way into a job. You had only gone to that bar a week ago to blow off some steam, as having been working at a private security firm for a few years you had a lot of stress to work off, and when you saw that gorgeous man with a mysterious air about him you figured he would be the perfect outlet. Which, of course, he was. Even now, seeing him leaning back in his chair, pulling at his tie while he dealt with some urgent business on the phone, you felt a rush of heat through your body as you thought about the night that wound up changing your life.

***** one week earlier*****

You noticed him immediately from across the bar; he was sitting alone in his booth, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking casually around the bar as he sipped on his drink. It was like he had an invisible spotlight on him, and all the women in the bar were glancing over at him, hoping to catch his eye. You were never one to fight for attention, so you let the other women silently fight over him, and you honestly hadn’t meant to look his way, but luckily you did at just the right moment. He locked eyes with you and raised his eyebrow in a mischievous way, an invitation to come to his table, which you accepted. You made your way over to him, sitting close while still facing him directly.

“What can I buy you to drink?” his smooth voice perfectly matching his appearance.

“The penthouse? Well, aren’t I lucky to have caught your attention when I did”, you laughed.

“Scotch is fine by me”, you responded, grabbing the bottle on his table and the extra glass, pouring yourself a drink. A small grin appeared on his face; he was clearly impressed with your boldness. You maintained eye contact as you took a sip, lightly licking your lips. “I’m y/n” you said, almost as an afterthought. “Who might you be?”

“Does my name really matter? I have a feeling we won’t be doing much talking tonight” he said with a playful tone, which took you aback, but more than being offended you were turned on. After a long week of work you were just looking to have a little fun, and he seemed to be the perfect playmate.

“You might be right. Still, I’ll need some sort of name to scream out, won’t I?” you said back, challenging him.

The mysterious man smiled, “Alright, how about… Jun-myeon? Come on, my car is right outside”, and with that you two got up and made your way to the door, and you could feel daggers in the back of your head as every woman in the bar glared at you with envy, but you were used to it. You always got whatever man you wanted. Jun-myeon led you to his car, a sleek black Audi, and you were impressed but not surprised; clearly this guy had lots of money, you don’t have his kind of powerful aura without it. Almost immediately after the car pulled away from the bar, his hand was on your leg, slowly caressing your inner thigh, and even through all the fabric you felt sparks of arousal. You silently cursed yourself for not changing into something more revealing after work so you could feel his skin on yours, but thankfully before long you pulled into the underground garage of an apartment building. Jun-myeon opened the door for you and placed his hand on your lower back as he guided you to the elevator, where he scanned his card and pressed the button for the penthouse.

“It wasn’t luck, y/n” he responded, suddenly very serious, his gaze intense, “I noticed you the second you walked in the bar. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, I just waited until you noticed me”, and suddenly his mouth was on yours, kissing you deeply and pulling you into him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and returned his kiss, biting his lower lip which elicited a growl of pleasure from him. You continued making out, his lips felt so good on yours. The doors of the elevator dinged open, and he guided you out of the elevator and opened his door without ever breaking contact. Clearly, he had done this before, but you didn’t care, your primal instincts had taken over and all you cared about was getting him inside of you. The two of you stumbled into his apartment and came up for air just long enough for him to get you to his bedroom, and before you knew it Jun-myeon was ripping of your blouse, exposing your lace covered breasts. He let out a low, throaty moan as he ran his hands over your body, and your skin was practically burning with desire form his touch.

“You know I’m gonna have to get you back for that” you said, your breathe ragged, and he flashed a wicked smile at you.

“That’s what I was hoping for” he retorted, and so you pushed him back onto the bed and ripped off his shirt in return, the buttons bouncing along the hardwood floor. You straddled him and undid his belt buckle, unzipping his pants to expose his boxers straining around his bulge. You reached for his cock and began to roughly stroke it through the fabric as you kissed his muscular chest, hearing him fight back moans and felt his hands grip your hair. Unexpectedly he pulled your head back, “not so fast, y/n, I want to last for you”, and he flipped you over so that he was on top. He began to suck on your neck, at a sensitive spot right below your ear, and you felt a gush of wetness in your panties. You were so overcome with pleasure you hadn’t noticed that he had removed his pants and yours, until you felt his hand massaging you core.

“I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours to make me come” you whispered into his ear. He pulled away to look at you, a thrilled expression on his face.

“Yes, Miss y/n”, he said eagerly, and left a trail of kisses down your stomach until he was between your legs. He pulled off your panties and let his fingers gently run through your folds, soaking up some of your wetness before letting his tongue lightly graze along your slit, causing you to shudder. You let out a little whine of pleasure every time he licked your clit, and when he covered it with his lips and began to suck you screamed. You could feel your orgasm coming and you begged for more, so he let his fingers, still wet with your arousal, slide into you. That was all it took before you were shaking, the orgasm overtaking your body. The high began to subside but you still wanted more, so you pushed yourself onto your elbow and grabbed him by the hair this time, pulling him away from you.

“Stand up”, you commanded, and he did without hesitation. “Now take of your underwear. Slowly.” As much as you were aching for him to be inside you, you also wanted to see how obedient he was. He did as he was told, his thumbs sliding into the waistband of his boxers he slowly slid them down his legs. As he did so, you let your eyes roam all over his body, slim but muscular, and began to touch yourself, biting your lip when you saw his hard cock. You looked into his eyes and you could see how hard he was trying to wait for your instructions but also desperately wanting stroke himself. Having this gorgeous man at your mercy had you on the edge, and you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Good boy. Now, lie on the bed”. As soon as he was horizontal you positioned yourself over him, bending down to kiss him deeply as you guided his cock to your entrance. You took him in you all at once, gasping at how good it felt to be full, and began to slowly circle your hips so you could feel every inch of him against your walls.

“Fuck, y/n, you feel so good” he moaned as you rocked against him, and he let his hands roam along your waist, thighs, and stomach. You reached behind you to undo your bra and let it fall to the floor, and the sight of your exposed breasts broke him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t hold back anymore. I need to fuck you”, and with that he grabbed your hips and began thrusting roughly into you. The feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of you, and his fingers digging into your hips felt so good you let him take control. You let out screams of pleasure as you raked your nails down his chest, leaving bright red scratches behind. He let out a deep moan at the pain, and his eyes had gone black, lust completely taking over him.

“Yes, Myeonnie, take me!” you screamed, and at that he pinned your arms behind your back and pulled you onto him, thrusting into you even deeper. With every stroke you could feel him hit your g-spot, which combined with the friction against your clit catapulted you into your second orgasm. The intensity caused your muscles to spasm, and your grip around Jun-myeon’s cock was even tighter. He began to grunt, and you could tell that his release wasn’t far behind. “Come for me, Jun-myeon! I want you to come inside me” you cried and seconds later you felt his cock throbbing as his hot seed poured into you. You lay on-top of him for a few moments, panting as you both came down from your highs. You then carefully slid off him and collapsed beside him, spent and deliriously happy.

You shot up at his response. “Wait…do you mean, the Suho? As in, head of the EXO spy agency, Suho?” You were completely bewildered.

“I’ve waited a long time to find a woman like you, y/n” he said, gently pushing aside a lock of hair from your forehead.

“I had a lot of fun too,” you responded, your fingers gently tracing over the marks you left on him, “but this was just a one-time thing, right? I mean, you didn’t even tell me your real name.”

“Oh, I don’t mean for a girlfriend”, he smiled “and you’re right, I didn’t tell you my real name. I’m Suho.”

Your head was spinning. “Wait, how do you know I work in private security? Have you been stalking me?”

“So you have heard of me, I wasn’t sure if my name had gotten to the private security sector yet”, he said casually. “Well, yes, I am that Suho. How would you like to come work for me?”

“Relax, I haven’t been stalking you!” He laughed, “You still had your work badge on at the bar, didn’t you realize? Well, don’t worry, spies don’t wear name tags. Kinda defeats the whole purpose of you know, being a spy”.

You began to calm down as you took everything in. Everyone in your field, both security and criminals, had heard about the EXO spy agency. They were a group of elite operatives, the go-to agents when you needed something done right without leaving a trace. You had also heard whispers of a charismatic leader Suho, but anybody who had met him was sworn to absolute secrecy and leaking any information about him beyond his name would lead to certain death.

“I don’t understand, why would you want me to work for you”, you asked genuinely.

A giant smile spread across your face. “How soon can I start?”

“When I saw your badge, I immediately recognized the name of your firm. I know that family only hires the best, which means that you have to have intelligence, technical skills, and great fighting technique. They might not be to EXO standard, but I’m confident you can be trained. What’s special about you is that you have something none of my agents have, something that I’ve been needing. When I saw you at the bar, you exuded this raw sexual power, and tonight was proof that you have the ability to get any man under your control. Men will be completely vulnerable to you, and that’s invaluable to me. So, what do you say, do you want to become a member of the EXO spy agency?”

#EXO #exo smut #exo suho #suho smut #kpop #fanfic #kpopfanfic #kpop au #cross posted to ao3

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thatesqcrush · 4 years

Text

After Hours

Bryan Kneef x Reader. NSFW. For holiday bingo: very, very loosely “ugly sweater.” But it’s my bingo, sooo, c’est la vie. Follow-up to “The Trip” and “The Trip, Pt. 2.” Bryan makes good on a promise to reader.

WC: 3010

You were surprised when you and Bryan flew back into Chicago that he did not make immediately good on his promise to fuck you in the office. In fact, it seemed that Bryan was done with you – he was all business in the office, no pleasure. You watched with secret jealousy and longing as he flirted and charmed everyone in the office – with the exception of Diane, of course. You even tried to dress a little nicer in the office, in hopes that he would notice. You tried to even bring up a novice mistake Diane had made in court and it was met with a curt smile and raised brows that screamed ‘are we done here?’

That all changed one late evening in the Firm’s copy center. A partner in your own right, you had your own stockpile of paralegals to call on handle whatever you needed. But it was late – and it was the holidays. Unlike other attorneys, it felt cruel to keep them burning the midnight oil. You had worked for asshole bosses like that when you were a paralegal many moons ago and you always vowed to not do that if you ever became an attorney.

You were fiddling around the printer, nary a soul in sight. The overhead lighting was awfully bright and it was emanating a hum. The monstrous printer was jammed and you could not figure out why it was still jammed even though you had removed the stuck paper. Your heels ached and throbbed from the day and with not even an afterthought, you took them off, leaving your feet bare – but still in stockings.

Your frustration was mounting and you decided to kick the machine, which somehow kickstarted the machine back to life, spitting out an obscene amount of pages as if it were confetti. You hit stop and gathered the paper from the floor. Finding some useable pages, you pumped the air victoriously before going back to your office. You remained sans shoes, enjoying how the floor felt against your feet. You spotted a ‘wet floor’ sign ahead and with a weary sigh, you slipped your heels back on, groaning.

Your heels clacked down the hallway to your office, echoing loudly with each step on the marbled floor. You paused in your step, when you realized despite your dim office and surroundings, that Bryan was in your office. He was leaning against the doorway, waiting with a drink in one hand and a cigar in another.

“Bryan? What are you doing here?” You asked, pushing past him. You stood at your desk, and continued to bind your courtesy copies, so it could be picked up by the messenger in the morning and be hand delivered to court.

Bryan cocked his head and swept his eyes over you, taking in your form. Your shirt was untucked from your pencil skirt, but it was not long enough to hide your form, with shapely and curvy hips and thighs. Bryan had been with his share of women – and men – but there was something about a person with curves that he was always a sucker for. There was something about how a bit softer they were, the way a pair of thicker thighs would feel against his hands as his hips crashed against them – something the way a pair of big tits spilled over his hands as his mouth nipped and sucked on them. He loved watching their tits bounce as they rode him or how his fingers sunk into their luscious hips as he took them from behind.

And ever since you and he fucked at the conference, which basically was almost every night until you both flew home, he could not get you out of his mind. He tried to keep things back to business but even weeks later, there you were still, from work meetings to partner votes.

At one meeting in particular, he sat next to you and he had to will himself to not slip his hand up your dress from under the desk. That then led to the image of you under his desk sucking him off. He ended up having to take matters into his own hands and rub one out that afternoon in his office.

He took notice at how you upped your appearance – skirts that hugged your shapely hips and (in his opinion, ugly) sweaters with a v-neck which showed off the swells of your tits. Your lips were always decorated in some kind of bold color and he could imagine those soft pillowy lips around his cock. The promise in Florida haunted him and he decided to make good on those words.

“I was on a settlement call with Tokyo when I noticed your office lights. I never see you here this late.” Bryan replied, his voice low and gravelly. The smell of the cigar burning – which to you smelled like coffee and surprisingly burnt marshmallow filled the air. The combination of that and his cologne sent your senses into overdrive.

“I am finishing up on some courtesy copies and then heading home.” You replied, continuing to work, avoiding his eyes.

“There’s a hundred paralegals in this place – you should offload that to one of them.” Bryan replied, taking a sip of his drink. He shut the door behind him before sitting down in front of your desk and kicking his legs up.

You shot him a look. “It’s fine – it’s humbling at least. You should always know how to do the mundane tasks – it makes you a better manager when you can relate to your subordinates.”

Bryan rolled his eyes and puffed on his cigar. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Are you here to just antagonize me or…?” You asked, now placing your hands on your hips. You gave him an unyielding glare to which he responded with a dangerous smile. Your glare softened, feeling very much like prey being hunted. You swallowed hard, feeling your stomach knot up.

“What if it’s or?” Bryan asked, his voice laced with lust. He swung his legs off the desk and placed the drink and cigar on your desk before standing and walking over to you. A sound rumbled from his chest and you froze in your spot as he took place behind you.

Your eyes met his. There was palpable tension and you’d wonder who’d crack first. You got your answer quickly as he pressed himself lewdly against your buttocks; you could feel his hard bulge.

Bryan’s large hands gripped the tops of your arms and he nuzzled your neck, his beard tickling your skin and further heightening the feelings of arousal that were beginning to stir. You let out a soft sigh in response, nearly sinking back into him.

“Remember what I said in Florida?” Bryan whispered into your ear. He nipped your ear playfully which caused you to shudder. His mouth found the slope of your neck and he sucked a deep mark on your skin, before using his teeth to nip some more. Your eyes fluttered shut..

“Yes.” You half moaned. You could feel your heartbeat and pulse quicken as Bryan soothed the bruised skin with his warm, wet tongue.

Bryan ran his hands down your arms and then to the curves of your hips trailing down until he got to the hem. Your breathing began to quicken in anticipation of what he’d do next. Bryan let out a growl as he pushed up your skirt and discovered you were wearing stockings with peacock feather lace tops which were held up with blush colored garters. Finishing the look was a matching blush pink thong panty.

“My, my… is this for me?” Bryan murmured against your skin. You slowly turned around and looked down, meeting his eyes, which were blown with lust.

“Yes. It’s all for you.” You admitted, averting your eyes briefly.

Bryan stood and faced you, using his index finger to tilt your face to his. “I fucking knew it.” Bryan whispered. “Your daddy’s little slut Y/N.”

“Yes, daddy.” You replied weakly, dizzy with desire.

Bryan pulled you into a kiss. Your mouths mashed against one another’s, your tongues rolling around and exploring each other’s mouths. You could taste the alcohol and cigar smoke and you moaned as he sucked in your bottom lip. You ran your hands through his thick hair and his hands grabbed at your ass, rolling the fat between his fingers.

“Is this what you want?” Bryan asked as he pressed your body closer to his; you could feel his erection against your stomach.

You ran your hands down to his collar and tugged him down. Bryan followed your lead as you hoisted yourself onto your desk, not caring at all that that objects on your desk fell over to the floor. Bryan made quick work of undoing the buttons of your blouse and spreading it open. His hand ran down your sternum before he reached down to the cups of your bra, your breasts popping out. His mouth immediately latched onto a nipple, rolling his tongue over a hardened bud. He used his free hand to pinch and roll your other nipple. Your head lolled at the sensations, your body was warm with increasing desire. He switched his mouth to your other nipple, sucking and nipping harder than he did to the other one, causing you to whine.

“I need to hear it Y/N. Or this all stops.” Bryan growled against your flesh before using his teeth to graze a nipple.

“Yes.” You finally managed to choke the words to describe your assent. “Fuck me.”

Bryan stood straight, his eyes taking in your appearance. Your hair was fanned out on the desk, your tits exposed, and your skirt pushed up to your waist, legs spread. The garter straps were strained along your skin as the elasticity was pushed to its limits. He undid the hooks and then stretched your legs wider. He felt his some primal urge swell deep inside at the very noticeable wet spot on your panties.

He bent down so that he was on his knees; his breath was warm against your soaking cunt, and you were desperate to relieve the aching in between your legs. He cupped your clothed pussy with his palm. “You’re so wet.” Bryan noted, a pleased lilt in his voice. He slipped a finger in and he let out his own groan of satisfaction at how easily it sunk in. Your cunt gripped his finger tightly and you sighed in relief at the feeling of his finger stroke you.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned, your back arching off the desk at the sensation. Bryan’s tongue lapped one long hard strip from your opening up to your clit, the wet, warm muscle circling your bundle of nerves before his lips closed around it. You groaned, murmuring Bryan’s name with praise. You grabbed at your own flesh, pinching and tugging on your nipples, as you felt your orgasm begin to build.

Now two fingers pressed at your core, slowly sinking inside, curling them and stroking your sweet spot while his thumb rubbed your clit. You couldn’t think straight, all you could focus on was the orgasm that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach and desperate for release. Your chest was heaving, a light sweat breaking out everywhere.

Bryan worked your orgasm alternating with his mouth and fingers. You were on the edge teetering, just about to let go and fall off. He could feel you clenching around his fingers. Bryan’s hot mouth was back to abusing your clit with such vigor.

“Oh god, oh god, I am going to cum!” You sobbed. His fingers curled to your g-spot again, and the feeling was even more intense than usual.

“Come for me like a good girl.” Bryan commanded. Your body obediently obeyed. You wailed his name as you fell apart, this orgasm different from any other you had, practically shooting out. Your pussy clenched over his fingers and a warm, wet liquid emanated from your body.

Bryan groaned, as he buried his face against you before sucking your clit once more, coming off with a wet squelch. You lay there shuddering, completely dazed at what just happened. Bryan pulled you up and kissed you hard. His beard was soaked and you could smell and taste yourself on his beard.

“Never made a woman squirt before. That was fucking hot.” Bryan rumbled, as lecherous grin spread over his bearded mouth.

“Is that what it was?” You asked, reaching up to touch his soaked beard in amazement.

Bryan nodded. “I have watched enough porn to know that was definitely that.” You leaned up to kiss Bryan again. He kissed you softly this time as he undid the buckle of his pants. Bryan’s lips remained on yours as he used his hands to push down his pants and boxers, releasing his hard cock. You moved to bend and return the favor, but Bryan shook his head. He waved his index finger around. “On your back, facing me.”

You gave him a curious look but did as told. Your head was to the edge of the desk and watched near upside down as Bryan pumped his cock. The air was erotically charged; seeing his hard cock – knowing you were the reason it was the way it was – made you feel powerful. Some cum wept out and he used that as lubrication as he pumped his cock. You bit your lip once more to stifle a moan as you snaked your own hand down to rub your clitoris.

Bryan ended with his head near your head; his cock sticking up gloriously straight in the air. It gave him a beautiful if upside-down view of your face and breasts. You leaned your head over the edge and he leaned forward into your mouth. Bryan thrusted in and out your mouth, relishing in the feel of your tongue on his erection. His cock felt heavy and delicious, stretching your mouth. Bryan cupped your breasts again as he continued thrusting in and out of your mouth. You sucked the pre-cum that dripped out from the slit in the head of his cock. The salty taste flooded your mouth. Bryan grunted as your tongue, soft and warm, swiveled over his cock. You licked every ridge and meaty vein before you hollowed your cheeks to suck him harder. You spread your legs wantonly and continued to pump your fingers, in and out and in again.

Bryan grunted as he leaned further to cover your hand, guiding you as you pleasured yourself. You slipped your fingers out and Bryan sucked them clean before slipping his thick fingers in, replacing yours. You moaned against his cock once and the vibrations caused Bryan’s hips to jerk in response. Your hands wrapped against the backs of his thighs. You could feel him getting close - the sinewy muscles in his thighs were twitching and trembling. Bryan stumbled backwards, leaving your mouth and aching pussy empty.

You let out a sound of frustration as Bryan walked over to the other side. You thought he’d might climb the desk and fuck you, but instead, he pulled you down to standing. You felt light-head as the blood rushed back down from your head. He pulled down your panties and he began to stroke himself against your soaked pussy. Over and over he rubbed his cock along your folds and swollen cit. It was rousing and lewd, the filthy act of him using you to get himself off, as if you were his own personal sex doll. You hooked your arms around his neck and began to undulate your hips, rubbing yourself equally on his thick, hard cock. It didn’t take long and Bryan groaned, shuddering against you as he came along your mound and panties in thick, hot, white, creamy ropes.

Bryan took a step back to survey the damage done – there you were, standing with your tits hanging out, your hair askew, and your panties ruined with your release as well as his. Bryan gathered some of his release onto his finger and offered it to you. You sucked in his finger, as if you were mimicking the blow job you had just given him. Your want and desire had grown exponentially and your pussy ached to be filled up and wrecked by his monster cock.

“In due time.” Bryan spoke. “We’ll continue at the New Years party.”

“Excuse me?” You asked. “We’re not…?”

Another grin appeared. Bryan reached and pulled up your panties until they were back on and he rubbed your clothed mound, that was full of his cum and your own messy release.

Bryan stood back and tucked himself. He pressed one last kiss to your lips. “New Year’s. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

You nodded. “Okay.” Seeing your disappointed look, Bryan kissed you once more. “Good girls get rewarded with daddy’s cum. So be good for me. Or else.”

Arousal shot through your body at his promise and threat. “Ok daddy.”

“Good.” Bryan replied with a wink. He turned to leave, with a very certain swag in his walk. You were now alone, in complete disarray of the evening’s events. But you had to admit, having his come in your panties made you feel completely defiled; you could hardly wait for New Year’s Eve.

Soon enough.

TBC.

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @bisexual-dreamer02 @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner @teamsladsandgents

#thatesqcrush holiday bingo #bryan kneef x reader #bryan kneef smut #bryan kneef imagine #bryan kneef and reader

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 4 years

Note

Why is it that people seem to always support trans women more than trans men?

Lee says:

If you’re part of an online forum community that is primarily transfeminine, for example, then there’s going to be a lot of resources for transfeminine people.

But if you’re part of an online forum community that is primarily transmasculine, for example, then there’s going to be a lot of resources for transmasculine people.

And just as there are particular online spaces and communities that tend to be predominated by a certain group, there are also IRL ones that are primarily transmasculine or primarily transfeminine even if they are not explicitly defined as such.

If you feel like you aren’t being supported enough in the space you’re currently in, see if you can find a community that does focus around the resources you’re looking for!

As an example- you may have noticed that the transmasculine post-op community on Tumblr is pretty small. There definitely are multiple bloggers out there, and I think I actually follow all of them, but this isn’t really a thriving hub of phalloplasty information or support, or a large community of transmasculine folks who are post-op and post-transition (Thanks, Tumblr NSFW ban!).

So instead, I seek out the spaces where the community I want to be a part of actually is gathering. Now I’m part of many different transmasculine lower surgery groups on Facebook (over 20 of em lol), I’ve attended IRL transmasculine lower surgery support group meetings in person, and now I’m in two different Zoom-based transmasculine bottom surgery support groups.

I also believe that if you want to see more of a particular thing, you should be a part of putting that thing out there! So I still maintain my transition sideblog here on Tumblr, where I will eventually document my phallo when I get stage 1 in May. And that’s how I support the transmasculine community, in my own way. So if you want to see more supportive posts for transmasculine folks, start typing!

We also have to remember that uplifting transfeminine doesn’t automatically occur at the expense of support for transmasculine people. We aren’t trying to tear each other down, so being resentful of the transfeminine community for the people who support them isn’t a good look. Transfeminine people can never have “too much” support!

I do think that there are certain spaces online that tend to focus on positivity and support for transfeminine folks, and there’s nothing wrong with that- again, yes, transfeminine people do deserve support! Transfeminine people often face the brunt of society’s violent transphobia, and it’s important that we recognize the way that trans women specifically are targeted more than other groups are.

Trans women are often hypervisible and a lot of transphobic movements are aimed at them as a result; bathroom bills because transphobes don’t want “men” in women’s bathrooms, banning trans athletes because transphobes don’t want “men” to take over women’s teams, trans people being banned from gendered homeless shelters because transphobes don’t want “men” to sleep in the same room as women, and so on. When you listen to any of these politicians who support these gross things, you’ll hear them constantly talk about the “danger” that trans women pose (while insisting on gendering them as “men” and refusing to recognize that they’re even women). Trans men aren’t even an afterthought.

Being culturally hypervisible in the media means you’re the target of a lot of hate and the recipient of a lot of support, which is all happening at the same time. On the other hand, the transmasculine community at large is less visible in the media which means we often slip under the radar as a community which of course does tie into the erasure of the community. Transmasculine people more often slip under the radar on a personal level too, because many transmasculine people are able to pass by at least 5 years on testosterone and many choose to go stealth as soon as they’re able to.

That doesn’t mean that all transmasculine people can pass or want to pass, or that transmasculine people don’t face transphobia and violence either, or that the vitriol targeting trans women doesn’t invalidate us as well or affect our rights too, or that we shouldn’t get to share our experiences or ask for support.

We can and should talk about transmasculine people’s experiences as well, and transmasculine voices shouldn’t be erased. Studies have shown that suicide attempt rate for trans boys is approximately 20.9% higher than it is for trans girls, for example, and there are many similar statistics showing that trans men struggle in many ways and face a lot of discrimination, which of course deserves acknowledgement.

Experiencing discrimination and subsequent mental health struggles isn’t something that should be glossed over, yet there are many pseduo-progressive folks in the LGBTQ/feminist communities whose posts can sometimes come across as “men are bad and trans men are men so they’re bad!” When you point out that there are plenty of marginalized men out there who need support, people are quick to say “Well, I’ll support you for being trans but I don’t need to support you because you’re a man since men have privilege and therefore perpetuate oppression!” But in the case of trans men, supporting someone for being trans is the same thing as supporting them in being a man, you can’t separate the two.

And you can spend all day talking about in what situations transmasculine people have access to male privilege and in what conditions the privilege applies and so on, but that is a separate conversation from the point here, which is everyone deserves support and that includes trans men (and gay men, and disabled men, and Black men, and Indigenous men, and Asian men, and so on).

Things like body-shaming men for having neckbeards or small penises is seen as okay even though body-shaming women for having body hair or having small breasts is recognized as misogynistic. Sometimes folks respond by saying something like “you can’t oppress your oppressor” which... makes no sense in this context. Making people feel that their bodies are bad goes against the whole body-positive feminist movement, and that’s true no matter which people you think you’re targeting.

It’s also pretty obvious that being a man doesn’t inherently make you a bad person, but a lot of the hate and anger directed at men (whether it’s posted as a joke or said seriously by someone who went through trauma) can make it difficult for trans men to recognize that they’re men because they don’t want to become the thing everyone hates.

So how do we navigate allowing marginalized people to vent about groups who have privilege without causing collateral damage to other oppressed people?

Some people have tried to solve it by saying “I hate only cis men, not trans men!” but then of course you’ve created a new issue which is the arbitrary distinguishment between a cis man and a trans man. A trans man can be just as misogynistic as a cis man, and being trans doesn’t mean anything about who you are as a person, all it says is something about the gender you were assigned when you were born.

When you say that you only hate cis men, you’re implying that you don’t hate trans men because you think they’re different than cis men in some way in their thoughts/behavior/actions which is a transphobic assumption.

Or you’re saying you know that trans men and cis men can be identical in their thoughts/behavior/actions because they’re all men, so the reason you don’t hate trans men is ... ?? because they had certain genitals at birth (which they may not have anymore) ?? And that’s also transphobic because it’s saying you hate people solely because of their bodies which they can’t always control or change and implies having a particular type of body is morally wrong somehow or that your body makes you a bad person.

When someone makes a point of telling a trans man that they hate men, it’s sometimes a deliberate transphobic tactic used to make the person feel like having a male gender identity is inherently bad and makes you bad because it’s who you are, so the only way to become a good person is to not be a man which means not being transgender. And this is some how TERFs try and convince trans teens who were AFAB to re-identify as women instead of embracing being men. It’s hard to embrace being something that people have told you is problematic so people try to repress their feelings and ignore who they are.

Yet folks who don’t say “I hate all men” and instead say “the patriarchy sucks but it’s okay to be a man and not all men are bad” have found that statement controversial too.

Even that phrase, “not all men,” is a red flag because it’s primarily used by the “men’s rights” folks who try and defend their misogyny and push their anti-feminist agenda while denying the ways that they personally benefit from the system. All men benefit from the system of patriarchy if they are recognized as men by the system, but that doesn’t mean every individual man is personally responsible for actively perpetuating oppression or that every man is a bad person.

So when someone points out the ways that men are taught to hate themselves by people who are constantly bashing on men in hurtful ways, or the struggles that men face (even if they aren’t struggles unique to men), there are people who just freak out because they think that acknowledging this is in some way trying to say that men can’t be oppressors, or that pointing it out is somehow delegitimizing women’s experiences or part of a pushback against women’s rights because the MRAs have tried to stake a claim over the entire topic.

So any nuanced conversation about ways that we actually can support men and break down oppression and uplift marginalized folks has been silenced because this toxic group has dominated the conversation and nobody wants to accidentally seem like they support those things, so they don’t support anything that focuses on men at all.

Similarly, when someone posts about something that affects trans men people (usually cis people TBH) often will respond with “trans women have it worse with that issue, and everything else too!” which isn’t a helpful response because while it’s important to recognize the way that trans women face multiple axes of oppression, uplifting trans women in a way that makes it impossible for another marginalized group to have a conversation doesn’t help anyone. It’s okay for some posts to not be about or for trans women without starting to play the Oppression Olympics games because transmasculine people also need support and space and allowing transmasculine people to talk about their experiences doesn’t mean that transfeminine people are being ignored.

All that being said, I would argue that people definitely don’t always support trans women more than trans men, and I wouldn’t even say that people usually do so. It very much depends on the space you’re in. While I do believe that there are a lot of positivity/supportive posts about trans women on Tumblr, this is, in many ways, a direct reaction to counter the large volume of hate that’s also actively being directed at trans women on Tumblr. And while there are plenty of “love trans women!” posts, there is also an issue with the lack of practical resources and material support for trans women because most of the content does not go beyond the surface level heart-emoji type post.

So in what I’ve noticed on Tumblr specifically (as this varies depending on the platform you’re using and the space you’re in), there can be more vocal (aka performative) support for trans women but it mostly tends to focus on their identities saying they’re valid women and so on but doesn’t give them much information or material support or anything else that I would deem a useful resource, whereas there might be less support for trans men in terms of “gender identity positivity for being male” but there’s more practical resources and information that they can use to aid in their transition.

Again, whatever you do, don’t complain that transfeminine people have too much support- that’s not the same thing as saying that you’d like more support for trans men struggling with X issue.

And yes, while we do have many things in common, there are some differences in the struggles the community faces and the experiences we have, and it’s okay to want to talk with other folks who are going through the same thing. That doesn’t mean that you don’t care about transfeminine people or that you think they should have a smaller platform or something, it just means you’d like support for your identity and transition (which is wholly unrelated to how much support there is or isn’t available for them).

So if you are looking for more support for trans men and feel like you aren’t getting what you need in the online or IRL spaces you’re currently moving in, you should try finding the spaces that are meant to be supportive communities for trans men and join them, whether they’re specific blogs, Facebook groups, Discord servers, or in-person/on-Zoom support groups, and also do what you can to create the support you want to see for your community!

#Lee says #not really sure what to tag this as #transphobia #discourse #suicide m #Anonymous #trans #transgender #nonbinary #lgbtq #lgbt #transgender teen survival guide #transgenderteensurvivalguide #TTSG

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rainandhotchocolate · 5 years

Note

Hi! :) Can I request a Sirius x Reader where they’ve left Hogwarts (they’re about 19 years old) and are in the order, reader and Sirius are in a heated argument bc Sirius keeps flirting with other girls. Reader gets called out on a mission for the order and as she storms out Sirius shouts something like “I hate u” (or something similar) and then the reader gets a severely injured on the mission for the order and when she comes back Sirius is freaking out and they apologise and make up 💕 Ty! :)

A/N YES I WROTE IT TODAY hope you enjoy bbg

About what I said last night.

Y/N tapped her fingers against the rough wooden surface at Alice and Frank apartment, the persistent noise catching Alice’s attention.

“Hey love, I know you’re not trying to but you’re about to dig a hole through my kitchen table,” Alice smiled knowingly at her, sitting down beside Y/N who grimaced apologetically.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise.” Y/N pulled her head away from where she had been staring, avidly trying to keep her eyes from straying back.

“What’s going on Y/N, you’ve been tense for weeks.” Alice leaned onto her hand, her deep blue nails showing up against her pale skin. Y/N sighed, her eyes flicking back towards the fireplace where Sirius and Marlene were standing. It wasn’t like Y/N didn’t know Sirius was like this, it was one of the reasons she had fallen for him in the first place, his blatant flirting and confidence just seemed to draw people in. Alice had followed her gaze and pursed her lips.

“Ahh.”

“Please don’t say anything, I just, it’s just so frustrating.” Y/N huffed, giving up on trying to avoid looking over and turning her head back to them. Sirius had his hand on Marlene’s shoulder and was grinning at her as she laughed loudly. Y/N had been catching bits of their conversation earlier, Sirius had been complimenting Marlene’s new platinum hair, wondering if she’d picked up many boys being a blonde. Y/N had brought it up a few times in the past, how he seemed to flirt with girls at parties and forget to mention he had been in a relationship for the past four years. Marlene always seemed to hurt the most though, they’d hooked up a few times before he asked Y/N out and watching them fall back into old patterns made Y/N feel like she’d just become invisible.

“You know I won’t, but if I’m going to be honest, if that was Frank I’d give him a right slap,” Alice raised an eyebrow as Sirius picked at a lock of Marlene’s hair before pulling Y/N’s attention back to her. “But you know he loves you, right? Even if he’s a bit of an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N dismissed her, grabbing at a sausage roll and spinning around on the chair slowly.

They left Alice and Franks’ around 12, after James had accidentally smashed part of the shed whilst trying to test a new spell that created fake snow and creating hail instead. They apparated back to Sirius’ apartment, a small one bedroom with open plan kitchen and living room that was covered in records and Sirius’ favourite muggle and magical bands hanging across the room. Y/N had been trying to calm herself down for the last 30 minutes, to no avail, and cringed when Sirius faced her with a knowing look.

“What’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” Y/N pushed passed him and hung up her coat, placing her bag on the couch and avoiding his stare.

“Bullshit, you’ve been dodging me all evening, come on, Y/N.” Sirius was always upfront when he was being confrontational, like he needed to take the upper hand in case things went awry.

“It’s really nothing, I just… you and Marlene-“

“Are you kidding me, this again?” Sirius huffed and Y/N felt the anger bubble in her chest as he cut her off.

“You were the one who mentioned it! I was just trying to tell you whats going on.”

“Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?” Sirius threw his coat off, pacing across the room. Y/N stared at him, gaping.

“Where the fuck did you get that from?” Y/N could feel the anger bubbling to the surface but she was no longer bothering to push it back down, her voice rising.

“You keep bringing this up as if I can’t be trusted, like I’m going around hitting on girls every minute of the day.” Sirius flung his arms up in defeat, huffing loudly.

“That’s because you bloody are!” Y/N yelled this time, getting frustrated. How dare he put this on her. “I just go around putting up with it, sorry if I’d prefer my boyfriend didn’t flirt with other girls.”

“I’m not flirting! I’m just having a laugh for Merlin’s sake.”

“Oh yeah? Ask that to the fifty numbers you’ve gotten to the girls you have conveniently forgotten to tell about me.”

“Fifty numbers?” Sirius gave her an exasperated look but Y/N stood her ground. She could feel all the frustration she’d been pushing down boiling over into her glare, her hiss.

“I’m just sick of feeling like I’m an afterthought.”

“I’m done with this fight, Y/N, I can’t bloody talk about it anymore.” Sirius turned away from her, heading towards the bathroom. Y/N stalked after him.

“We haven’t even spoken about it!” Y/N felt like screaming, how wasn’t he getting it.

“For fucks sake, Y/N! I can’t do this if you can’t trust me!”

“I just want to feel like you’re not looking for a fucking back up every time we go out!”

“I can’t deal with this right now, I’m meant to be –”

“We never deal with this stuff, we never deal with anything cause you can’t deal with conflict,” Y/N regretted it as she said it, Sirius’ eyes widening. Y/N had thought it before, Sirius’ deflecting, his constant confidence and banter. It had taken a whole year for Sirius to tell her he loved her, and another month before he could look her in the eye when he said it. It was like he was constantly needing to place a barrier between himself and anyone he might care about, in case they turn out like his parents.

“Get out,” Sirius hissed, his voice low and cold. Y/N didn’t move, shocked at what he said.

“What?” Y/N lowered her voice, unsure if she’d heard him right.

“I said, get the fuck out of my house, Y/N,” he raised his voice again and Y/N had to physically step back as he seemed to stand taller, looming above her. Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding loudly. Then she shook her head, breathing heavily and grabbing her coat, slamming her way out of his house and onto the streets of London.

Y/N woke up to a hand on her shoulder, shaking her softly.

“Y/N? We need to get up.” Alice’s voice drifted into her head and she blinked a few times before she could see Alice, fully dressed, standing above her. “Dumbledore’s called us in.”

Y/N was awake now. She pulled herself off the couch and slipped into her clothes from last night, piling up the blankets Frank had given her back onto the couch before Alice leaded her to their back step and they apparated to the location Dumbledore had sent.

They landed on the edge of a field, large oak trees on the horizon. Y/N spotted Lily waving them over a few steps away, standing at the corner of what looked like a very quiet main road. Alice and Y/N moved quickly over towards her, their breath puffing out in the icy cold morning air.

“Morning, girls,” Lily greeted them, wrapped in a large green coat and matching beanie. Y/N raised an eyebrow and Lily huffed in response. “James thought it would bring out my eyes. Shut up.”

“Anyway, Dumbledore has some intel about an attack on this muggle town this morning. He wants us to keep an eye out and deter it.” Alice whispered to the two of them as they leant casually against the stone wall behind them, Lily pulling out a packet of cigarettes and handing them around.

“Should we split up then, do rounds and meet up here every hour?” Y/N sucked in, breathing out softly and letting the cigarette warm her up from the inside.

“Sounds good,” Lily nodded to the right, “I’ll head this way, Alice you take the centre and Y/N the left. See you lot in an hour, send sparks if you need us.”

The three girls split up, not saying goodbye and moving calmly throughout the streets. As it was only about 5am, the streets were silent excluding a few dog-walkers and early morning commuters. Y/N smiled to a small shaggy dog that was bounding down the street far ahead of his owner who still looked like they were half-asleep. Y/N walked up and down each street cautiously, careful to cover her face as much as was normal with her scarf and beanie as she roamed her section of the town, making a note of the small alley ways she glanced down and anywhere that would be easy for someone to arrive unnoticed. Anytime she reached a street that was empty she cast protection spells against the front of the muggle houses to stop anyone from being able to directly apparate inside.

They got through the first two rounds with nothing to report except their tally of dogs passed per hour. Y/N rounded the corner on the edge of town the third time around slowed when she saw movement at the edge of a small alley that she had checked down previously and noted no entrances from it. She edged down the street carefully, her hand pressed tightly around the wand in her pocket.

Voices were drifting towards Y/N but she couldn’t quite make out what was being said. She held back before she reached the entrance to the alley way, pressing herself against the wall and making sure that no one was coming up the opposite direction. Suddenly she was pressed against the cold brick of the lane, her head pushed back and wand sticking into her neck.

“Been watching you,” A cold voice hissed in her ear. She could barely look down, a hand holding her head up roughly, the back of her skull beginning to throb dully. Y/N had kept her hand in her pocket and continued to grip tightly on her wand praying for the moment when she could put out sparks without getting accidently killed. Or purposely killed.

“I think we’ve found ourselves one of Dumbledore’s lovely women,” The person turned their head to the side, calling to an accomplice and Y/N took the bare second to pull her hand out of her pocket and blast red sparks into the air.

‘Expelliarmus!’ another voice yelled and Y/N felt her wand fly out of her hand and towards her right and her head getting pulled forwards and back against the bricks, sharp pain shooting up the back of her head and neck as she groaned loudly. Her vision was going blurry, eyes watering, the wand getting pushed harder into her neck.

“An annoying one apparently,” The voice at her ear hissed again and this time Y/N thought she recognised the taunting voice of Dolohov and felt her whole body tense. “She might need a bit of a harder time in questioning.”

Dolohov pulled the back of her hair tightly and pulled her along and down the alley way so that she was out of sight from the main street. Y/N screamed in agony, the grip pulling at the skin that had torn when she slammed into the wall, stumbling backwards and keeping her feet from slipping under and giving in all her weight to Dolohov. She saw the vague outline of another person standing beside her when she was thrown back to the ground.

“Hello, precious, I think I’ve seen yo-“ before the other death eater could continue Y/N pushed all of her weight into the back of her shoulders and kicked forwards, slamming them into their knees as hard as she could, her back scraping roughly against the concrete as they stumbled back.

And then it felt like all of her body was on fire. Every inch of her body suddenly wanted to not-exist, pure pain coursing through her very veins. A loud aching scream pierced the air and took a few moments for Y/N to realise it was coming from herself, her muscles spasming into positions she didn’t realise she could get into.

“Stupefy,” Lily’s voice rang around the laneway, Y/N’s body relaxing as a body went flying above her. Y/N could feel herself shaking uncontrollably, but desperately tried to inch herself out of the way and towards her wand which she’d spotted near the draining system to her left.

Spells were now flying around the alley way, both Alice and Lily dodging the two death eaters who had found positions beside the large dumpster for cover. Y/N breathed heavily but continued to move, keeping low as to avoid any rogue hexes, reaching for her wand slowly when crunch.

Y/N screamed again as a large boot stamped its way onto her hand, the small bones cracking from pressure. Y/N looked up to see a woman grinning at her, her dark eyes flashing maliciously before she was slammed backwards from another spell.

Y/N felt tears dripping down her face once more, her heart beating dangerously as she felt herself go into shock, trying to calm herself down.

“Incacerous!” Alice pointed her wand towards the unconscious death eater, slumped against the back wall, Dolohov disapparating on the spot. “Fuck, we missed him.”

Lily swept her wand around her head and a doe appeared by her side.

“Send for Dumbledore, tell him to get an auror here now.”

The patronus stalked away from her and disappeared into a ball of blue light. Alice had begun running towards Y/N, Lily following close after.

“Y/N are you ok?”

“Not at all,” Y/N gasped, closing her eyes as nausea began to wave over her.

“OK, we need to get you back to headquarters now, Lily are you ok to keep an eye on this one until the aurors get here?” Alice conjured a stretcher from thin air, flicking her wand again and lifting Y/N onto it so that her body was remaining flat.

“Definitely, get her fixed up. I’ll come check on you later ok?” Lily gave Y/N’s not crushed hand a squeeze and waved them off as Alice apparated them away, landing on the doorstep of Dumbledore’s safe house and pulling the door open. They were immediately greeted with a flurry of people, everyone turning on Y/N when they saw her, blood still trickling from the back of her head and shaking subtly on the stretched.

“Holy shit.”

“What happened?”

“Get her inside now.”

“I’m grabbing Sirius.”

Y/N felt herself drifting inside and towards the large living room where they had set up medical supplies and potions along the side of the wall. Y/N felt almost numb, her entire body throbbing as she was poked and prodded and lifted her head to pour potions down her throat. At one point she felt her body being pulled upright and leant against the back of a chair as someone began to work on the back of her head.

Loud voices began to find their way into the room, getting louder and louder as someone was storming towards them.

“I need to see her.”

“Sirius, mate, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Don’t you fucking dare block that door, James, so help me I will hex you out of the way.”

“Sirius, they need to work in there.”

“Let me see, Y/N, NOW!” Sirius boomed, the door swinging open to reveal James holding his hands up to let Sirius push past. Y/N saw him through blurry eyes rushing towards her, accidentally hitting a couple of people as he slid in front of her and picked up her unbandaged hand.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, are you ok? Merlin I feel sick – is she ok?” Sirius looked up to whoever was standing over Y/N.

“She’ll be ok, the back of her head is a flesh would but it’s taking more time than we expected to heal because of a cruciate-“

“The what?! Crucio?” Sirius gripped tighter onto Y/N’s hand, his voice shaking. “Who did this to her, I’m going to kill –”

“No you’re not,” Remus’ voice came into focus, “Here’s some chocolate, she’s going to need it after we’re done here.”

He passed it over to Sirius who didn’t look over, keeping his swirling grey eyes on Y/N’s.

“Y/N, are you ok? What can I do? I’m… I –“ His voice broke again. Y/N felt the spell that pressed against her skull, healing the wound. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t sleep, I wanted to come visit you at Alice’s but then Frank and. I hope you know I never meant to hurt you, I’m so sorry, please be ok.”

Sirius was shaking almost as much as Y/N now, his body pressing up against hers. Y/N could feel her consciousness returning, the pepperup potion slowly doing its job. She blinked a couple of times, trying to take in the room. A lot of the other order members had filtered out to give them some privacy, leaving only Remus and James who were muttering over the medical station.

“I just, I struggle letting you in – anyone in, I just fuck, I can’t stop thinking about what I said.”

“It’s ok,” Y/N mumbled, struggling to move her mouth. “I know, Sirius.”

“No, it’s not ok. You could have died, you can’t die on me Y/N I don’t know what I’d do –”

Y/N pulled him in closer with her free hand, closing her eyes and breathing him in.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” Sirius muttered into her shoulder, his arms wrapping tightly across her waist.

“I love you too, Sirius.”

He pulled away, brushing his hand across her cheek taking in a deep breath. Ok, everything was ok.

Taglist: @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana @avengersassemblee @maraudersandco @sly-vixen-up2nogood @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad @evyiione @minerva26love @aikeia@gollyderek @greatwombatblaze @songforhema @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom @hermionie-is-my-queen @demiwitch527

#rainandhotchocolate #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius imagine #sirius x you #sirius angst #sirius angsty fic #sirius black x you

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eschergirls · 4 years

Photo

Originally published at: https://eschergirls.com/photo/2020/04/22/totally-true-gender-science-pc-zone

From Jess Morrissette on Twitter (with permission):

"For some women, the 3D space and layout of an area in a game like Quake is not immediately obvious to them. Tunnels which lead off from a room, or even the entire architecture of the room, may be 'invisible.'" Source: "How to Get Your Girlfriend Into Games" (PC Zone, May 1999).

Holy s- this piece. And way to go with the "As your experiences in bed have undoubtedly told you, there is no bigger turn-off than a complete systems failure" part that seems to insult the presumed-to-be-male audience too? -_o And the "science" snippet that says women can't play FPSes because we can't navigate 3D space, but women are good at adventure games because women talk more than men... but remember gamer guys, don't complain about women being bad at things because you used to be a girl in your mom's womb once! Holy cow, PC Zone, not helping.

Transcription for screenreaders (big thanks to Bella (@MoviePosters00) for the transcription):

HOW TO GET YOUR GIRLFRIEND INTO GAMES

You've been playing games for years, but just imagine what they must look like from a non-gamer's point of view. They suck. The graphics are crap. Look out of your window — that's good graphics. These just look shoddy and blocky in comparison.

And what's with all the violence? Why do you have to kill everybody? Why can't you just talk to them? And what are these locations? Cathedrals? Dungeons? Catacombs? God, it's all so dark and depressing. And why are there so many blokes in these games? And what the hell am I doing spending hours playing this when I could be out talking to people, reading books, watching films, living life... This is how girls think.

Girls and games rarely mix. They rarely mix because you — man, boy, bloke, fellow, chap, me lad —you designed them.

Unlike most other examples of popular culture, computer games are predominantly designed and programmed by blokes and so inevitably appeal to men and the male tick-list of desirable experiences: being a superhero, being competitive, being murderous, and doing things fast.

Sure, we play the odd puzzler like Tetris. And yes, we can be found occasionally talking to elves in adventure games. But on the whole, we want violence, people's heads exploding, fast cars, big jets and gouts of hot arterial blood splattered against cobblestones. We want wars and vast armies of ourselves crushing other vast armies of people different to us into the dust.

She thinks: "Why play stupid computer games when you could be making me a cup of tea, paying me some attention, taking me out (or whatever your relationship revolves around)?"

You think: "Why waste valuable time attending to you when I've got to complete this freaking level?"

She strops. You grit your teeth. You feel bad about playing so you grab what gameplay you can in unsatisfying snatches, standing up every five to ten minutes and stroking her hair.

You say: "You okay?" She says: "Yeah. Guess so." You sprint back to your machine for another five-minute burst. Suddenly it's 2am. She's face-down asleep and you're having just one more go. Relationship: terminated.

Obviously, the ideal situation would be for both of you to like games. Those with PlayStations will probably have already experienced a touch of curiosity about games from their partners. But if the PlayStation is designed to be simple and appealing, the PC is a horrible beige monolith, forced to do games as an afterthought.

But it can be done. You can get your girlfriend playing games. We at PC ZONE have designed a 12-Part System. It takes some planning and no small amount of patience. We can't guarantee 100 per cent results but we believe, if you follow this plan, at the least, she will have some idea of why the hell you play games in the first place.

THE 12 RULES OF GIRLFRIEND GAMING

Step-by-step techniques for getting your girlfriend into games

1 CHOOSE WISELY

There's no point throwing her directly into Falcon 4 or Dark Reign II. Keep your game choices simple and realistic. Choose a game with strong interactive qualities and with real-life locations. There aren't, however, many good girl games on the PC.

PC ZONE chooses:

Half-Life

The hazard course is a particularly good starting point. It takes a while to get going but once they're hooked, they'll never stop.

Tomb Raider III

Despite what feminists say about her bosoms, girls like playing girls. Especially strong, agile ones.

Motocross Madness

Great driving game set 'outside', with hyper-realistic graphics. Exhilarating and amusing.

Creatures 2

Yeah, yeah, they "get to raise babies". Easy joke.

Worms

Because you can name the worms and then blow them up.

Quake II

Multiplayer especially. They'll hate it at first but try and try again. They'll get it.

Grim Fandango

Interactive, movie-like, funny, with a plethora of locations and mysteries. How much more girly can a game get?

Others (recommended by visitors to our website)

Puzzle Bobble, YOU Don't Know Jack, Baku Baku Animal, Civilization, SimCity 3000, Sam & Max, Broken Sword, Little Big Adventure, Settlers 3, Caesar IA Fallout 2, Zork: Grande Inquisitor

2 SET UP YOUR ROOM

Rule number one: tidy it. Rule number two: tidy it again (and vacuum this time). No-one wants their first introduction to games to happen in the midst of a smeg pit. Clear the mugs away. Wipe all those shavings and toenails off your desk. Clear the cigarette butts, bits of paper, Blu-tack and Coke cans out of the way. Get a nice clean mouse — not one clogged up with three months' worth of dried skin. Clean all those manky half-moons of crap off the keys on your keyboard, too.

Use Stanislavski's Circles Of Attention technique to minimise her distraction. Turn off the main light in your room and erect a side light which creates a pool of illumination around your computer. This makes the computer screen the centre of focus and mutes any peripheral distractions. In short, she has nowhere to look if she gets bored.

3 SELL HER THE GAME

Talk to her in language she can understand. Remember: you are a computer games geek.

She is a proper person who cares about things like emotions and novels. Don't use jargon. Ramp up any 'interactive' elements (talking, speaking, puzzle-solving). Play down hyper-violent aspects (flying globules of gibbage, explosions with true particles, realistic death throes). Once she's over her initial reluctance, she'll be as bloodthirsty as anyone, but you have to get her there first.

Half-Life

You want to say: "Next-generation first-person shoot 'em up with strong narrative elements."

You should say: "011, it's an amazing unfolding story with you playing the central character."

Motocross Madness

You want to say: "The real-time shadows are unbelievable and on Voodoo2 it uses tri-linear mapping for a super-realistic fractal landscape."

You should say: "It's really realistic and it's set outside."

Worms Armageddon

You want to say: "It's like that tank game you used to play in school where you'd enter the trajectory and balance it against wind speed."

You should say: "It's like Tetris."

TOP TIP If you're ever in any doubt about how to describe a game, just say: "It's like Tetris." Whatever you do, though...

4 DON'T OVER-HYPE IT

"Oh God, this is the best 3D shoot 'em up ever. The graphics are unbelievable. It’s such a brilliant game. It rules." Do not say anything like this or you'll create preconceptions. A game will have to have reality-quality graphics and the most involving storyline ever known to grab her after that sales pitch. To the uninitiated, compared to reality, a good film or a great novel, games - all games - suck and blow (at the same time).

5 HAVE A GOOD MACHINE

Don't waste your time trying to convert her to the Dark Side if you're packing a five-year-old PC with a green screen and Sinclair BASIC. Who wants to see a glut of piss-poor pixels masquerading as people and locations? Get 3D acceleration. And get it now. Get RAM. Get a nice big monitor and some meaty speakers. If you're going to use a joystick, get a big, firm one she can grasp (yes, insert crap joke here).

Get a joypad if you can. Remember, computers were never designed for games. It may be more versatile in the long term, but a keyboard isn't as forgiving as a joypad (plus you get to see her 'girl-steering' the pad in mid air when taking corners in racing games). The mouse is a brilliant 3D navigation device, but not at first and certainly not for someone used to pushing icons around a flat screen.

6 ENSURE EVERYTHING IS RUNNING CORRECTLY

As your experiences in bed have undoubtedly told you, there is no bigger turn-off than a complete system failure. Blue screen General Protection Faults are the gaming equivalent of a hair-trigger ("Oh sorry, I just GPF'ed"). Create a load of shortcuts on the desktop and configure keys/joystick/sound/video in advance - you don't want to stop the action over and over to adjust CD music volumes or the 'crouch' button.

Don't decide to check your email. Don't receive any phone calls. Don't schedule a clan match. Don't invite your mates over for a pissing contest. Make sure it's just you and her.

7 DON'T TAKE OVER

This is Five Gold Rings of the plan - the most important piece of advice. Resist the temptation to dominate proceedings. As she tumbles - for the fortieth time - headlong into the lava, do not snatch the mouse out of her hand and show her how it's done. Encourage. Encourage. Encourage. Every fibre in your body will be screaming for you to take the mouse - don't. Take a deep breath and count to ten. Better still, go outside and scream into a pillow (perhaps two. Eiderdowns). The more you interrupt and cajole, the less she will become immersed in the game and the more you will fail.

8 REASSURE HER

Like any newbie, she needs constant reassurance.

She says: "I'm crap."

You say: "No, you're not just schooled in the conventions of this medium."

She says: "Oh, I can't do it"

You say: "It took me a while to get the hang of it, too."

She says: "What's the point? I don't get it. I'm not doing it anymore."

You say: "There's a really brilliant bit coming up. Just stick at it."

She says: "I'm bored."

You say: "There's a bit like Tetris coming up in a sec."

She says: "Where's the bit like Tetris?"

You say: "It's coming in a minute, okay?

9 DON'T PATRONISE HER

"Ooh, you're doing really well," you say, as she dies on the Half-Life hazard course 50 times in a row. She's not stupid. She knows the difference between succeeding and failing. If she has developed black-ball trouble or a psychological block, change the scenery. Try a different game or a different level. Surreptitiously turn God mode on. Anything.

10 MAKE IT PART OF AN EVENING

Don't just announce that tomorrow night, you'll be playing computer games together. Or lock her in and force her to sit in your chair for hours. Go out for some beers first, or get some wine in, or whatever your relaxation method of choice is. Don't push it. Imagine this is like date number two or three. You wouldn't slap it on a tray and say "Let's go," would you? Maybe you would, but pacing and timing and bit of restraint are going to get you further.

Also, get some snacks in. PC ZONE recommended snacks for girlfriend gaming: Tooty Fruities.

11 POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT

It is a psychological fact that people will do things they don't want to if there's a reward for them at the end. You may have to trade. Say you'll go to see a film with subtitles with her if she spends an hour playing games. Or that you'll cook something other than corned beef curry. Or that you will finally pull out those dirty socks that are stuck like cardboard behind the radiator. There has to be a trade. You don't get something for nothing. Hopefully, to use an unfortunate comparison, like Pavlov's dog, every time she hears the ping of the SimCity 3000 menu options or the splattery fine red mist of giblets hitting cobblestones in Quake, she'll start salivating.

And finally...

12 DON'T BE SELFISH

Now you have succeeded in getting her as addicted to games as you are, you must nurture her interest. This means sharing your machine.

Remember, girls always win at beat 'em ups. You can revise all the best, most shimmery combos and special moves but she, just by randomly banging the joypad, will triumph every time. If you lose, don't tell her it was "a crap game anyway". Be gracious.

Maybe you should invest in another PC and set up a network. That way, she can play, you can play, and you can settle washing-up arguments with the railgun. Ah, bliss...

Oh, and don't forget to delete that porn.

AND NOW, THE SCIENCE BIT...

Blokes don't like talking about their emotions and girls can't park. Crass sweeping generalisations or statistically proven sweeping generalisations?

A variety of behavioural differences have been reported for men and women, and researchers have zoned in on 'parallel parking' as an example of the differences between male and female thought processes. Men can often 'see' the space, in 3D, in their brains. Women can perceive the gap, but need to talk about it in order to understand its relationship with the length of their car. They ask themselves questions and come to a conclusion, which takes longer than the male approach, which Is just to pile in there and use the alarms of the vehicles in front and behind to judge distances.

This car-parking phenomenon also has an influence on the way women perceive computer games. For some women, the 3D space and layout of an area in a game like Quake is not immediately obvious to them. Tunnels which lead off from a room, or even the entire architecture of the room itself, may be 'invisible'. This is not, as your grandfather no doubt maintains, because "women are stupid" but simply because they have a tendency to perceive 'negative space', the gaps between objects rather than the objects themselves.

The widely-held belief that women only like adventure games can be explained by recent studies, which found that women spend 43 minutes a day making personal calls and men only 22. Women speak, on average 9,000 words a day, while men utter a mere 2,000. Generally speaking, women communicate more and enjoy the act of talking and interacting more than men.

Anyway, before you start moaning about crap girl gamers or bad parking arguments, remember this: until six weeks into your mother's pregnancy, you were a girl. Then your defective X chromosome kicked in. Everything went haywire and for some reason your nipples weren't absorbed. Your clitoris, however, remained and grew and grew into your penis. Just remember that.

PUT TO THE TEST

We put PC ZONE's 12-Part System for getting your girlfriend into games to the test. We took a bunch of girls, various games, applied the system and tried to convert them to the Dark Side. Here's what happened...

NAME: Paula

AGE: 27

JOB: Make-up artist

STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES BEFORE: "Boring waste of time. A typically mindless male pursuit."

STANCE AFTER: "No different. The kind of thing you do in the absence of any other stimulation or activity. When you're trapped in the house and there's no alternative. It makes me want to go and read a book."

VERDICT: Thoroughly resisted conversion to the Dark Side.

NAME: Vanessa

AGE: 22

JOB: Model

STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES BEFORE: "I've only played PlayStation games before. I like martial arts games."

STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES AFTER: "I really enjoyed them, but I still prefer games that get my adrenalin going."

VERDICT: Converted.

NAME: Mandy

AGE: 27

JOB: Hairdresser

STANCE BEFORE: "I've played puzzley games like Tetris. I get quite addicted, but how blokes can play them for hours or weeks strikes me as strange."

STANCE AFTER: "It's tempting once I get started."

VERDICT: Not much change

NAME: Emma

AGE: 24

JOB: Archaeologist

STANCE BEFORE: "They're all full of blood and violence. For boys who haven't grown up. I like building games like SimCity."

STANCE AFTER: "A bit disappointed you can't shoot people's legs off, but yeah, good fun."

VERDICT: Success.

NAME: Helen

AGE: 28

JOB: Stockbroker

STANCE BEFORE: "They are quite good, but far too complicated. A solitary, masturbation-type thing."

STANCE AFTER: "Yeah, good. I like them. Although I don't think I'm going to develop a habit or anything."

VERDICT: Our job here is done.

Quake ll

PAULA: "It's quite dismal. I don't have any sense of where I am. I'm just running around mindlessly. (Picks up some health 'biscuits.') Have those things disappeared because I picked them up? I don't know where I am. Am I trapped underground? Don't know where I've come from, don't know how to get out (she spends minutes shooting wall fillings). How do I know that's a door? I don't really understand the rewards. I get mild satisfaction from shooting someone. And blowing their head off."

Motocross Madness

PAULA: "I like the outside setting and the freedom. It's exhilarating to move over nice bumpy terrain. It doesn't look that realistic".

VANESSA: "I love this. It's more me. I love racing. The graphics aren't that amazing. I do like the crashes, though. It's wicked. I could play this for hours. It's brilliant. Wheeeeee (performs enormous, deadly cartwheel which should splatter drivers against the rockface like a plum). There's so much open space all over the place. I even like falling off."

MANDY: "It's a bit samey. What are you supposed to do? I like having race-oriented goals. I wouldn't buy it. It's got really weird, illogical controls."

EMMA: "Don't think much of the ground. How are you supposed to know where you're going? I've never been on a bike before... Oooh! I'm doing a wheelie! (The girls clap.) Why is it so sunny? It wouldn't be sunny. It'd be all muddy, like on KickStart, with people standing around who you could hit."

Pacman

PAULA: "Immediately challenging, but there's a really depressing quality about it. The `so what' factor is very strong. The graphics are shit - just lines and dots on a bit of paper. Don't care whether I win or lose. (Indignant) How old is this game?"

Half-Life

PAULA: "Much more exciting than Quake II. More problem solving - more appealing in that sense. The tension is greater and there's more suspense. The usual dismal, claustrophobic setting. It makes me feel anxious and tense. Ah! Ah! (Genuinely screams loudly when she sees a zombie.) That's horrible! I get bored when I go round and round in circles. It makes you aware of how mindless it is. It's quite satisfying - oh (plummets 10,000 feet to her doom) but it's quite satisfying to kill a bizarre monster."

VANESSA: "Feels more real than on the PlayStation. It's quite exciting - all these holes to jump through. It's exciting to use all these fingers. I hate it when I lose. I love guns. I like holding the gun. I thought I just came up the ladder. Why should I go down again? I wish something more exciting would happen. This is boring."

MANDY: "This is good. I like this. I like the fact that you're making progress. I'm excited. I like the way his arm moves (she ducks to avoid low pipes on screen). Quite impressive, but I couldn't play it for hours."

Grim Fandango

HELEN: "Superb. I like things like this. I like shooting things, it leads you into the scenario. You have to find something, secret things (she is getting visibly excited). There's a mystery. That gave me a rush of pleasure (she finds the way out of the first room). That looked like it should do something. I want to go back and see."

EMMA: "it's the kind of game where you'd suddenly realise it was 2am and you had to get up for work in the morning. I like the music that's on in the background."

MANDY: "There's so much more to see - it's a lot more interesting to look at. I like the detail. You're not just doing the same thing over and over again. It's good because this isn't the kind of game where my boyfriend could phone me up to brag about his high score. Yeah, he does that"

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