#the guy that writes about every woman getting raped or abused or having sex is a weirdo 😱EGGS!

[decompositie]

saw this post that was like ‘it’s unproductive to say Neil Gaiman has always been a shitty writer, hes a good writer and a horrible person’ and like sure but i do have to say that i have also always detested his writing. Like it is to me kind of bad and weird sorry but that just my op onion its just not for me

[july-19th-club]

everybody in the goodreads one-stars dislikes outlander because it's got too much rape and dubcon in it, which is fair and is in fact what turned me off of the show in college. but many of them dont like the sex in this book in a puritanical way and they're WRONG it's not bad because it's sex! it's not even necessarily bad because it's sexualized violence. it's bad because it's poorly contextualized, not justified by the text enough to bear as much repetition as it gets, and neither fits nor deconstructs the genre it's trying to play around with.

like, the marriage/sex/punishment-by-force fantasy is clearly a fetish of gabaldon's, so the book bends over backwards to present opportunities for it whether they make story sense or not, and in so doing gives readers a skewed understanding of the period and location it's simultaneously attempting to do historical fiction in. WHICH WOULD BE FINE IF: this was georgette heyer we were talking about, por ejemplo, and the whole scene was established as the kind of pseudo-history fantasy realm such fetishes often take place in. after all, there's a particular brand of time-tested romance fiction where the whole conceit is a fluttery but undeniable "but you don't understand - i had no other choice!" which allows our heroine the chance to indulge sexually without being considered a slut (see dan lavery's piece on this subject). which i think is what gabaldon's trying to do with the plot contortions that require claire to get married, and then REQUIRE their marriage to be consummated With Witnesses, and then REQUIRE him to beat her in order to maintain standing...etc, etc, etc. a good british woman doesn't want to commit adultery, a good british woman doesn't like it rough, a good british woman doesn't get off on humiliation, etc. which, described that way, almost talks me back into the whole idea.

except the description i just gave is not how it reads in the book. in the book there's no indication that she's performing mental gymnastics to get past her hangups, or that there's some underlying Understanding between characters, author, and reader. it reads like she's married a budding young abuser who claims 'this is normal here' to get what he wants. WHICH brings us to the whole 'savage man-beast...but i WANT him...but he's so violent! but i can TAME him' trope. it's only this side of racist here because the scottish people in this book are white. this man can't be expected to have respectful attitudes, those are modern. and he's from a strong, manly culture! and there's no use looking around for some other kind of guy, because everybody's like that here, and that's history, man. there's a scene in this book where her tarzan in tartan believes that all sex is doggie style and is shocked to learn it isn't. this scene made it into the show.

what im trying to say is. she's both trying to write serious hist fic AND trying to have the protagonist get raped every other page so as to justify the amount of sex in the book. like...i feel insane saying she's doing it wrong when i read carey with gusto, but again, there we are in the 'context' issue. carey's context is that the protagonist is a) a professional sex worker and b) a confirmed masochist, so it's no shock to the reader when she goes to have sex with a patron and he lays into her with a flail. people who don't want BDSM aren't going to be reading Jacqueline Carey. she even has goddamn safewords, for chrissake. and while it absolutely can be argued that the absence of a declared scene in-text IS part of the fantasy for some readers - and must be for at least a few of the outlander fanbase, since people think these books are sexy - there's just too much failure to commit. either claire is into it or she's not, either this is a wish fulfillment kink book or it's hist fic. a better writer might be able to thread that needle in such a way as to keep it both sexy and consistent, but gabaldon's not that writer. her fetishes come off uncomfortably; her details are sometimes wrong enough that even not very historically minded readers point them out and find themselves jarred out of the story.

and...worst of all? she's not at all interested in the time travel aspect of her book, which may not seem like the worst sin here, but let me go out by tying this into its origins. she based the books on doctor who, a show about travel through time and space. rarely do her 1740s characters make it to the 1940s, where the story starts - she doesn't care about the nineteen forties, or later the sixties, after the time skip. they are where stodgy frank is from. they are where claire is exiled after she's torn away from her highland lover! she doesn't care about this timeline except insofar as they constitute a Modern place (but not too modern!) to act as a bland counterweight to the pull of those glorious days of old. the interplay of timelines is never really about culture shock or culture sharing, never really about what it would be like to survive culloden and then find out about the nineteen sixties. not in a funny, lighthearted way; not in a serious, all-implications-delved-into way. in diana gabaldon's time travel, the twentieth century is only there to get away from, to leave for some imagined romantic past where men are real men, women are real women, and small furry creatures from alpha centauri - except, wait. we don't know, do we, if the small furry creatures from alpha centauri are real small furry creatures from alpha centauri. in diana gabaldon's story, the scottish guy doesn't even go anywhere near alpha centaurai. truly there's no fixing this one.

[hellaversity]

It really says something that the Helluva Boss fandom is willing to excuse every evil action Stella does and every evil thing she says, especially her abuse towards Stolas and begging for her to have sympathetic traits, yet not once have I ever seen an HB fan desperately wishing for Crimson or Mammon to be portrayed more sympathetically than they are in the show and call it bad writing when they don't show any redeeming qualities. The fandom just accepts the fact that those guys are pure evil without batting an eye. Nobody asks why they're the way they are. But Stella? Nope, there MUST be a sympathetic reason for her being an abusive bitch to Stolas because it's apparently "unrealistic" for a woman to abuse her husband out of spite never mind the fact that those kinds of women actually exist in real life.

These images pretty much speak for themselves.

Crimson, Striker, Mammon, Andrealphus and Valentino are no less two-dimensionally evil than Stella is. What reason did Crimson have to murder his own wife and make his son experience it? Just to traumatize him? The show never really says why he does it, he just does it so the audience can have a reason to hate him. What reason does Striker have to help Stella try to kill Stolas? None, as far as we know. What is there to Mammon's character other than abusing Fizzarolli and being a greedy asshole in general? Why does Andrealphus flirt with his own sister and participate in her scheme to have Stolas murdered by Striker? Because reasons. Why is Valentino a rapist who takes advantage of Angel Dust and sexually abuses him? Just because he can. What makes Stella any different from these guys other than being female?

Fans are just asking for her to be more sympathetic because she's a woman and they can't accept the fact that women are capable of abuse without trying to justify it. The whole "behind every bad bitch is a man who made her that way" bullshit. People who see a woman beating her husband in public and automatically assume he did something to deserve it even if they have no evidence or context for what actually happened. Even though Stella has been treating Stolas like shit before he cheated on her, and he likely wouldn't be sleeping with Blitzø if she wasn't so horrible to him in the first place. He never even puts his hands on her and allowed her to abuse him so that Octavia could live and grow up with normal parents. (As normal as Stella and Stolas could possibly get with each other, anyway.)

Stella made fun of Stolas for not participating in sex with her and laughed about it while he was standing 2 feet away from her, and knew he was there. Whether or not she raped him to produce Octavia is a discussion for another day. If anything, Stolas cheating on her was revenge for treating him like garbage for so many years. She humiliated and embarassed him in public before getting a taste of her own medicine when Stolas does the same to her in return. She wouldn't even let him divorce her because she enjoys being mean to him. I wouldn't mind if Stella was given more charaterization outside of "abusive wife" but honestly? I don't really care if she's given sympathy or not. I don't want to sympathize with her. If Valentino isn't gonna change his ways any time soon, I have no reason to believe that Stella can. FFS Stella apologists make me mad. Even if you type in the "anti stella" tag on tumblr there are more posts defending and excusing her actions than those actually opposing her and saying "uh, no, she's just a cruel bitch" meanwhile if you type "anti Stolas" that's exactly what you're gonna get, pretty much exclusively.

Goes to show how hyper-sensitive tumblrinas are over female characters rightfully being portrayed as in the wrong when they fucking are.

[schizomatic3000]

my college essay <3

There’s always a debate about what really makes someone a woman; I believe it’s fear. The specific type of fear only women can have when they know that this interaction could end in an assault. It’s like when you get your blood pressure checked, they place the band around your arm and it starts squeezing. Only the band is put around your legs, neck, and heart; you can’t run away, you can’t scream for help, you’re about to become a statistic. The worst part is that most men barely realize when it happens. They’ll see a girl talking with their friend across the room and silently cheer him on, completely ignoring her darting eyes searching for help or her side steps to prevent him from cornering her. To be a woman is to always know you’re in danger.

One of my favorite musical artists is a band called Badflower. One of the main reasons I love them so much is because all four members are not afraid to talk about important social issues. In fact, their newest album, “This Is How The World Ends”, is all about social issues ranging from patriotism to the effect the pandemic had on politics. The eleventh track, "Tethered", keeps in line by following a young girl who ends up being drugged and raped at a party by a much older man; subsequently leading her to marry him and stay in the abusive relationship. Once the emphasis on her naivety is made, the following lines play in the third verse: "Then speech becomes a slur, She’s talking to some creep, Uncomfortable as hell, But too polite to leave" You can tell by the last line alone that it was a man who wrote this song; any woman would have said "scared" instead. 

The fact that men can write an entire song about this issue and still completely misunderstand it demonstrates how uniquely feminine this experience is; men will never understand our fear, pain, or solemn understanding of our place in the world. Every woman has, at least once, dealt with a creepy guy whether he was following her in the store, staring at her on the beach, or outright catcalling every girl has a story. Yet if you ask a man about his experiences with sexual assault, chances are he won’t have any. This isn’t to discredit male survivors but to highlight the disproportionate gap between sexes. Most men won’t even think twice about walking to their car after work but women are always told to go in pairs "in case anything happens".

When men are talking to a creepy guy, he doesn’t want to end the conversation out of fear of being seen as rude. If he abruptly ends the conversation and moves on to do something else, the other person might be offended and not talk to him again. But when women are talking to a creepy guy, she doesn’t want to end the conversation out of fear. If she abruptly ends the conversation and moves on to do something else, the other person might be offended and follow her to the bathroom to get her alone. Growing up young girls are constantly taught how to protect themselves, not to walk alone at night, never leave your drink unattended, and always share your location when on the first date. It is never presented to you as an "if this happens to you" scenario, but rather as a "when it happens" scenario.

Sexual assault is always on women’s minds as it is the only thing we all have in common; the fear of it happening to us. Men can never and will never be able to experience that level of systematic terror. When women are feminists, it's because they will literally die without it. When men are feminists, chances are they just want girls to think they're hot. Even if they truly do want a change in how women are treated, they can't even begin to understand what it means to be in that position. The feminine experience of fear is what defines me as a woman, but it will never define me as a person.

[bensolosbluesaber]

You’ll Never Keep Him (Poe Dameron x f!reader)

EVERYONE STOP! Please read the warnings below as this fic deals with the aftermath of rape, severe trauma, and abuse.

Warnings: Mentions of rape and sexual assault, non-explicit references to rape, reader was a victim of sexual assault and violence, reader’s trauma is shared without her consent, reader is in a very dark mental place, generally very mature themes. PLEASE do not read this fic if these might be triggering or uncomfortable for you.

Summary: Your trauma is your best kept secret, a secret even from Poe, the person you love more than anyone else. Well, it’s a secret until a meddling ex of his gets ahold of your medical records and promptly leaks them to the whole Resistance. ~3,600 words

Angst, angst, and angst (Happy ending though)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x f!reader (she/her pronouns)

A/N: I’m serious about these warnings. Dead dove and all that. Bonus for you guys, I listened to these songs while writing this: Atlantis (Seafret), Till Forever Falls Apart (Ashe), Line Without a Hook (Ricky Montgomery)

--

For the first time in as long as you could remember, your life was good. Not just livable, but really and truly good. The First Order was nearly extinguished and with it the worst of your night terrors. You found friends, good friends: Rose, Finn, Rey. And of course there was Poe, your doting and charmingly arrogant boyfriend who - despite his reputation - had never been anything but patient at your unwillingness to have sex.

Not that he knew why. Not that anyone except Rey and a few medics knew why. You want Poe to know, and you want to sleep with him. Sleep with him that is, since you practically live together anyway. But every time you so much as think about sex your skin gets clammy and your stomach twists into knots.

That is what you are thinking about as you eat lunch with your friends. Poe is coming home tonight, and as you stare at your now empty plate, you can’t help but think that maybe tonight is the night. The usual clamminess is hardly present and your stomach is twisting, but you think that maybe this time you are feeling the same nerves anyone would feel. You might be ready. You might have finally summited your mountain of trauma.

It was a stroke of cruel irony that just as that thought had the audacity to emerge so did she - Poe Dameron’s ex. She was a brief fling during the war, and that’s all it was ever going to be. But things ended… poorly. That was how Finn explained it last week, with a pregnant pause before ‘poorly.’ Maker, it had only been last week that the woman had shown up, smiling far too big, greeting Poe with an uncomfortably long hug, shooting you a sneer over his shoulder. She transferred to this base just to get close to Poe. At least that was Rose’s working theory.

You weren’t afraid of her. Years as a spy and months of torture saw to that. Not much scared you anymore - sex not withstanding. She was no threat to your relationship; you trusted Poe’s whispered promises. 

In retrospect, you should have been more wary of her, especially when she volunteered to stitch up your arm yesterday. She had done a good job, been friendly. Too friendly.

She stands behind you and drops a data-pad on the table with a bang that makes you turn. Her arms are crossed, her mouth pulled into a smirk that was all-too familiar. ‘Guess what I know,’ it seemed to taunt you.

You glance down at the data pad then turn back to her. She raises a single eyebrow, and only then do you realize what is on the screen. Your head whips around and you snatch up the data pad. Your medical records. How had she gotten her hands on these? Only medics and nurses who treated a patient could access their records, and yesterday she had… Shit.

No. No, no, no. It’s all you can think as you stare at the bright screen with wide eyes.

“Interesting read.”

“This is private,” you hiss quietly.

“Sweetie, I’m your doctor.”

Do not make a scene. Do not make a scene. Rey is tense beside you, and across the table Finn and Rose have gone silent. The rest of the mess hall continues with their lives like this woman isn’t casually ripping open a barely healed wound in the middle of lunch.

“I thought this part was particularly interesting.” She points to the screen as she leans over you. “I never knew you went through so much after your cover was blown.”

‘Patient demonstrates behaviors (documented below) suggesting she was subjected to prolonged torture and sexual abuse. Her physical injuries (see attached scans) corroborate these findings.’

You didn’t need to read any more. In your worst months you had committed this file to memory as some sort of fucked up coping mechanism. You can recite your long list of injuries and trauma induced behaviors from memory.

The woman in front of you looks around then leans in inches from your face to whisper loudly, “What was it like to tell Poe about all of this?”

The situation has caught you so off-guard that you can’t hide the expression that clearly says you have not told him.

“Oh, sweetie!” Her tone is so condescending you want to put your fist through her throat. Obviously she already suspected Poe was clueless about this whole thing. “You haven’t told him? Well… I mean, why does he think you won’t fuck him? You know sex is essential to maintaining a good relationship with a man like Poe. He has needs.”

You’ve never been concerned with how much the Resistance gossips, how involved everyone is in each others personal lives. Not until now since clearly your sex life, or lack thereof, is the subject of interest.

“What would you know about having a good relationship with Poe?” Finn snarls from behind you. Without looking at him, you shake your head. Not here. Not where everyone can see.

“What do you want?” You need to diffuse this situation and fast.

“I just want Poe to know the truth about his little girlfriend.” Her voice grates on your ears. She straightens up, her voice getting louder with each word. “I mean if you fucked half the First Order, why not Poe? Maybe you think he’s not good enough for you? You’ll never keep him if-”

“Stop!” You bite out as you jump to your feet.

It’s becoming a scene. Her raised voice has caught the attention of a nearby table, and the silence ripples through the mess hall slowly as you stare each other down. Soon the quiet in the large space is thunderous. The woman taps at a data pad calmly. All eyes are on you.

“Don’t worry about it, hon.” She shows you the screen, and it takes a moment to realize what you are looking at. A few data pads ding, and in your mind the sound reverberates into a violent, endless ringing.

She just sent confidential medical files, your file, to everyone stationed on this base. She just sent your file to Poe.

“Sweetie, don’t be mad. Poe deserves better than some bitch who will whore herself out to the enemy for fun but not fuck…”

For an instant it is not her voice you hear.

You might make it out of here alive, but then you’ll just be some bitch who slept with the enemy.

Tears sting your eyes. She is grinning that monstrous grin. One second your eyes drop to the ground. The next they fall on her curled lips. And then you have a fistful of her crisp, white, standard issue medical jacket and are shoving her to the ground.

You hit her once. Hard. Then again. Warm red blood sprays from her nose and coats your closed fist. The next strike she tries and fails to block. She’s screaming something about how crazy you are, but you could care less as you strike her again and again. She already spilled your best kept secret to the whole Resistance. Honestly, what more did you have to lose?

“Stop. Y/N, stop!” Rey grasps your biceps and pulls you back.

“You’re fucking crazy!” The woman spits blood as she pushes herself into a sitting position.

“Rose, get her out of here before I kill her myself,” Rey snarls.

You couldn’t say how you made it to Poe’s room, just that you did and managed to seal the door behind you before you crumpled onto his bed. No doubt Rey lingered outside, maybe with Rose and Finn, trying to touch your mind through the Force without being invasive.

You sobbed into the pillow that still smelled like the man you loved. You cried until your eyes physically couldn’t produce another tear, and then you walked on shaky legs to the small bathroom to clean the blood from your hands and change into something more comfortable. The clock told you it was nearly dinner time. You wouldn’t be going.

Instead, you curled back up in Poe’s bed and clung to his pillow, imagining it was him. Even as you lay there with your clouded mind and wished Poe would come home soon, part of you dreaded his return. He’ll have seen the file. He’ll know what they did to you. He was never meant to find out this way.

He’ll know what you did. The last thought you have before your exhausted body caves into the lure of the warm sheets is that woman’s voice echoing in your mind.

Why not Poe?

You’ll never keep him.

--

Poe smiles at your sleeping form, and heads right to the fresher to clean up. He is blissfully unaware of today’s events; he ignored incoming messages all day, trying to get home as fast as possible.

Soon, he’s tucking himself into bed and pulling your back flush against his chest. It wakes you up: his warmth, a few soft kisses on your head, the wiggle of his hips against you. It is as far as he will take things with you. You set that boundary, and he respects it completely.

“Hi baby,” he whispers.

Poe is home. There is a second of relief, then you’re wide awake.

You’ll never keep him. You have to keep him. 

Normally, his return would bring nothing but joy, but now the anxiety coursing through your body has you shaking in his arms. It is utterly irrational. Poe never pressured you before, never hinted at wanting more than you were comfortable with, but your racing thoughts - poisoned by that woman - tell you that he must be lying, that he will get bored of you. That he is bored.

So you turn and kiss him. Hard. Kissing Poe is nothing new, so he wraps his arms around you, sinking into the kiss easily and thinking nothing of it until you’re half on top of him with your hand dipping to the waistband of his pants. There you hesitate. 

You’ll never keep him.

His skin is soft under your fingers and there’s a rough smattering of hair along his lower stomach.

As you start to move lower, your fingers ghosting over the curve of his hips, he whispers, “Are you sure?”

Answering him will only force you to reveal the truth. You are sure. Sure that you don’t want this and equally as sure that he does. Sure that he needs this. So instead of replying, you swing a leg over his hips, settling atop him and working your hands up and under his shirt as you kiss him again and again. It gives you a second to steel yourself for what you must do.

His hands grabs yours tightly, freezing your movements at his chest.

“You’re crying,” he murmurs.

You hardly hear him, struggling to free your hand from his grasp to give him what he must have wanted for ages. But he is much stronger than you.

“Stop,” he says kindly but firmly. “Stop.”

It’s not until he whispers your name that you finally snap out of it just enough to realize what you are doing. You’re straddling his hips. A prominent hardness pokes at your thighs. Poe’s eyes are big and confused.

“You don’t want this,” he breathes, and much to your surprise there is not a hint of anger. That doesn’t stop your desperation.

“You do,” you whisper back, and your voice is so pathetic you drop your gaze from his in shame. “I can feel it. You do.”

You grind your hips down on him. He exhales through his nose, grabs your waist, and holds you still as he fixes you with an utterly lost look.

“Not if you don’t,” Poe insists. “This is- this is a physical reaction. It’s just because I haven’t had sex in a long time.”

The words settle like rocks in the pit of your stomach. The reason Poe hasn’t had sex in a long time is you.

“I want this.” You lie and bite down on the inside of your lip until warm coppery blood fills your mouth.

You swallow it and lean down to kiss his neck, working your lips along the rough stubble on his jaw, over the tiny scar on his cheek, back to his neck.

“Baby, please. Stop.”

Warm hands guide you off him. The rejection shouldn’t sting, not when this is hardly something you actually want. But sting it does. 

Light flares in the room, bright but a soft white that you shut your eyes against as you sit and pull your knees to your chest.

“When I told you we could wait as long as you want, I meant it.” Poe sits up to lean against the wall.

You open your eyes to see his hand extended, offering you a spot on his chest. Instead you turn away to stare blankly at the wall in front of you. It’s white. Clean and sterile and white. No pattern. Just a uniform white wall that you wish would swallow you up.

You turn to him. It takes all your strength to look at his face and make your eyes focus on his handsome features. A few of your tears still linger on his cheeks. Curly brown hair sticks in every direction. The chain of his necklace peeks out from under his collar. He’s beautiful. He’s perfect and kind. And he deserves better than a girl who can’t even bring herself to sleep with him. Especially when… especially when…

“I’ve had sex.” You force the words out before you can think better of them. “Now that you’ve seen m- my medical records, don’t you feel entitled to… something?”

“Baby.” He swipes a lose strand of hair from your eyes, not missing how you shy away from his hand for a split second. You hadn’t done that in ages. “What happened before us doesn’t matter. I promise. I will-” Then his mind finally processed your question. “Now that I’ve seen what?”

You stare at Poe because how could he not have seen it? Without a word you grab his data pad, open the file from his unread messages, and pass it to Poe. Worry is written across his face. The second he realizes what he is looking at, he slams his eyes shut.

“Why would I have seen that?”

He truly has no idea.

But the dam already broke. You’ve already made the leap. There is no going back now. 

Poe sets the screen aside to wrap an arm over your trembling shoulders and draw you against his chest. You let him only because you are too emotionally drained to push away the one person who might bring you comfort, even if that is the same person with the power to bring terrible pain.

He is struggling to put the pieces together on his own, not because he’s stupid but because the truth is painful to accept.

“Talk to me.” Poe presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and your arms wrap around his waist to hold him tight. “Please, talk to me.”

You curl yourself tighter and closer to Poe so you can bury your face in the crook of his shoulder. You can’t look at him; you can barely form words. Instead you blindly grope for the data pad and hand it back to Poe.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “If you don’t want me to-”

“Everyone already knows.”

You can picture the mess hall tomorrow morning. Poe eating breakfast, blissfully ignorant of your past when, ‘Hey, Dameron. Heard your girlfriend only fucks First Order officers. Sorry for your loss.’ More likely the words would be kinder, gentler, pitying the handsome pilot who had given up his playboy ways for someone like you. And he’d… Stop! You fight back ideas about this scenario that you simply would not let happen.

It is best that he learn about it in private. Then you can try to explain.

Poe’s brows knit together, but he doesn’t question your statement. He’ll figure out what ‘everyone already knows’ means later.

You feel his chest rise shakily underneath you as he steadies himself for whatever horrors are hidden here. With his free hand he absentmindedly trails feather-light touches along your cheek.

His eyes roam the file: your name, date of birth, a picture taken the day you first arrived. It’s all standard stuff. Regular check ups. Medical tests for your flight clearance. Post-mission blood work. You had been a spy, so you had more comprehensive medical records than most. Otherwise though, it’s a normal file. Until it’s not.

He never mentioned it to you, but he had suspicions that something like this might be in your past. It was a suspicion, however, that was easy to ignore. Poe hadn’t known you in your spy days, and like most former spies, you chose to keep your past in the past. Until now.

When he gets to that part, you feel his hand still. Poe’s whole body goes tense beneath you, the muscles of his neck tightening as he swallows hard. Each word makes his heart ache for the woman in his arms, for you who had been suffering through the aftermath of such horrors alone. 

A few soft taps fill the silence as Poe searches for an answer to his other question - how did ‘everyone’ know about this?

Then Poe hisses aloud, “Fucking bitch.”

He is looking at the name of the sender.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his neck and choke down a sob.

“No, baby. Not you.” In an instant he has your head cradled in his hands, thumbing away your tears, bringing your reluctant gaze up to him as he realizes his mistake. “You have nothing to be sorry for. She should never have done this. No decent person would do this.”

“I should have told you before.” You try to protest, but Poe just shakes his head. His face is inches from yours, and his dark brown eyes implore you to believe him.

“You don’t owe me - or anyone else - an explanation.” His words are firm but kind. 

Another few moments pass in a heavy silence. Poe holds your face between his hands, supporting the weight of your head that suddenly feels too heavy for you to hold up yourself. The callouses on his thumbs are rough against your skin. They are the only thing that feels real right now.

“I- I-” Just say it, you think. Just say it. Tell him what the file doesn’t. “I wouldn’t give them any information.” There is a certain pride in your voice as you say those words. “When my cover was blown, they tortured me, and I was strong. I was so strong.” Your voice cracks on the last word making Poe swallow hard. Your words sound like you are reading from a book rather than recounting your memories. “They thought they could try a new way to break me. It didn’t work. Eventually they weren’t even looking for information anymore. It was just fun for them. So I used that. I got close to the right people, and when they let their guard down I escaped.”

Your whole body is shaking as memories drown any rational thoughts you had left.

“I did it to survive." You meet his gaze and hold it desperately. “I did it to survive. It wasn’t fun. Poe, you have to believe me, I did what I had to. Please! Please, Poe. Please.”

“Of course I believe you.” His voice is a calm low rumble, and he repeats the words with even more conviction. “ I believe you. Come here.”

He wraps his large hand around the back of your neck, his fingers splayed wide across your skin as he pulls you into what you will later call the best hug of your life. Your head tucks under his chin. His other hand comes around your waist to hold you close.

The second he has you secure against him, he lets his own tears spill over. He didn’t want you to see him crying, knowing one of you had to maintain a calm facade through this. You deserved the entire galaxy, and what you had gotten was a slimy alley on some shit planet. He wanted to pull down the stars and bath you in their light. He wanted to kill the people who had done this to you. He wanted revenge on the woman who had made your trauma part of some sick game to get him back. Only his faith in Rose, Rey, and Finn kept him from hunting her down right now. He was certain they had dealt with her, and you needed him here.

“I love you,” he whispers the words. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

He really isn’t angry with you. The realization comes slowly then all at once. It brings with it a bit of embarrassment at your earlier actions. Before that thought can really settle, the exhaustion hits. Exhaustion from spending hours crying and worrying until your nerves were so shot you could hardly think straight.

Poe feels your body relax. Your breath has fallen into steady and slow inhales and exhales. He slides down in the bed, bringing you with his so you can curl against his chest with your head on his shoulder. You look up at him.

“Please don’t cry,” you murmur and wipe a tear from his cheek.

He grasps that hand in his, playing with your fingers. There’s a few light bruises along your knuckles that his touch lingers on like a question.

“I punched her. In the mess, during lunch.”

“Good.”

Poe raises your bruised knuckles to his soft lips and kisses each one reverently.

“I’m with you,” he breathes between kisses. “Whatever people say or believe.” Another kiss. “You’ll always have me. Promise. You’ll always have me.”

--

My Masterlist

I am contemplating a part 2 (if I can write it tastefully) where the reader and Poe do have sex for the first time.

Tags: @ay0nha​ 

[hastyprovocateur]

TW:- depictions of blood, mentions of rape, suicide, abuse, humiliation in this post

Someone in my comments asked why Minho is dearly loved while he's also said to be a misogynist with a big ego. It wasn't addressed to me but it inspired me to write this:-Minho is supposed to be the antagonist, someone we're supposed to hate in a manhwa about a strong, goal-driven woman. I too, was expecting to do the same for his character but I came at such a roadblock. I noticed that author wrote him in a very peculiar manner wherein he's very arrogant, bitchy and critical but also poor, lonely, insecure and inexperienced. So instead of seeing him as a character who is mean by choice, you understand why he behaves this way. He is constantly bullied for his penis size (something the author strongly insisted is small), erectile dysfunction (which goes away when he's being raped), his poverty, low paying job, money-strapped ways, sexual inexperience (he's a virgin until he's raped by the fl), he is also shamed for his alleged tendency of being a masochist even though he's "tall and muscular". Not to mention he doesn't have one genuine, consensual sex scene in the manhwa, each one has the element of force and the worst scenes show him peeing, puking, crawling, feeling suicidal, getting beaten, pierced, locked up with his bones broken. Therefore, even though he's unbearable with his meanness, you understand his side of the story, feel sickened by how he's being treated and wonder how he'd be if he was actually seen as a human being rather than a piece of good-looking fetish flesh by the author.

Another thing to break down is how, despite his struggles and trauma (something author glosses over lest we feel worse for him than we already do), he's still not a rapist, abuser or someone who exploits his position for power be it in sex or at work. He is also shown to be a good writer, something the mc looks up to him for and his writing was even shortlisted for the creative writing competition back in university. Although he is shown to talk in a very misogynistic manner, he is very respectful towards D* and doesn't ever exploit or violate her like Wookyung was trying to do (yet he's shown to be the better guy and friend to the mc, who talks and looks nice but is ultimately an opportunistic rapist if you boil it down). Minho's criticisms about D*s work (that he made in the short period they were dating, 10 years ago) are never contested, meaning that he's not wrong but is just too mean when he voices them. Aside from that, after D* cheated on Minho with Wookyung, he was willing to talk about it, he approached her first but she was extremely dismissive. Even after their bitter break up and after D* dropped out of college, he stayed to complete his major, worked his part-time jobs, didn't harass or stalk her (while D* learnt to vent her anger out by thinking of raping and choking him all the time), he was working hard as an instructor, was well-liked by his students and was a valuable employee to the Dean (where it's canonically mentioned that Minho tutored his children and organised many of his family functions, things he never got credit for).

Minho's misogyny is also addressed towards the end of the manhwa where he confesses that he doesn't really think less of women or their work but is actually deeply insecure about his own shortcomings hence he feels the need to pick on others. Yes, this makes him a very bad person. You shouldn't ever bully, criticise or be mean to someone just because you feel insecure about yourself but in the context of the manhwa, every character alongside him was just as (mostly more than), messed up than him. We as readers, are made to see the flaws of each of these characters in a non-negative light. Wookyung is shown to be the clever, calculating, rich sadist who is still helpful, has a big dick, is good in bed and is on extremely friendly terms with the mc (so friendly that she comfortably had sex with him after she found out that he had raped her ex) he doesn't suffer any consequences of his actions and author really likes him by the way he is described and his actions are encouraged. Haesol too, is shown to be very submissive and someone who simps blindly with no personal opinion to offer to the world, so much so that he joins the mc in raping her ex in later chapters and he ends up swearing a lifetime of cooking and cleaning to her (this is shown in a positive and ideal manner by the author, as if this behaviour is desirable and required in a partner). In a similar way, D* has always been impulsive, aggressive, careless, sex-driven, avoidant and also someone who regularly overlooks consent and aftercare for her own pleasures and always goes overboard in her non-consensual abuse but she is still a "BDSM queen", according to the author, someone who deserves a good future, where she "wishes her well", she also suffers no repercussions for raping a man relentlessly despite stating in some previous chapters how it's important that they (the subs) should like it too.

To end with, that's why... when we got an arrogant, sassy, misogynistic man among a set or rapists, simps and criminals, whose worst crimes are stealing and being judgemental (there are others like slapping the mc, or beating up the other ML but like... how does he only do that once in the story when he is to be subject to 3-4 long drawn out chapters of "punishment" via rape and humiliation right after?), we awaited his growth arc as is typical to any love triangle romance drama character. Instead, we got, and are still getting, chapters upon chapters of him getting more and more violated in the ugliest of ways. And neither of it is recognised as rape, abuse, suicide and violence by the author. That's what sickens me. She has every right to write whatever she wants but she has no right to sell me a romance story that has all this in it without any prior warnings. I'd have nothing to say if author understood the impact of what she wrote but she doesn't and mass classifies this horror under "mature romance", Byun Minho being the worst scapegoat of a twisted mind I've ever seen.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Do You Trust Me?

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Reader

Summary: When Lenora finds out she’s pregnant and another girl turns up pregnant and murdered, Arvin and Y/N take matters into their own hands. 

Warnings: Violence, Murder, Sexual Assualt, Teen Pregnancy, Cursing, Mentions of Rape, Bullying, Dark Religious Themes, Talk of Abortion  DO NOT READ IF THESE BOTHER YOU (Very similar things to the movie)

Word Count: 7000

A/N: So Lenora doesn’t die in this but that part is instead replaced by the Reaster girl being found dead (I named her Jeanette... I didn’t remember if they gave her a first name)

A/N 2: I know I’m writing characters that exist already but like I feel like I’m going to Hell for writing this. Any other Christians feel that way about liking the movie?

___________________________________

Secrets were hard to keep in such a small town as Coal Creek. Everyone knew everyone and if one person saw something, the whole town knew about it by next morning. That’s why Lenora had kept her secrets with Reverend Teagarden from all except you. Other than Arvin, you were her only friend in the world. It felt nice to have another girl to talk to because as much as she loved her brother, it was nothing like having a sister. Though you weren’t related, just friends from school, it was the closest thing she had. 

The two of you had bonded over the harassment from boys at school. Unlike Lenora, you had no problem dishing back threats and abuse. You were more like Arvin in that sense, not always terrified that the Lord was going to smite you for defending yourself. You and Arvin were close too because of it. 

The day you two met, he’d gone to pick Lenora up from school one day to find the two of you cornered out back by Dinwoodie and his boys. They called Lenora ugly, as per their daily routine, and said they wouldn’t fuck her with a bag on a her head. Tommy Matheson had a paper bag held over her face, holding her down while she squirmed. 

“There ain’t nothing alive that would willingly let you touch them, Dinwoodie!” You spat while Orville Buckman held you back, his arms wrapped around your body, keeping your arms . pinned to your side, “You’re a vile thing. Hell, I’m sure a dead pig wouldn’t let you fuck it.” 

Dinwoodie spun around and blew a hard smack across your face, “Lenora here ain’t much different than that. But you on the other hand, I’d take you whether you wanted it or not. I like a girl with a dirty mouth. And lucky you, I won’t make you wear the bag.” 

He fisted your hair and pulled your face close to him, trying to force a kiss from you but spat in his face, a massive drip of saliva landing in his eyes and smaller particles spewed across his lips. “You nasty bi-” Gene Dinwoodie reared back, ready to hit you again when suddenly Arvin came out of nowhere, sending a solid blow straight into Gene’s face, sending him flying to the ground with a crack. 

Orville let you go to go after Arvin and Tommy did the same to Lenora. You ran over to her and pulled the bag from her head, seeing evidence of her silent tears all over her face. Once you saw she was okay though, you ran over to help Arvin, who had found himself dragged to the ground by the three boys. Lenora got up too, screaming for them to stop. 

“Stop!” You yelled, pulling at Gene’s arms to try and get him to stop kicking Arvin. He shoved you back harshly by the chest but you caught yourself, returning with a sharp blow to his face with your locked fist. 

The enraged boy smacked you even harder than before, sending your ass to the ground with thud that you knew would leave a bruise. Your hands and knees got skinned up as you skid slightly on the pavement. Lenora kept pulling on the boys too, begging them to stop but to no avail. 

“Ha, sister fucker!” The three of them called out to Arvin before leaving the three of you alone. 

“Are you okay?” You asked the boy that you hadn’t met before, who was curled up in a ball on the ground and holding his stomach. He groaned in response, trying to push himself up but requiring your assistance. “Thank you for what you did back there. I’m sorry this happened.” 

He stretched, flinching at the slight movement. He sent a small nod towards you but then turned towards Lenora, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, Lenora.” Words couldn’t describe the guilt he felt for allowing this to happen. 

“It-it’s okay, Arvin. It wasn’t that bad this time. Y/N here took the brunt of it, unfortunately.” Lenora turned to you, “‘M sorry about that, by the way. You didn’t need to step in for me.” 

You had stood up about the same time Arvin did, brushing as much of the dirt off your bleeding and scraped up knees as you could without flinching, “Those guys are ass holes, Lenora. I did need to.” 

Lenora piped up, “Oh, um, Y/N, this is my brother Arvin. Arvin, this is Y/N. She just moved here.” 

“It’s nice to meet ya.” You greeted the boy with a pained smile, your face hurting from the blows you’d just taken. 

Arvin nodded, “You too.” He paused for a moment, “Can I give you a ride home? I don’t need them boys catching up with you again on the ride home. Besides, your face is getting mighty red. I might have something back at my house to keep it from bruising up too bad.” 

You looked over at Lenora, sending her a questioning look, like asking if you could trust this boy who had just come to your rescue, which may have seemed like an odd inquiry to have since he just tried to take on the guys harassing you, but your encounters with boys in this town hadn’t gone all too well thus far. The girl looked unfazed though with almost a hint of excitement that you could possibly be going to her home. 

“Um, yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.” You tucked a messy strand of hair behind your ear before looking back up at Arvin to see that he was already staring at you. 

That was months ago. You’d gotten settled into Coal Creek by now and the abuse from Dinwoodie had stopped entirely after Arvin had gone full vigilante to beat the shit out of them all. Speaking of Arvin, the day he saved you and Lenora, he asked you on a date and the pair of you had been going steady ever since. If there was ever a couple to not be fucked with, the town had learned it was you two. 

This weekend, you’d gone over to the Russel’s home for supper at their Grandma’s invitation. It was delicious, as usual, as that woman had the God-given ability to produce miracles in that kitchen. As you all finished up, Uncle Earskell asked Arvin to help with something upstairs so he left without a second thought to help his kin. 

Lenora had been looking at you funny all night, as if trying to catch your eye. After helping Grandma (which she insisted you call her as well) clean up supper, Lenora pulled you off to the side, “Y/N, let’s go on a walk. I need to tell you something.” 

The weight in her eyes told you how serious this was so you just nodded, “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” 

She grabbed a lantern on her way out the door and towards the barn. It was already dark, despite only being seven in the evening. Lenora led you out there and then closed the door before sitting on the hay. “So what is it?” You asked nervously. Normally, you would have made a joke but something told you that this wasn’t a joking matter. Anxiety buzzed all around her. 

“Y’know the new pastor? Preston Teagarden?” Lenora began, wringing her hands together and beginning to hide under her long red hair. 

You nodded, the question having an obvious answer as everyone, including your God fearing Mama and Aunt, went to church every Sunday. “What about ‘im?” 

“Well… um… y’see. We… we had sex.” She whispered the last word like it was the dirtiest thing she could fathom saying. 

Your eyes blew wide and your mouth dropped open, “You what?” You whispered back in shock. 

“Shh!” She held her finger up to her lips, “He said that to bear yourself as God made his first children was to truly turn yourself to Him.” 

You were having a difficult time processing this new information. Arvin and you had both agreed that there was something off about that new preacher since the first day you met him but you wouldn’t have guessed it was anything like this. “Lenora, that makes no sense. God sees everything. He’s already seen you in your birthday suit. He doesn’t need the preacher to see it too.” 

Part of you felt bad for the way you were reacting, especially when you saw the way your best friend shrunk back a little in embarrassment. Clearly, he’d manipulated her into getting what he wanted, using her faith as a weapon for her sexual exploitation, but of course she didn’t see it like that because his words were specifically tailored to get her to believe him. Now as you said these things, though, it was becoming clearer to Lenora that she had been manipulated. 

“That’s not all…” She continued. 

You held her arm gently, “What is it?” 

Her eyes got wide with fear, “You can’t tell anyone okay? You gotta promise.” Her hand covered yours, gripping tightly to ensure that you grasped the severity of the situation. 

You swallowed hard, honestly scared by her reactions to whatever was happening. This wasn’t like sweet, simple, calm Lenora. Nonetheless, you nodded, “I promise.” 

“I think I’m pregnant.” 

You actually choked, “What? Are you sure?” This was bad. This was so bad. 

Her eyes began to well up with guilty tears, “Yeah, I am. I was pretty sick a few weeks back. Couldn’t eat nothin’ cause I kept throwin’ up. And I haven’t had that time of the month in  two months.” 

“Two months, Lenora? Shit…” You whispered, leaning back against the hay. Even before moving to Coal Creek, you came from a small town in Pennsylvania where this had happened to a few girls. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon in that particular town. Your daddy had been a doctor before he died so you’d seen more than a few cases of teenage pregnancy. For Lenora, though, this was practically unheard of. Good Christian girls don’t have babies before marriage. “Did you tell ‘im?” 

Lenora’s breath shook, “Yeah ‘nd he said I was crazy and delusional. Just imaginin’ things. Said we never did nothin’ in the car. Then he said that I had to get rid of the baby or I’d be branded as the town whore with a bastard son. Even said it’d kill Grandma from the shame of it all if anyone found out.” 

“That is not true, Lenora. None of it. You’re not a whore and it would be best for everyone if that baby inside you was a bastard. That disgusting man isn’t fit to walk the Earth we live on, let alone be a father.” It felt like the blood was rushing through your veins with full force, internally panicking about the situation. This was a big deal and, unfortunately, you weren’t sure if Lenora was emotionally capable enough to handle it alone. She’d always been quiet and lonely and an easy target for cruel people. “Are you keepin’ it?” 

Her breathing shuddered as if she’d started crying, “I can’t kill the baby inside me and go on livin’ with that. But I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared,Y/N.” Lenora threw her arms around you and you held her as her body rattled against yours. 

“Shh, you got me, alright? Me and Arvin. And I’m sure Grandma wouldn’t be ashamed if she knew what Teagarden did to you.” You insisted but she shook her head. 

“You must think I’m stupid for believin’ that man.” She sat up wiping her eyes with her sleeve. 

“No! I do not think you’re stupid at all. That monster took advantage of you, told you things to make you believe that his dirty, lustful thoughts were vindicated by the Lord. And he’s going to fucking pay.” You were furious now as you began to stand up, unsure of exactly what you’d do but you knew you were gonna do it. 

Lenora grabbed your arm and pulled you back down, “No! Wait! Please-” 

“What’s going on here?” Arvin opened the door with a concerned face. 

Both you and Lenora jumped at his sudden intrusion but were even more nervous about what he’d heard. 

“How much did you hear?” Lenora asked her brother, rubbing her hands on her thighs. 

He walked in and slammed the door shut behind him, kneeling down in front of you and his sister, “That someone took advantage of you and Y/N was gonna make ‘im pay. Now what happened? What’s going on?” 

This was one of the things that you’d always loved about Arvin. He had this protective nature over what he loved, ready to do anything to keep his loved ones safe, whether that was his sister, his girlfriend, or his grandmother. His brown eyes held so much sincerity and understanding for his younger sister but also fear for what had been done to her. 

When she didn’t respond right away, Arvin looked over to you with questioning desperate eyes but you chewed your lip, knowing that it wasn’t your secret to tell. Instead, you looked back over to Lenora sadly and nudged her slightly. 

“C-can you say? Please? I don’t wanna say it again.” Lenora begged you quietly, avoiding eye contact with Arvin. Though you could never truly know she felt, you tried to understand all the emotions that must have been running through her. 

Arvin met your eyes, begging you to tell him what had happened. “She’s pregnant. It’s that Reverend Teagarden’s baby. Said that he told her that the only way to get close to God was to show him her in the form of Adam and Eve. But now he’s saying that she’s delusional and that it’s not his.” 

Arvin’s temper flamed inside his chest. That explained the Reverend’s intense sermon about delusion this last Sunday. Nobody did this to his sister and got away with it. “I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking ki-” 

“Arvin please-” Lenora tried to calm him but it was a weak attempt, still trying to stay quiet so Grandma wouldn’t notice.

“No, I’ll end his life for what he did to you.” 

You watched your boyfriend reel around, hands holding onto his hat. He was livid, understandably so. 

Lenora wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to protect Preston Teagarden after what he’d done to her but she thinks it’s that she was more concerned for her brother. Besides, no matter what Teagarden had done, did he really deserve to die for it? 

“We don’t have to hurt him,” You spoke to your boyfriend, “If she wants, she can just have the baby and we’ll help raise it.” 

“But he said it’s not his and that I’ll just be considered some no-good whore. He said it’ll kill Grandma. I don’t want to kill Grandma.” She was almost crying again at the thought of their grandmother ending up six feet under because of the shame of having her as a granddaughter. 

“He said that?!” Arvin nearly yelled. 

“But what if he’s right?” Lenora thought out loud, “I couldn’t live with myself if I got rid of the baby but I can’t risk killing Grandma. Maybe it would be better if I were dead-” 

“No!” You and Arvin both said firmly in unison. You held her hand tight and Arvin knelt down again. 

He swiped his thumb comfortingly across the back of her hands, “Don’t you ever say that. We have both already lost too damn much to lose each other too, ya hear me?” 

Lenora nodded, tears falling down her cheeks when she closed her eyes. 

“Why can’t we just ruin him? You can have the baby and let everyone know what he did. Everyone will know that he’s the father and it’ll destroy his life.” Arvin suggested, all of the miserable ways this could end for the man twisting his heart in sadistic pleasure. 

You shook your head though, “No, they won’t. It’s different for girls in small towns like this. Doesn’t matter what happened, you’re still the dirty no good whore, even if you were raped. The man is treated like a victim for even having the inkling of an accusation brought up.” After a few minutes, you suggested, “Why don’t we run off. We’ll all go to a new town, somewhere where nobody knows none of us. We’ll tell ‘em that your husband died in the war, leaving you with the baby. I’ll go with. I’ll help you raise it.” 

She shook her head, “But what about Grandma and Uncle Earskell?” She did have a point. They were both getting on in age and would need more help than they already did. 

You all sat in silence for a few moments, brainstorming ideas of what to do. Eventually, Arvin looked at his sister, “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

The three of you went back to the house for the rest of the night, knowing that everyone would be getting suspicious if you were out any longer. 

The three of you kept the secret quiet, barely even speaking about it to each other. You’d been doing as much research on babies in the libraries at school, which earned you quite a few disapproving looks from people who assumed that you and Arvin were expecting. You were serious when you said that you had every intention of helping Lenora and so was Arvin. 

Weeks had gone by with relatively no news. Well, that’s what the town thought at least. After finding out about what the Reverend had done to Lenora, Arvin had told you about his plan to watch him. 

The pair of you had spent several afternoons staked out near the church, watching as he went to the place of worship and then left at night. But then you started noticing a frequent visitor. Jeanette Reaster. The pair would drive off to a little secluded field and, sure enough, Teagarden would have his way with her. Though you couldn’t hear what was said, it was clear that they’d been praying beforehand before she submitted to him fully. Now, you knew Jeanette Reaster and, much like Lenora, she was the last person you’d imagine having premarital sex for the fear of being struck down by God. Whatever this man had said to them must have been real convincing. 

“Piece of shit…” Arvin leaned forward against the steering wheel of his car while you sat beside him. You both watched on as the Reverend laid the girl down and began his assault of falsely “holy” acts. 

For respect of Jeanette, you both looked away during the actual act but when you saw her ride off, Teagarden got out of his car, a bunch of fabric in his hands and sniffed them as he watched her. “That fucking perv. How does nobody know about this?” You asked, disgusted. Reaster was a good girl. She didn’t deserve this abuse. 

“We know about it.” Arvin said, putting the car in reverse, “And that’s enough.” Less than a week later, word got out that Jeanette Reaster had run off. Grandma had told Arvin and Lenora that her mother had said to her privately that Jeanette left a note saying that she was pregnant but the father refused to believe that he was the father. To spare her family the shame, she ran away and begged them to just say that they had no idea what had happened to her. That’s what her parents intended to do for their daughter’s sake but had entrusted Grandma with the secret just so they had somebody to talk to about it.

The day after she disappeared, they found her body on the side of the road just a few towns over. Nobody had any idea of what had happened except for you and Arvin. Both of you were convinced that Teagarden had murdered her to keep his secret from getting out. 

The anger that was held between you and Arvin both was unparalleled. In part, you both felt partially responsible for her death. If only you’d said something, maybe you could have saved her. But neither of you even knew she was pregnant. That monster did to her exactly what he had probably planned to do to Lenora. 

“We have to set things right.” Arvin said, sitting in his car one night with you in the woods, “That girl is dead and I can’t help but feel like it’s on me.” His head hung sadly, the weight of another death weighing on his heart. 

You shifted sideways in the seat, your jeans rubbing against the vinyl car seats. You placed a hand gingerly on his cheek, “This is not your fault. This is the evil of a wicked man.” 

“A girl is dead, Y/N. He got her pregnant and murdered her. He got Lenora pregnant and tried to convince her she was crazy. He’s taking advantage of innocent girls out here and then tying up the loose ends.” Arvin sat there, so much hurt behind his brown eyes. Then an idea dawned on him, “Do you trust me?” 

The question took you off guard and it showed but you answered honestly, “Yes.” 

** 

Perhaps being quieter in church was for the best for this particular scenario. You’d never been as religious as the rest of your family or the rest of the town, for that matter. But this morning, you found yourself on your knees by your bedside. “Lord, please forgive the things that I am about to do. Please understand that I do this with the best intentions of protecting every other girl to cross paths with Preston Teagarden and to avenge the death of Jeanette Reaster. I pray that you please forgive Arvin as well as I know he is a man with nothing but good and love in his heart. In Jesus’ holy name, amen.” 

Almost on cue, your mom knocked on the door to see you on your knees, “Arvin is out front waiting for you.” She announced with a warm smile, noticing your outfit, “You look nice, sweetie! Since when do you clean up all cute for that boy?” She teased, a loving smile on her face as you smoothed out your yellow dress that hung just below your knees. The sleeves were tight and went about halfway down your biceps. It was far from revealing with a neckline that stopped just below your collarbones but it still was tight enough to accentuate the shape of your concealed breasts. A brown belt was tied around your waist, showing off your figure. 

“Yeah, well I figured that for once I might as well dress up and do something nice.” The lie slipped out smoothly despite the racing of your heart in your chest. 

She pulled you in for a hug, “Well you tell Arvin that I want you back by nine tonight! I’ll be going over to Mrs. Hadderson’s for quilting today, just so you know, in case I’m not home when you get back.” 

You picked up your bag and pulled her into a side hug, “Alright, Mama. Love you!” You hollered, running out the door. Arvin was dressed normally, just his blue jeans and t-shirt, but he still looked great as always. 

When you slid into the passenger seat of his car, he perked up and looked over at you, “Not used to seeing you like this on any day but Sunday.” He attempted to joke but found it difficult considering what the two of you were planning on doing. 

After driving a ways down the road, he asked, “Are you sure you want to be a part of this? Because I can drop you off with Lenora and I’ll take care of this myself.” 

Looking over at him to see his eyes scanning your face for signs of hesitation, you placed your hand on his leg, “I’m not letting you do this alone.” 

Not too deep down, Arvin felt terrible for allowing you to partake in this. Death had always seemed to follow him wherever he went; he didn’t want you to be stuck with the same curse. The two of you developed a plan but Arvin had created a backup just in case you decided you didn’t want to partake, not that he would blame you. He was terrified beyond belief himself but he’d decided that for the sake of every other girl in this town and any other one’s Teagarden had harmed in the past, he had to do this. 

The only thing making him feel remotely at peace with your involvement was the fact that you weren’t actually doing the killing. You were the diversion, he was the trigger man. Arvin sighed, relenting to the fact that you were in on this, “Did you bring the rope?” He asked, eyes flicking over to you and your bag between glances at the road that moved beneath the wheels of his car. 

You dug around in your little bag and pulled out a small length of rope, a weapon chosen for the lack of clean up. “Got it. You got the gun?” 

Arvin pulled his denim jacket back just enough to show the handle of the Luger that once belonged to his father. This weapon was chosen for its reliability. Once you guys started, you had to finish otherwise he’d tell everyone. 

Before you knew it, the tires were coming to a crunching halt on the rocky sideturn just around the corner from the church. A sudden wave of nausea came over you and you had to breathe deeply to settle it down. “You okay?” Arvin asked, reaching out for you. 

You swallowed hard, “Yeah.” Sweat began to bead up on your brow as a million different images of what could happen in the next few minutes ran through your head. 

Arvin watched as you zoned out on the dashboard and he knew exactly what was going on in your mind. It was the same inner conflict he’d had this morning before picking you up, when he first pocketed the gun.  “Whatever happens today, I need you to know that I love you Y/N.” 

You sucked a quick breath in. Neither of you had ever used the L-word before. Arvin was scared to because he’d lost so many people and the fewer people he loved, that fewer people he could lose. You had just never loved anyone romantically before and were too terrified that maybe you’d say it too early or think you felt it when you really didn’t. With Arvin, though, you knew it. “I love you too, Arvin.” You leaned forward and kissed him on the lips deeply, wanting nothing more than to stay against his skin for the rest of your lives. But, unfortunately, there was something you had to do first. 

“Remember, just get him to bring you to the field. I will be there waiting. I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear?” Your faces were close together, so close your foreheads almost touched, as he went over the plan one last time, trying to make sure that you knew that you were safe as long as he was around. 

“I know.” You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though it was far from a grin of actual happiness.

Arvin watched as you got out of the car, leaving the small bundle of rope behind, and walked down the dirt driveway to the church. You looked just like someone that pervert would fall head over heels for. There was an innocent sway to your hips and the way you held your bag close to your body screamed insecurity, but the kind of a young girl who doesn’t know how beautiful she is. The funny thing was that this wasn’t something totally out of character for you. Sure, you had a mouth and fist that could dish as much as it could take, and yeah, you and Arvin had been together for almost half a year, but there was still a youthful innocence to you. There was still a brightness in your eyes and a pep in your step, one that hadn’t been beat down by the tragedies of life yet. It was one of the things that Arvin found most attractive about you but it was also one of the things that Preston Teagard would as well. 

The doors of the church were cracked open just slightly when you approached and you could see the Reverend sitting in the pews, reading his Bible, through the gap. Taking one less final deep breath, you pressed the door open and stepped in, the heels of your little white chucks padding against the hardwood. Teagard turned around at the sound, “Why, hello, there.” He greeted warmly. It disgusted you how this man could act no different after knowing what he’d just done but the worst monsters were human. 

“Uh, hi there, Reverend. I’m sorry to bother but I just needed to talk to you about something.” You began, accentuated your Appalachian drawl while trying to make your voice sound as young and innocent as you could. 

He patted the pew beside him, “Well, my child, you’ve come to the right place. That’s what I’m here for. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” 

Skin crawling as you walked, you forced your feet to move towards the man and sit beside him. Right away, his arm stretched behind your shoulders as he sat uncomfortably close. At first, you avoided eye contact, “Well, um, you see, I’ve been… straying from the light and I really want to get right with God.” 

This had to be the first truth you’d told anyone other than Arvin today. You felt too terrible lying in the presence of God so you’d found a way to genuinely get your feelings off your chest while still luring Teagarden into your trap. 

He rubbed his chin and hummed, “The fact that you acknowledge this means you haven’t strayed too far. God always comes back to his flock, even to those little sheepies who’ve gone astray. Why don’t you tell me more.” He urged. 

Your hands squeezed the strap of your bag tightly, “I… I have lustful thoughts sometimes.” 

Preston was lucky he’d had a lot of practice concealing his emotions because he’d be lying if he said that those words didn’t stir something in him, “Now are these just thoughts or have you acted on them?” 

“Oh, just thoughts, Reverend. I’ve never acted on any of them.” You reassured, finally meeting his eyes. They seemed to look at you with such understanding that you could see why Lenora and Jeanette had fallen for him. 

He nodded in approval, “And who are these thoughts about?” 

This was where you’d have to do a bit more lying, “I don’t really want to say.” You blushed bright red. You knew that Preston must have taken this as a sign that it was about him but it wasn’t. Your dirty thoughts never strayed from Arvin. 

Preston looked away and then back down at you, “You’re going with that Russel boy, right?” 

Silently, you nodded, not wanting to incriminate your boyfriend too much in this process of confession. 

“Has he ever touched you?” Preston pressed, his body getting closer to yours inch by inch until your legs were nearly touching. 

The red in your cheeks wasn’t part of the act anymore but genuine. You shook your head, “No, never.” You felt almost panicked at the question. 

“Have you ever touched yourself to these thoughts?” His voice became slower, more cautious as his inquiries got riskier and riskier. 

You found yourself unable to maintain eye contact with him anymore and looked back down at your shoes instead, just shaking your head, “No, I feel too weird. Like it’s a violation or somethin’.” 

Preston looked away, as if considering something, before turning back to you, “Can I show you some place? I find it helps me feel closer to God when I feel like I’m goin’ astray. Perhaps I could help.” 

Hook and sink. He’d fallen right into the trap. With a shy nod, you agreed sweetly, “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that. Is it far?” 

Teagard shook his head, “Oh no, not too far at all. But I’ll drive so we don’t have to walk.” 

Getting him to drive you to the spot was just as easy as you imagined it would be. With a quick glance in the rear view mirror, you noticed a car in the far distance behind you that you immediately recognized as Arvin following. Preston’s car came to a stop in the same field you’d seen him take Jeanette Reaster to a few weeks ago, facing the woods ahead. 

It really was quite peaceful and would have been a pretty sight if you weren’t with a sexual predator. Again, his arm slid around your shoulders and you breathed in deeply, the intense sexual tension making you uncomfortable even though you had every intention of finishing him off before he even got a hand up your skirt. 

“You said that Russel boy has never touched you. Have you ever shown him yourself?” The fact that this man had the nerve to ask you such questions disgusted you beyond belief but you kept up the facade. 

“Like naked?” You clarified, seeing him nod, “No, not naked. We went to the lake one time so he saw me in my bathing suit then but that’s not exactly the same thing.” 

Preston chuckled at your naivety, “No, no, not the same thing at all. You know how you’re supposed to save yourself for marriage to be right with the Lord. But there is nothing that brings you closer back to our heavenly father than to be as Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden, the garden of pure paradise.” 

“How is that so?” You cranked up the childlike inquisitive nature as you looked up at him with big doe eyes. 

Preston had to fight the urge to take you here and now, looking at you like this, but he remained strong for the sake of the process. “They were made in his image. We all were but they were his original children. The pure, unaltered image of God himself, before the sin of man tainted it all. By showing yourself in your pure, unaltered image, you bring yourself closer to the light.” 

Your brows furrowed, “But didn’t you just say that premarital sex is a sin?” This may have been jeopardizing your mission but you felt inclined to point out the hypocrisy before you offed the man. 

He nodded, chest falling and rising with a heavy sigh, “It depends on who you’re with. I’m a man of God myself and I like to model myself after Jesus. I’d like to think that makes me an extension of His love and power and therefore an outlet for you to feel safe to do whatever you need to do in order to be right with Him.” 

With a shaky breath, you bit your lip, “Alright. H-how do I-?”

Preston watched as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt and let his mind wander to what else those fingers might be good at. “First, let us pray.” He reached over and held your hand, “Lord, Y/N is showing herself to you. See her Lord, as you made her. She presents herself to you. Give her strength. Amen.” 

“Amen.” You muttered after him, your fingers slowly going to unbutton your dress. This wasn’t how you’d imagined the first time a boy seeing you in your knickers going. In your mind, it had always been on a nice romantic evening with Arvin and a selfish part of you wanted it to stay that way but then you remembered why you were doing what you were doing and sucked down the reservations. At least you weren’t actually losing your virginity to the monster. 

Nervous fingers fuddled with the button for just a moment too long and Teagarden twisted sideways, hands coming to cover yours, “May I?” He offered his assistance. 

Your heart thumped so loud you could hear it but you nodded silently, letting your fingers fall onto your thighs. With deftly skilled fingers, he had your blouse unbuttoned before long and had pushed it off your shoulders. Your breath caught in your throat at this much exposure, your breasts just barely concealed under only the fabric of your bra. Lord, you prayed silently, please let this be over with quickly. 

Your eyes slid closed, trying to imagine that it was Arvin touching you instead of Preston Teagarden but then the mere thought of comparing the two made you sick to your stomach. They were nothing alike. 

A set of chapped lips kissed your forehead gently, then your cheek, and then, finally, your lips. At first, you drew back, but still kept your eyes closed, trying to mask the disgust with untouched hesitance. You forced your body to relax again and Preston took that as a cue to continue with what he was doing, his lips returning to yours. 

Wasting no time, he’d crawled over you until your back was flush against the seat. You placed your hands awkwardly and haphazardly on Preston’s shoulder’s, trying to feign inexperienced confusion. You and Arvin may not have ever gone all the way, but you’d at least gone this far. 

Preston’s lips moved down your neck and your breath got caught in your throat. As much as you hated it, he knew what he was doing. This man knew all the right buttons to push to make a nervous girl submit to his every desire and, though you were well aware of the game he was playing and had zero attraction to him, the physical reactions were almost impossible to stop. Your body shuddered when his stubble, something Arvin lacked, scratched the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes were open wide now, just waiting for your boyfriend to finally show up and save you from this situation. 

Arvin approached the car and slowly and quietly as he could. The windows were up so it wasn’t too big an issue as long as he wasn’t clanging metal but he figured he didn’t want to take any chances. When approached the driver’s window, his heart wrenched and he immediately regretted putting you in this position. 

Preston was on top of you, his hands roaming all around your semi-exposed chest. He knew that you’d never been exposed like that to anyone before and he suddenly felt sick with himself for allowing the first time to be with anyone beside him, let alone Preston fucking Teagard. 

He expected to have to psych himself up for the actual kill, to have to convince himself to do it but when you locked eyes with him, a silent plea to get the man off of you, it came unnervingly natural. With the rope already wrapped around both of his fists, Arvin reached for the handle and threw the door open, looping the rope around Preston’s neck and dragging him back out of the car. Preston’s eyes were wide with shock and fear, “What the fuck?!” He hollered in fear, the words turning to gagging and choking. His hands grasped at the rope but Arvin had it pulled too tightly. 

Preston’s body was kicking against the grass but his neck and head were pressed against Arvin’s chest, who was kneeling in the field. 

“You really thought you could get away with what you did to my Lenora? To that poor Reaster girl you murdered? And then I bet you were willing to do the same to her over there too, huh?” He seethed, notioning over to you with a flick of his chin. 

The reverend tried to say something, anything to defend himself or get himself out of this situation but Arvin never let up so the words came out as disgustingly graphic chokes. You crawled out of the car, not knowing what you could do to help or secure the situation but feeling useless now. 

In a few minutes time, his lips had turned blue and the thrashing of his body had stopped. Arvin finally let up and the body slump into the grass. He crawled back and away from the man who had only moments ago been all over you, touching you. 

That was when he remembered that you were there still. He’d gotten so blinded by rage that he almost blacked out, caught up in the task at hand. But when he looked up, his heart began to beat again and he stood up, rushing to you, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

Your face was pale and blank, almost as if you were in shock. Your top was still totally unbuttoned, white modest bra still exposed to the world but you didn’t look like you cared at all. If Arvin was being honest, this wasn’t how he’d pictured seeing you topless for the first time going. He always hoped it would be romantic and with more than enough time to compliment every inch of your perfect body. Instead, you looked scared and shocked and almost like you could be sick. 

“Y/N?” He urged, coming stand between you and Preston’s body, attempting to break your view of it. He reached down and began to re-button your blouse for you. 

“I’m fine,” You said flatly, only moving to look up at him, “Are you okay?” 

With a glance down at his knuckles, the rope burn was clear to see, but Arvin had been through much worse, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry that I let him do that. This whole idea was stupid and now-” 

“No,” You interrupted, finally snapping out of your shocked state and bringing your hands up to rest on his, which were on your chest now, “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.” 

Arvin didn’t actually feel remorse for killing the man. The only thing he wanted was to take you back home, or rather far away, where there weren’t any reminders of today’s events. He wanted to show you how special you were, how much he loved you, and how brave he thought you were for being willing to be Teagarden’s last victim for the better good of the world. 

[popanalysis99]

Toxic Men in TV Series who are the absolute worst.

(TW: R*pe and Sexual Assault)

While there are some men who seem to be interesting, let’s not deny the fact that there are most male characters who act like their “toxicity” is cool but honestly, it’s horrible and something not to root for. So here are the toxic male characters who are the absolute worst, excuse my misandry:

Kevin McRoberts - Kevin Can F**k Himself

We had to start somewhere from the bottom of the underworld. A recent entry on this list, Kevin is the lead character Allison’s husband who...let’s just say has the brain of a dumb frat bro who is extremely high on pot and hasn’t recovered since then. While most of the sitcoms in the past would portray these so-called goofy and dim-witted husbands as “big fun” and lovable, Kevin is not like that, at all. In this anti-sitcom nightmare, Kevin literally believes that the whole world revolves around him. He plans such stupid unrealistic schemes to seize the day, recklessly spends the savings on stupid irrelevant sports merchandises and doesn’t even let Allison have her own agency outside of his life. Plus he is so petty and spiteful to the point he destroys one good thing that any of the women in the series have, like Allison’s dream job and Patty’s love life. And that latter was because she didn’t bring him a burger! All of this makes him look less funny and more tyrannical. No wonder poor Allison got spurred into wanting to kill him.

Ross Geller - Friends

Ross may seemed like a “nice guy”, but let’s just agree it was a facade. Ross believes that he knows what’s best for the women he dates in the series and thinks he is superior and is always right about everything. He is seems extremely disturbed over the fact that his ex-wife, Carol is a lesbian and is jilted towards her current wife, Susan and snarks at the latter for it. And then there is her extreme control and jealousy towards Rachel, especially in her career. While Rachel is no saint either, Ross jumps to the conclusion that the man who got her a perfect job wants to sleep with her, then goes out of his way to humiliate and mark his territory on her and even if it’s revealed that the said guy has a girlfriend of his own, Ross still doesn’t abandon his theory, unless he believes that the guy is cheating on his girlfriend with Rachel. And then there is the fact that he joined his student girlfriend on a spring break just to have her all to himself, not caring about the fact that what if one of his students or colleagues would’ve seen him on TV with her and that could’ve put him in a huge scrutiny.

Joe Goldberg - You

The show is basically built around how toxic Joe is, but this didn’t stop him from having his own fanbase apparently, with most of them glossing over his actions. But Joe is not a dream boyfriend at all. Once he sees a woman in front of him, he immediately gets obsessed with her and believes she belongs to him and him only. And to achieve that, he stalks her, he checks everything about her, kills people he believes are harmful to her when he himself is the same and when the woman finds out about him and rejects him, he kidnaps and kills her and the cycle begins again.

Chuck Bass - Gossip Girl

What is it with the teen drama industry’s obsession with the “Bad Boy who can be redeemed with love” trope? Chuck Bass is “the bad boy” of Gossip Girl. If his attempted rape of Serena and Jenny didn’t give fans an indication that how deranged he is, his violent and emotional abuse of his girlfriend Blair cements him as this. He slut-shamed women around him, hit Blair once and even traded her for a hotel ownership and somehow he gets a happy ending with her at the end! What?

Nate Jacobs - Euphoria

Nate is a star quarterback of his high school football team and seems like he has it all, but underneath, he is fucking deranged. His untamed manly rage causes him to physically and emotionally abuse his girlfriend Maddy and blackmail Jules, who didn’t do anything wrong but just sleep with his father, which makes me think that Nate is blackmailing her into lying to the cops about his assault on Maddy when she wasn’t even there when it happened just because it’s fun for him. Honestly, I’d like to see the imagine Rue and Jules had of killing him become a reality someday.

Dawson Leery - Dawson’s Creek

Just because the show is named after him since he is the protagonist, doesn’t justify his actions. Dawson sees himself as some sort of a Nice Guy hero who believes he is entitled to everything. He has this extreme view on women and how they should fulfil his fantasies of his Rom-Com world. He is extremely critical of Jen when he finds out about her promiscuous past and tells her that she should be ashamed of herself for it, and gets jealous when his two best friends Joey and Pacey begin dating. And when he was briefly in the movie business, he was a rookie but was already a primadonna with the director and crew of the movie was working on and insulted a film critic for criticising his movie which was actually bad.

Kilgrave - Jessica Jones

Kilgrave is the main villain of the Marvel-Netflix series Jessica Jones. He becomes obsessed with the titular heroine when she breaks off from his mind-control. Before that, he spent years treating her as his sex slave and raping her constantly, which left her traumatised. He begins to stalker and believe it will be a “lover’s reunion” when he will see her again someday. He manipulates and brainwashes everyone around him to his whim and treats most women as objects but despite all that, sees himself as the good guy of the situation. Even after Jessica finally gives him his just desserts, he still haunts her everyday.

Fernando Vera - Mr. Robot

This spawn of satan is the reason why I decided to write this list in the first place. Where do I even start? He is first introduced into the series when he forces Shayla to go on a date with her and later rape her. This is what causes the misandrist vigilante Elliot to sell him out to the FBI and this apparently turns on Vera and moves his unhealthy obsession to Elliot. He has Shayla killed when he tricks Elliot into breaking him out of prison, then returns to have him all to himself by kidnapping his therapist Krista and forcing information out of her about Elliot so that he could “break him and build him back up”, like a fucked up version of The Taming Of The Shrew. He psychologically abuses Elliot into remembering being sexually abused by his father as a child and proceeds to gaslight him into thinking that he was just helping him. The huge problem with Vera is that he sees himself as some sort of Christian Grey who believes that his abuse towards both Shayla and Elliot is charming. Whenever someone failed his desires, he immediately gets bored of them and moves onto someone else, like when he got Shayla killed and moved onto Elliot. That’s why it felt so cathartic when Krista killed him.

Tate Langdon - American Horror Story

Apparently, he is Tate Langdon and he is...hot?? While most of the AHS fans glorified him due to his emo bad boy nature, let’s not forget the fact that he was a school shooter who murdered innocent students and staff and was in general possessive and toxic towards Violet. So no way he is boyfriend material!

Don Draper - Mad Men

Don Draper was the main protagonist of Mad Men. He was an advertisement and marketing executive who had a lot of vices and did a lot of horrible things such as cheat on his wife and treat almost every women and colleagues like crap.

Dexter Morgan - Dexter

While Dexter might seem like the serial-killer killer, there are a lot of things about him which are unadmirable. He gaslights those he is close to so that they could get off his back, obstructs evidence pointing out to him, captures those who didn’t even fit his victims like Doakes and caused the deaths of LaGuerta, Rita and finally his sister Debra. Yeah I think you should stay away from him.

Walter White - Breaking Bad

Aaah..the worst of the worst. Walter White is the protagonist of the series Breaking Bad. He first starts off as a pushover high school teacher who isn’t respected by anyone. When he gets diagnosed with Lung Cancer, he gets into the meth business so that he could support his family, but we all know that it’s not true. He relishes on the power and glory from being a drug dealer and then kingpin and because of that he ends up abusing both Jesse and Skyler, emotionally abusing and selling out the former to the sadistic Nazis and raping the latter several times. He is so petty and spiteful that he kills anyone insulting his ego, just ask Mike. And even after all this, he still claims that it’s all for his family. Like what?

[spacingoutzone]

Okay… so… I read Redo of a Healer(manga)…

I ⚠️Warning⚠️ contains discussion about rape and sexual assault |

First of all, no matter what, there is no justification for rape. It doesn’t matter how much trauma the victim went through, that doesn’t give them the right to rape their perpetrator. No one deserves to be raped, period. But, this also a fictional revenge tale that’s meant to be disturbing, and people have the right to explore those themes in writing. That doesn’t mean they can’t be criticized though.

Now, I don’t think the author’s intention is to justify Keyaru’s behavior. He is clearly written in a way that makes him look mad and villainous. Though, that is how some readers are interpreting the story. I feel like the audience isn’t supposed to root for Keyaru, or at least we shouldn’t, but instead to watch in horror and suspense as to what he’ll do next. At least that’s how I’m reading it.

Although the author goes out of his way to depict Keyaru’s perpetrators as violent sexual abusers and rapists themselves, I think this is to trick the audience into feeling confused about how we should feel about Keyaru and his actions. He doesn’t feel like an evil person yet his actions are evil, though the people he’s attacking are also evil. After all, you can’t have a completely hateful main character or no one will read your story. They have to be somewhat relatable and sympathetic. By making victims awful people it makes his disturbing acts of punishment more digestible for the audience.

Keyaru himself states that he’s no longer good, and he takes extreme pleasure in committing atrocities such as, torture, murder, rape, forcing others to commit incest, brainwashing, and drugging people. He also calls his female companions (two of which he brainwashed to love him) his toys and property.

Yes the he is helping Eve and Setsune to achieve their own revenge, but it’s not out of the goodness of his heart, but to use their power for his own personal gain, and for sex.

And GOD! I was rooting for Eve to see through his bullshit, but no, she caved in and slept with him. In her defense, as well as Setsune, she is a victim of oppression and genocide. Keyaru is her only companion and she believes that he wants to support her for her own happiness, but thats not his real motive. What he actually wants is to control the woman around him. He’s manipulating them.

He not only rapes woman physically as a way to dominate and humiliate them, but also mentally rapes woman by brainwashing them into his little toys that he can play with.

Thats his character. He had his entire free will taken from him and was turned into a mindless zombie by his perpetrators. He was violated in every conceivable way both sexually and physically. It’s not just revenge he desires, but to have full control of his environment, including the woman around him. He deals with his trauma by committing the acts done against him onto others. Which doesn’t justify his actions, but explains them.

My favorite revenge stories are when the MC either let’s go of their revenge as they learn it won’t grant them satisfaction but only more pain, or for them to become an absolute monster who’s just as bad or even worse than the person they want want revenge on, and they end up alone or dead.

If all of Keyaru’s female companions turn against him when they realize the extent of his actions, if Keyaru just goes full on villain and becomes more of a monster than his perpetrators, or dies a violent death, then I will be satisfied with this story. He is too forgone to let go of revenge, and there is no way for him to live a happy peaceful life, his urge to cause suffering and pain is his only way to deal with negative emotions. He’s a monster who enjoys raping and torturing people, he does not deserve a happy ending and if he gets one I will hate this story, because that would be such an unsatisfying ending!

Also Freia (brainwashed Flare) has developed a close bond with Setsune, whom is also protective of her. I’m really curious to see what will happen if Keyaru turns on Freia and Setsune protects her, or if Flare gets her memories back and returns to being hateful. Keyaru has contemplated giving her memories back, since he’s still using her as part of his revenge.

Also, I’m really curious to see what he’ll do to Bullet. Flare and Sword mostly beat and insulted Keyaru, but they did also sexually assault him. Afterwards, both their punishments mainly involved being violently raped. Bullet did physically assault Keyaru but he mostly sexually assaulted and raped him. Bullet is his rapist. Like what is Keyaru going to do? What is he going to do? Will his treatment be different because Bullet is a man? I’m guessing he’s probably going to turn Bullet female then torture him, like he did to the last guy.

Am I overthinking this? I do like the story and I’m curious what will happen next, more specifically what horrifying atrocity will Keyaru think of next.

[bisexualwannabewriter]

Requests for new stories

So. Since I’ve finished writing the “This is killing me” series, focused on Doctor Spencer Reid, and to celebrate my 100 followers (thank you so much you guys, I never thought so many of you would like my writing ❤🎉) I’d like to try and write some new things. So I’ve been thinking. There are a few male characters who inspire me a lot, and I’d like to give them a shot. Keep in mind this whole thing is still pretty new to me. That being said, I would like to focus on writing about male  characters FOR NOW; once I’ll get more comfortable, I’d like to try and write about female characters as love interests too, since I mostly  identify as bisexual.

Then, I often write from my own point of view, as a cis woman BUT I’d like to be more inclusive, so if you have special requests for a story, don’t hesitate to ask for it. I’ll try and do my best. I’m always open to learn. I'll also try to post stories that are more gender neutral.

I’m a part of a lot of fandoms, and I’d like to include as many as I can.

Also, keep in my mind my blog is NSFW. You have to be over 18 to request specific tropes that include sex. I'm also never going to   write about rape, or any form of disturbing non-consensual physical abuse. I'm also not comfortable with certain kinks (I'm sorry, but the whole ✨daddy✨ thing freaks me out, even with severe daddy issues 🥴, and insults, like one character being verbally abusive, like crazy name-calling and overly degrading shit...I don’t know man, I don’t get the appeal, but hey, to each their own !)

Here is the list of the male characters I want to write about the most at the moment :

Spencer Reid - Criminal Minds

Proinsias Cassidy  - Preacher

Bucky Barnes - MCU

The Darkling - Shadow and Bone

Morpheus, Dream of the Endless - The Sandman

Harwin Strong / Aemond Targaryen - House of the Dragon

Here are some extra options that I will totally consider if the inspiration comes :

Luke Alvez - Criminal Minds (seems like a pretty attractive option too, even if my favorite will always be Spence) 

Kai Parker - The Vampire Diaries (this one is different, because I haven’t  watched  TVD in years. I never made it to the point where he came in the  story, but I kind of developped a pretty heavy crush on him on here,  seeing  GIFS and clips from the show. Keep in mind I always do my  research on  the characters and their universe, especially when I don’t  know them  well.)

I thought about an older version of Peter Parker - MCU (he’s literally in highschool right now, I’m a grown woman. I’m thinking Tom Holland’s real age, which is 26. Or Andrew Garfield ? Let me know your preference)

Loki Odinson - MCU

Other Marvel characters (I’ve seen EVERY. SINGLE. MOVIE. Try me bitch. Kidding, but really, if you have someone in mind I haven’t mentioned, go for it.)

Stiles Stilinsky - Teen Wolf (I haven’t watched Teen Wolf in a long time, but I was sad to see Dylan O’Brien wouldn’t be in the movie. Might write a fiction that changes that, we’ll see ;))

Robb Stark / Gendry Baratheon - Game Of Thrones

John Shelby - Peaky Blinders

Fezco “Fez” O’Neill - Euphoria

Billy Hargrove / Steve Harrington - Stranger Things

I’m gonna update those lists as time goes by, so stay tuned people, I may add new characters !

Now. I’ve been writing quite a few sentences (few being an understatement), that you can also choose from, if you want me to insert them in the story of the character you’ve chosen.

Here are some of the tropes you can choose from (they’ll be updated too)

(PS : I might slightly change the sentences to better fit the story and the character each time.)

I was a dead man before I met you, y/n. I couldn’t remember what being alive felt like. Now I do.

I swear to you, as long as I’m around, you’ll never have to be alone again.

I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re safe with me.

Don’t go... Please, just stay with me, y/n.

Why can’t you just trust me ?

I don’t want you to fix me ! Don’t you get it ? I just want to be good enough for you. I’m trying. I need you to love me as I am.

Oh trust me, you don’t want to know what’s going on in my head right now. Just know I’ve undressed you 3 times already.

I’ve been dying to call you mine.

I’d do anything you’d ask me to. I’d go to hell and back, if you needed me to...

Just give us a chance, y/n. Please...

What did you do to me ? I’m never like this. It’s like you’ve put a spell on me or something.

Jesus... that dress is something. Why do I get the sick feeling you’re not wearing anything under it ?

Oh you love that, don’t you ? Playing games with me ? Breaking my fucking heart over and over again ?

I just want you to be okay... That’s the only thing that matters to me. I need you to be safe, and happy.

Tell  me something. Does he make you happy ? Does he make you laugh the way I do ? Does he make you feel as good as me ? He can’t love you like I  can. No one can.

Would it be foolish of me to think you feel the way I do ?

Go ahead. Show me just how much you hate me. Use that *weapon of choice* of yours, and hurt me. Kill me, even. Go on. Show me. I’ll wait.

Y/N... the things I could do to you...

Do you know what I think ? I think you’re in love with me, but you’re just too much of a coward to admit it.

Meeting you was the best thing that could ever happen to me.

Listen y/n. This doesn’t have a happy ending. You can’t save me. Save yourself. Let me go. Please...

Remember how happy we used to be when we were together ? What happened to us ?

How can someone as brilliant as you be so oblivious ?

There’s no getting over you. Trust me, I’ve tried.

You don’t get it, do you ? I could break you in half. I want to do bad, baaaad things to you. The kind that’ll keep you from walking straight   for a whole week.

Come with me, okay ? Just leave everything   behind. Let’s go as far away as the wind will take us. Let’s fucking run away. Together. You and me.

You’ll never understand how much you mean to me, y/n. I want to do everything in my power, to be the best man I can for you. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you.

I  wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re the kind of woman people write songs about. You’re the most magnetic creature on earth to me. There’s no escaping you.

Keep lying to yourself, y/n. You keep telling yourself you don’t want me. But you and I both know the truth.

I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight for us. I’ll do anything, y/n. Whatever it takes. I just... I need you by my side.

Do you know what ? Fine. Hate me, if it makes you feel better. Be mad. But  know this : I’d do everything again in a heartbeat, even knowing the  outcome. ‘Cause I fucking love you. I did what I had to.

I swear to God, you’ll never see me again. I’ll disappear like I was never part  of your life. I’ll let you forget about me and move on with your life. But I need to know. Just give me this, and then I’ll go. Did I mean so little to you ? Did you ever love me, even just a little ?

You can’t stare at me like this... you can’t moan my name like this, mark my  body like it’s yours... You can’t talk to me the way you do, and then  pretend you don’t feel a thing for me. It’s not fair.

You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, y/n. I wish you could see it, you’d  be unstoppable. And you know what scares me ? I know you don’t need me.  You don’t need anyone. But I need you.

You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that. Truth be told, I can’t keep my eyes off you. But what really gets to me, is your heart. You can try to act like you don’t  care, but you do. You care so deeply, and it’s the most magnificent thing there is to me.

Your eyes are the most hypnotizing thing I’ve ever seen. They tell a thousand different stories. They say something when you’re enjoying yourself, when you get angry, when you eat, when you think... perhaps even when you make love. That’s something  I’d kill to see.

I’ve been with other women/people before. I’ve fallen in love a few times, even. But you... you, y/n, are something else.

I can’t tell you what my dream was about. Not in details, anyway. But long story short... you were biting my pillow. Quite the sight.

It’s a funny thing, when you picture someone naked, and then reality exceeds your wildest dreams.

Is it wrong to say I thought about you when I was with her ? It is, isn’t  it ? Makes me a gigantic asshole. But it’s true. I even called her your name once. Probably why she got pissed. Yeaaah, that’s definitely why.

I want you so bad, I feel like my entire body in one big open wound. It fucking hurts, and I can’t fucking stand it anymore.

I’m so desperately in love with you, I can’t think straight. I can’t eat, I can’t breathe. I’m only alive when I’m anywhere near you. Call me a fool, call me whatever you want, but I’ll be happy just talking to you for a minute. That’s good enough, for me. And I’ll feed on those stolen moments, for as long as I’m here. Anything, even the smallest thing   you’re willing to grace me with, is a treasure I’ll forever keep close to my heart.

I like your voice. I could listen to you speaking all day. Makes me wonder what you sound like when someone’s making love to you... Must be the most enchanting sound on earth. I get goosebumps just trying to think about it.

I’ve never been this hard... Do you see what you do to me ? You don’t even have to touch me, and I’m on my knees, ready to worship you.

Give me one more night. You don’t have to talk to me ever again, after this. Just this one time, let me have you. I want to know the bliss of being between your thighs, one last time.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m serious about this. About us. And I need to know you feel the same. Is it as real to you as it is to me ?

Use me all you want y/n... Whatever it is, I’m here, I’m yours. Can’t you see how desperate I am ? Use all of me as you please.

Don’t. Don’t look at me like that. You know the look. The one that screams “I  want to know what you look like naked.” The “I feel a certain way about you.” It’s cruel.

I watched Hannibal - The Movie - recently, and - don’t judge me - but the seen where Clarice keeps Hannibal from leaving with handcuffs has given me ideas. So this wouldn’t be a sentence to incorportate, but more of a situation. You’re good, but the man you love is seen as the “bad guy”. He needs to pay and get arrested for what he’s done. You attach him to you with handcuffs, lots of tension follows, he begs for his freedom, threatens to cut your hand, but ultimately can’t, and either cuts his own hand, or you give him the key. Fucked up, I know, but I loved it.

Hope you'll have fun picking from the options I gave you 🥰 I'm looking forward to reading you, and finding new inspiration.  

[ziracona]

Something I think it’s worth the mention when it comes to writing ace characters (aside from the obvious ‘listen to ace ppl/look up q&as/learn from the source’ and ‘it’s a spectrum & the experiences are not all universal’), is that I don’t think people get how valuable variety is to us. We’re pretty rarely represented, so we tend to be happy we get anything at all, but so much of the time if we get an ace character, they’re kind of mousy and reclusive or naïve and young or inexperienced, fragile, isolated. And that’s not like, a de facto bad character type for an ace person or something, but it’s definitely not representative of us as a whole, and so it really shouldn’t be the only kind we get. So please, consider adding more types of people to those hc’s and wips.

There’s no wrong answer here, or trick. The scary jock girl ready to throw hands, the super romantic ray of sunshine, the sarcastic aloof asshole guy, the stoned nb literature nerd, the wise old woman, the fun uncle; they all work; there’s not a type. It’s a sexuality, not a personality type or a trait. And while this one is not a character type, just an experience, when it comes to ace representation period, one of the areas I think it’s especially important to include ace characters specifically is people who have experienced sexual violence. —Not as the sole ace, not saying that every character who has should be, none of that— but. For ace people? Regardless of our actual past and the presence of that or complete lack of it there, do you know how often people assume if we are asexual it must be a trauma response to abuse, probably in our childhood? Constantly. Repeatedly. Thoughtlessly, and invasively. It’s one of the most hurtful, damaging, and personal things I expect nearly every ace has heard. Which is why it’s extremely important to have ace characters who have experienced sexual violence. Not characters who are ace because of that, just ones who are. Because as annoying as it is for the rest of us, it’s fucking hell to get invalidated 24/7 because of past trauma by people who act like they think they’re simultaneously helping you and beating you. Aces who have experienced sexual trauma exist, and are not any less valid than the rest of the group, or ‘fake,’ or ‘messed up,’ or ‘only sex-negative because.’ The harassment gets to a point a lot of ace people won’t even be willing to admit to any trauma in their past to their friends even because the almost certain assumption is there that the second you do, people will treat you as if that automatically invalidates your sexuality. People get treated constantly if they have experienced sexual violence in their past as if that means they cannot be ace, and just think they are because someone hurt them. And that’s fucked up. They’re ace. They are. You don’t know shit about them, and they’re as valid as anyone else. There is no proven causality there, no matter how much people act like it. At best, they’re grasping at minor correlation, and being massively entitled and arrogant dicks about something they know nothing about. People who are asexual and have a history involving sexual violence are still ace. Being a lesbian who was raped by a man once doesn’t make you a reactive faker and not a lesbian. A dude who has sexual trauma caused by man before realizing they’re gay doesn’t mean the trauma ‘turned you gay.’ Being body shamed horribly or experiencing sexual trauma before realizing you are trans doesn’t make you a fake trans person. And it’s the same for aces. They’re just asexual, like any other asexual. You don’t know shit about them; they don’t owe you shit, and you should stop being horrible to them all the time over stuff you cannot know what you’re talking about in.

Which is why it’s really important to have some ace characters who have been victims of sexual violence. There’s little enough representation and solidarity and voices saying “you matter, you’re real, you’re not just broken, you’re not wrong” as it is. And they deserve representation and validation as much as the rest of us. They probably need it more. So please, if you write, consider adding someone who is ace and has gone through something sometime. Not ace because of it. Just. Valid. And gets to be valid and treated like it. It’s important.

[yikesharringrove]

I both really want to read a conversion camp fic and really fucking DONT lol but I trust you to do it well and not absolutely destroy us so... I am asking for you to write the conversion camp fic please.

Oh, my plan is to absolutely destroy you all with this one.

This is modern bc it wasn’t gonna be but then I wrote a part and it kinda had to be lol

TW: religion, homophobia, transphobia (nd Steve), conversion camp, anxiety, depression, physical abuse, the word r*pe is thrown around, suicidal ideations, basically, it’s a DOOZY

Seriously, this shit gets DARK. I have A LOT of untapped emotions.

But it has a happy ending, don’t worry

-

Steve’s hands were shaking as they dug through his bag.

They had already pulled out the eyeshadow palette he had tried to sneak in, needed something to make himself feel okay in this inevitable Hell.

“Did you receive our guidelines?” They had found the lipstick he had shoved in one of his shoes. “We specifically outlined prohibited items.” He took a shaky breath. “Your perversion is much deeper than anticipated, Mr. Harrington.” He just nodded.

He was shuffled about, led to a cold blank room.

His first meeting with a conversion specialist.

“What is your infatuation with women’s things?” The man’s voice made Steve feel like there was cold water dripping down his back.

“I just like pretty things.”

“Why do you deny your manhood?”

“I don’t.”

“You say that, but you do. Every time you pretend you’re a woman-”

“I don’t pretend I’m a woman. I just like makeup and stuff.” He gave Steve a disgusted look.

“By denying your true self, you have turned your back on God. You have allowed the devil to infiltrate your soul, to convince you that these perversions are okay.” He looked down at the paper in his lap, the forms Steve had been forced to sit and fill out with his parents. “You were not close with your father, were you?”

“Um, no. Not really.”

“So you pushed away your male role model?”

“He pushed me away, more like.” The man pursed his lips.

“A father does not push away his son unless there is something evil within him. A father can always tell when there is something wrong, something disgusting in his offspring.” He stood up, towering over Steve.

“You are disgusting, Steven Harrington. You are perverse and foul. You turn your back on your Creator. But you are not without a savior. You can be saved. Denounce the devil that tempts you to this life. Follow your savior, and He will lead you to safety.” He held out his hand. Steve took a breath, and shook it.

-

Steve’s first day was a fucking nightmare.

He was led to his room, a small room with two bunked beds and no doors. He was told he’d have three roommates, and if they were caught touching one another, the punishment would be painful.

And then it was group therapy.

He sat in a circle with ten of the other boys from the program. They were forced to discuss every attraction they had ever felt to anyone besides women. They were forced to discuss sexual encounters they had had with men, and call themselves disgusting.

And as it was Steve’s turn, and he talked about wearing panties, and fingering himself, and sucking Tommy’s dick, and he felt disgusting.

At dinner he met one of his roommates, and his heart sank.

“Where’d they scrape you up?” The guy was fucking gorgeous.

“Indiana.”

“And you just a homo? Or...?” The guy’s voice trailed off as he looked Steve up and down. “You one a’ them crossdressers, too?” Steve flushed deeply.

“How, how did you know?”

“Because you look like they got to you already. Means they got something on you. Make you feel real bad about yourself.”

“How, how long have you been here?”

“Long enough. Seen plenty a’ boys come and go. Some cured, some just a lost cause.” He was so nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Why, why so long?” He grinned at Steve, sharp and beautiful.

“Because I’m immune, Pretty Boy.” Steve’s breath hitched. The guy licked over his teeth. “Can’t beat the gay outta me if they tried. And they fuckin’ have.”

“But why, why don’t you want to change? I mean, they’re, they’re right.” His blue eyes went cold.

“They got you deep. Damn, you might be the quickest turn around I’ve ever seen.”

“I just, I don’t want to be wrong anymore.” He leaned closer to Steve.

“You have never been wrong.” Steve felt like he was gonna cry.

A firm hand clapped down on Steve’s shoulder.

“William, I hope you’re treating our new guest nicely.” William’s face fell immediately.

“Yes, Father.” Steve looked up to see a priest holding onto him. His hair was greying and neat. His eyes were cold and dead.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take Steven with me.” Steve followed him, eyes downcast, all the way to his office. “Steven, my name is Father Andrew. I’m here to help you.” Steve didn’t like his smile. “We’re going to meet everyday at 8:30 pm for your therapy.”

He pulled out a folder from the bottom drawer of his desk. He placed a photograph in front of Steve with a flourish.

It was porn.

It was fucking gay porn.

He stood in front of Steve, leaning against the desk, off to the side of the image.

“Tell me what you see here.” One of the men had dark hair. He was being taken from behind by the other man, his blond hair and bright eyes stirred something in Steve.

“Two men. Having sex.”

He didn’t see Father Andrew’s hand, just heard the crack of it against his cheek.

His eyes watered, his cheek burned.

“What do you see?”

“Two perverts.”

“What are they doing?”

“Defiling one another.”

“Good, Steven. You’re learning.”

He placed another photograph down. This time, the man being fucked had a full face of makeup, tears making the dark eyeliner run as he was on his back, hands cuffed to the bed. The man fucking him was smirking at the camera, tongue between his teeth.

“How does this make you feel?”

“Disgusted.”

“Why?”

“That they, they would touch each other like that.”

“Do you have fantasies like this? Of being tied up by another man? Raped by another man?”

And the answer, the answer was technically yes. He had plenty of fantasies of being tied up, taken rough, taken dirty.

But rape. That’s a strong fucking word.

“No, Father.” Another crack. Another slap.

“Lying is a sin, Steven.”

“I, I don’t want to be, to be raped.” Another slap.

“Lying is a sin, Steven.”

“Yes, yes Father. I have had fantasies.”

“These are not fantasies, these are perversions planted in your mind by demons, by the devil trying to pull you away from Christ our Lord. Do not let these demons lead you astray.”

He pulled out another picture.

Steve’s heart fucking stopped.

It was a picture of himself. A nude he had taken for Tommy.

He was wearing pretty lingerie, pouting to the camera. He remembers taking it, remembers putting on his makeup, posing over and over until he took one he liked. They must’ve gone through his phone, through his texts.

“Why do you dress like a woman?”

“Be-because I’m disgusting.” And the thing is, Steve had been told plenty of times that day that he’s disgusting, and he had begun to believe it.

“Good, Steven. You are disgusting. Do you believe you’re a woman?”

“No, Father.”

“Then why have you been experimenting with women’s things?”

“I believed I wasn’t a man.”

“And are you a man?”

“Yes, Father.”

“God made you a man.”

“Yes, Father.” Steve still didn’t like his smile.

He switched the image.

And it was another one of his nudes. This time he was in a skirt, kneeling with his back to the mirror, one hand spreading his cheeks, showing off the silver plug in his ass.

He even remembers the text he had sent with it.

Tommy had been studying for a test, so Steve sent that picture and said but im lonely :( and Tommy had replied I’ll be there in twenty.

“Why do you have an obsession with your anus?” Steve could feel the blood drain from his face.

“I, uh, it feels good.” Another slap.

“How does spitting in the face of your Heavenly Father feel good, Steven? Sodomy does not feel good.” Another slap. Steve’s face felt like it was on fire.

“I’m sorry, Father. I am vile, and disgusting.” Steve was sobbing, felt so fucking pathetic, trying to look anywhere but the printed image of himself.

“I think that’s enough for tonight. I expect you here tomorrow after dinner.”

Steve fucking ran back to his room.

The other boys were asleep. He climbed into the top bunk, curling into himself.

He felt disgusting, he felt foul and wrong and bad.

He tried to stifle his sobs into his pillow, the scratchy case muffling his panic attack.

“Hey, Stevie.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quiet.” There was a sigh, breath fanning over his face.

And then the boy from earlier was swinging himself into bed with him, curling against him.

“They said-”

“I know exactly what times they patrol. I’ll leave your bed before then.” He sighed. “First night’s always the hardest. You just gotta get through. Tell them what they wanna hear, but remember that they’re fucking wrong. You are valid, and real. Being gay is not disgusting.”

Steve curled into him, letting himself be comforted.

“Thank you. Thank you, William.”

“Oh, Christ. Call me Billy.”

“Thank you, Billy.”

-

As time passed, it was easy to retreat into himself.

He met with Father Andrew every night, got slapped and hit when his answers weren’t condemning enough.

But each night, Billy would crawl into bed with him, would hold him when he broke down.

The kiss was inevitable.

It happened after Steve had an extreme day, the beating he received when he had admitted to being nonbinary, that he had asked his friends at home to use other pronouns.

And Billy had said you’re perfect the way you are, Sweet Thing.

And Steve kissed him.

And Steve wanted to die.

-

“Forgive me, Father. For I have sinned.” Steve took a shaking breath.

He was kneeling in the small confessional.

They had Mass every three days, and confession each Friday.

“It has been one week since my last confession.” He took a deep breath. He needed to get this of his chest, needed to get the punishment he deserved. “Father, I, the feelings have not gone away. There is, there’s a boy, and I, I love him. And I try not to. I try not to look at him, to remember the devil is leading me astray. But Father, I think about him. I think about him often.”

“This is an extremely grievous sin, my son.”

“I know, Father. Please help me. I want to, I want to be pure. To be free of this sin, this temptation.”

“I offer, as penance for your sins, to pray a rosary for each time you have had an evil thought about your fellow man this week. As you ponder the Mysteries of the rosary, consider how God created you, how Jesus died for you, and you wipe your feet on their love.”

“Yes, Father.”

“And our meeting will be arduous tonight, Steven.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Now please, recite the Act of Contrition.”

Steve’s hands shook as he recited the prayer, finishing his confession with Father Andrew.

-

“Now, Steven. You discussed having impure thoughts today.”

Steve’s knees ached from praying the rosary so many times earlier today. He hadn’t eaten, had gone straight to the Chapel after his confession.

He wanted to pray, to cleanse himself.

And he didn’t want to risk seeing Billy.

“Yes, Father.”

“And you mentioned that you love another boy.”

“The devil is trying to make me think it’s love.” Father Andrew smiled his empty smile down at Steve.

“That’s right Steven. Because love cannot exist between two men. Love is a beautiful thing created and given to us by The Lord God.” Father Andrew leaned over Steve, made him shrink back in his seat. “Which is why you are unlovable as you are. You are foul and vile. You may be loved if you change.”

He grabbed Steve’s hair, holding his head still as he slapped his face.

And Steve let him.

He was foul, he was vile.

He deserved the pain.

-

Two months.

That’s how long it took Steve to “graduate”.

He left the facility in clean khakis, a nice sweater his mother had sent him to wear home.

Billy had left a week and a half prior.

He was deemed a lost cause.

Steve’s mother was there to pick him up, hugged him tight and told him how happy she was that he was fixed.

He was quiet as they drove, watching the shadows the summer sun cast on the side of the plain flat road.

“Your father will be pleased. You’ve made such wonderful progress. Free of all those delusions.”

They passed Tommy’s house.

He felt sick.

-

The first thing Steve did when he got home was destroy all his make up.

He took everything feminine from it’s hiding spot in the back of his closet.

He scraped out the eye shadow, smeared the lipstick all over his dresses.

He cut up his lingerie, shoved everything into a black garbage back, driving into town to toss it in the dumpster behind the gas station.

He wanted it away, he wanted it gone. He wanted to be pure.

-

His hands shook as he zipped up the suitcase.

He didn’t have much in there, was planning on taking enough to get him through a little while, then maybe buying some things, some pretty things.

His parents were asleep downstairs, he was planning on being long gone by the time they woke up.

He put on his backpack, taking his wallet and tiptoeing down the stairs, his shoes in his hand.

He had a plan, would drive to the bus station, leave his car there.

Someone will find it, and at that point, he’ll be long gone.

He bought a bus ticket to Chicago, paid in cash and gave a fake name.

He was fucking out of here.

They were fucking out of here.

-

“As I live, and fucking breathe.”

Steve startled as a hand came down on their shoulder.

They startled again when they turned around, came face to face with a ghost from the past.

“B-Billy?” Billy’s hair was longer than it had been at the camp. His smile was lazier, his eyes brighter. Steve’s gut gave an excited little flutter as he looked them up and down.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous, Pretty Boy.” Steve flushed, adjusting their dress. It was new.

It had been three years since the camp. One year of Steve living in pain, until they packed their shit, and moved to the Golden Coast. They left in the middle of the fucking night, ran away like a scared child, never looking back.

And here was the love of their goddamn life, in some hole in the wall coffee shop in San Fransisco.

“It’s uh, it’s not Pretty Boy, anymore.” Billy’s grin got even wider.

“Thank fuck.” He swung himself into the seat across from Steve’s, upsetting some of the papers they were working on.

“What happened to you, Billy?” Billy’s smiled slipped, just a little.

“My dad was tired a’ paying for that joint if I wasn’t getting better. So he said if I wasn’t fixed in like, a month, he would stop paying, and I would be kicked out. Stayed true to his word. Haven’t seen the bastard since.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Getting kicked outta that place is the best fuckin’ thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I graduated. Went through the whole thing. Took me a year to realize how fucked up it was.”

“Jesus. They got you deep.” Steve shrugged.

“I’m okay now.”

“Yeah? What’re you doin’?”

“Goin’ to school. Gonna be a counselor. Hopefully work in an elementary school, or something.” Billy’s eyes were bright.

“That’s amazing. Gonna tell all the little queer kids that they’re valid and all that?”

“That’s the goal.” Billy grinned. “What are you doing now? You with anyone?”

“I own a bar, actually. Kind of a dive, but it’s a good time.” He looked at Steve through his lashes. “You should come by, sometime. Be good to see you.”

“I’d like to see you too.”

“And to answer your question, I’m not with anyone. Not right now.” He smirked. “But I could be.” He leaned over the table, drawing one finger down Steve’s hand. “I like seeing you happy. Feel like I only ever saw you cryin’ in that joint.”

“Well, spent a lot of time crying there.”

“For good reason.” Billy took their hand. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Y’know I told Father Andrew I was in love with you. Got beat black and fuckin’ blue for it.” Billy’s face was grave.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Wanted to be fixed. Took me a year to realize I didn’t need that.”

“You stop lovin’ me in that year?”

“Not even in the two after that.” Billy took a shaking breath.

“You know, I uh, I love you too. Always did. It broke my fucking heart to leave you in that place. Was gonna wake you up that night, get you to run away with me. But they took me out, uh, forcibly.”

“Bet you put up a real good fight.”

“Broke Father Ryan’s nose.” Steve let out a burst of laughter, clapping one hand over their mouth.

“I was wondering about that. He had a splint for like, a month.”

“Yeah, well, bastard kept tryin’ to exorcise me. Headbutted him right in the face.”

“Good for you, Bill. Sometimes I wish I could light the whole place on fire.”

“Me too.” Billy took their hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I gotta head, but I wanna see you. Soon. Later today, if you can.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m just doing some homework, but I could stop by the bar tonight? I don’t have shit to do tomorrow.”

“Lemme pick you up. We can go to dinner before I take you to the bar.” They smiled softly at him.

“I’d like that.”

[joanna-lannister]

I categorically refuse to listen to T*rgs stans, they're nothing but a bunch of disgusting hypocrites. Misogyny to them is only if it affects D*enerys negatively. They’re still mad because their fave got was coming and what any semi intelligent viewer and reader predicted years ago. ‘I don't know how to explain to you that the trope of a man killing the woman he loves while in intimate embrace, framing him as the REAL victim here, it's uh... bad’, ‘the Good Guy put down his crazy girlfriend like a rabid dog? I mean come on, she’s nothing more than a prop for his totally endearing moody man pain’ blablabla... But Cersei being strangled to death by Jaime was genius writing (she has been abused and raped by Robert for so many years, raped by Jaime, forced to perform the Walk of Shame but okay). (And saying Cersei is horrible when their favorite house is composed of tyrants, colonisers and genocidal imperialists and the Freehold of Valyria was built on the backs of slaves. The words of house T*rg are literally “Fire and Blood”, chaos, destruction and death. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!)

But thank god, Cersei died in a way that completely deprives her haters of any way to get joy from her death. None of the characters who the fandom gleefully theorised would turn on Cersei/murder her brutally/both any day (Jaime, Qyburn, Euron, Tyrion, Gregor Clegane, the people of King’s Landing, even) did that.  Cersei denied everyone, the characters and the audience, the satisfaction of seeing her die a slow and voyeuristic painful death as the woman who lead the realm to slaughter. Cersei didn't give anyone the satisfaction to kill her, none of her enemies get his revenge on her. She was emotional, happy and with the person that loved her most. Jaime hugged and comforted her, and she died human. Die mad about it 😘

Bro, MOOD and as you should! This fandom is filled with hypocrite but the T*args side is probably one of the worst. Frankly, part of it bothers me because I actually love D*ny and the T*rgaryens? But I can't stand most of their stans because of their hypocrisy, and they are so fucking extreme, it's impossible to have a convo with them, so I rather stay out but ugh... And how many of them I've seen crying out, pulling those exact words? How this trope is bad, how this trope is sexist? How terrible for a rape victim and a survivor it is to be betrayed again by a man she trusted? Which, I do agree on the point tho. But then, they have THE NERVE to turn around and say that's what should have happened to Cersei. Cersei, who is also a rape victim and a survivor. Cersei, who have been through rape and abuse for years. Cersei, who was sold as a pawn, a broodmare, and had to fight to pave her own way as well. Do they forget in that very same season, she was coerced into sex because, even if she is Queen Regnant and hold the supreme power, Westeros remains deeply sexist and as a woman, she is still seen as nothing else but a piece of meat? And if she wanted to keep an ally and make sure her baby was safe, she had no other choice but to "accept" it? But no, no, they rather make memes about it, call her a whore and said she burned all her bridges. Okay. And maybe the worst is how they are raving about how Jaime should have violently killed her. And I insist on the violently here, because they didn't only want murder, they wanted blood. Cersei's blood. To the point of even making fanarts and write fully detailled posts of how it should have happened and shit like that. Sick.

Either you agree this trope is sexist and bad for every female characters, with no exception, or you admit it only bothered you because that's how your fave ended.

I've always said feminism in this fandom leaves the room when Cersei shows up and the reactions the show received after its ending definitely proved I was right.

Anyway, as you said, they can die mad about it 😌💅🏻 Cersei never gave them the satisfaction to die painfully and violently. She died human, as she has always been. And she died in the arms of the man she loved, comforted and loved by him, and that's what matter.

[dancingkirby]

Fanfic: The Morning After

Sokka and Ty Lee have a little chat about their mutual lover, and then Sokka has an encounter with Azula herself.  This is a direct sequel to the Sokkla scene I wrote for the Chapter 69 special.  Like most of what I post here, this is a right draft.  I feel that the ending still needs some work, but I think the rest of it turned out well.  Especially since this was my first time writing Sokka’s PoV!

WARNING: Referenced past sexual abuse/incest.  Kind of par for the course with this series.

Waking up in the mornings was so, so overrated…especially when it was this early. Sokka had been wrenched out of sleep by a strong urge to pee, but once that had been taken care of, he found himself unable to drift of again.  The birds outside his window were causing a racket, and even when he turned his head away from the window, he felt as if it the sunlight was drilling a hole in the back of his skull.  Resigning himself to the inevitable, Sokka sat up in bed and reached for the stash of blubbered seal jerky he’d stashed under his pillow, only to be severely disappointed when he found that the bag was empty.  That was right…he’d eaten the last few pieces last night.

Last night…what had that even been?

He had, of course, been hoping he’d get lucky that night, since it was a wedding and all, so he’d come prepared.  But he would have never guessed in a gazillion years that it would be with Azula.  Yes, he’d been aware that she’d been looking at him all day, but he’d assumed it was because she hated him and was fantasizing about his death.  It turned out that her fantasies had actually been about something slightly less violent…and way more sexy.

(He hadn’t been entirely blameless in this either…he’d stared right back at her, thinking about how hot she’d become.  And not in the firebending sense.)

And then…they’d had sex.  In a closet that was so tiny that Sokka hadn’t been quite able to stand up straight. Azula had proven to be a screamer, and when they’d left the closet, they’d had to do a Walk of Shame through a large and boisterous crowd to get to the sleeping quarters.  

He held his head in his hands.  If Zuko didn’t know yet, he certainly would soon.  And then Sokka was really gonna get it.  Well, he might as well go outside for a walk first, so he wouldn’t face the Fire Lord with all this metaphorical gunk clogging his thoughts.  It was a testament to his current emotional turmoil that he didn’t even eat breakfast first.

They hated each other, right?  That much hadn’t changed.  And yet…that sex had been something else.   He’d heard about hatesex, of course, but he’d never thought he’d actually experience it. What was more, Azula had evidently been satisfied enough with how it’d gone to suggest that this could become a regular Thing.  However, that was before they knew that everyone in the palace was aware of it.

Sokka navigated the maze of corridors more or less successfully, and flung open a side exit door leading to one of the gardens.  When the spring air, still cool this early and laden with the scent of flowers, hit his face, he thought he already felt a little better.  As he started walking around the perimeter, he thought that surely no one else would be out here at this hour…

Except there was.

He had thought, upon initially passing it, that it was simply an ordinary bush with biggish pink flowers on it.  Sokka had no idea what the flowers were called. (Hey, he was the meat and sarcasm guy…not the plant guy!)  Then, he had almost walked by it when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.  He figured it was probably only the breeze, but turned back to look anyway,,,and saw that the bush had grown large eyes that were staring right back at him.  

“Whoa!” he cried out.  “Please leave me alone, Creepy Bush with Eyes. I wasn’t doing any…”

He broke off his sentence, feeling more than a little embarrassed at himself as he realized that the eyes did not belong to the bush, but rather to the now-giggling lady sitting next to the bush, feet tucked behind her head. (How could that possibly be a comfortable way to sit?)  Her pink outfit had made her blend right in.

Wait.  Pink?  This was Ty Lee!  Shit. She and Azula were dating, right? What if Azula had cheated on Ty Lee with him?  

“Weeelllll…it was really nice seeing you, Ty Lee, or rather not seeing you, but this is a little awkward, wouldn’t you think?  I think I’ll just be…leaving, and then we can both pretend that this never happened. Sound like a plan?”

But Ty Lee lowered her feet, stood up, and said, “Wait.  No.   I wanted to talk with you for a bit.”

Oh fuck, he was in for it now!

“What about?” he replied.  He was trying to be casual, but the fact that his voice was currently an octave higher than it had been in about four years gave him away.

“I’m not mad at you, silly!” Ty Lee insisted, sitting on a nearby bench.  “Just sit right here...”–she patted the spot next to her– “And we can clear some things up, okay?”

“About Azula?” Sokka sighed.  Ty Lee nodded.

“Yeah.  About Azula.”

Sokka gingerly sat, crossing his legs just in case.  “I take it you know about last night?”

“M-hm,” Ty Lee said. “But that…what you probably think is the problem isn’t.  Azula and I have…kind of an arrangement.  We see other people.  I’ve been starting to do a bit of dating myself.  Not that anyone’s really worked out for me yet, but…well, anyway, you don’t have to worry about that.”  She flushed as she realized that she’d overshared a bit.

“Then what is the problem?” Sokka pressed.  Ty Lee’s gaze flickered down to her lap, and she seemed to be trying to figure out how to put what she wanted to say into words.  

“Be careful with her, okay?” she finally said in a soft voice, pleading gaze back on him.

Sokka shuddered. “No need to tell me that twice.”

Ty Lee shook her head, braid swaying from side to side.  “Not like that.  Well, I guess kind of…but what I was trying to get at was, she’s good at putting on an act, but she’s still really emotionally fragile.  She…you were at the meeting; you know what happened to her.”

Yes, Sokka remembered that meeting well.  No sooner had Katara and Sokka gotten back home with Dad than they’d received a message telling them to return to the Fire Nation for an urgent matter.  Sokka’s first thought was that Iroh had gotten sick, but that proved not to be the case.  

As soon as he and Katara had arrived at the palace, they had been ushered into a small conference room.  Somewhat oddly, metal buckets had been placed by every seat.  The two of them, Aang, Toph, Suki, Ty Lee, Zuko, and Mai had been the only people in the room, and the new Fire Lord had sworn them all to secrecy.

“I’m not sure how to lead up to this, so I guess I’ll just come out and say it,” Zuko had said, face pale and grief-stricken.  The entire room was horrified to hear that Ozai had raped his own daughter multiple times, and not only that…he had impregnated her.  

It had quickly become clear that the buckets had been placed there in case anyone had to vomit, and Aang and Suki had had to use theirs.  Sokka hadn’t, although it had been close.  But Ty Lee had taken it the worst of all of them.  After a few seconds of shocked silence, she had burst into tears and been utterly inconsolable.  The only things she had been capable of saying were, “I should have known!” and “It’s all my fault!”

For all he knew, she could still be blaming herself for it…

Sokka swallowed. All he could trust himself to say was, “Yeah.  I know.”

Ty Lee squeezed her eyes shut, as if she too was revisiting that memory in her head.

She said, “Azula’s had a lot of relearning to do. And she’s trying to be a better person in her own way, I think.  At the very least, she’s realized that she wasn’t happy the way she was before.  But sometimes, she’s not quite there yet.  Be patient with her, that’s all I’m asking. And if she starts doing something messed up, you have to let her know about it.  And if you ever, ever take advantage of her…you’ll have to answer to me.”

That last part sounded slightly ludicrous on the surface, coming from such a sweet-faced woman, but Sokka knew well that her appearance was deceiving.  He held up his hands.  “Hey, no advantage-taking going on here!  I promise.”

“It’s okay.  I believe you,” Ty Lee stated.  She gave him a crooked little smile, while simultaneously blinking away tears.  “I…I was happy when I heard last night.  I think you might be the person Azula needs right now.  So…friends?” She held out her little finger to pinky-promise.

Sokka smiled as he linked her finger with his.  “Sure. Friends.”   Naturally, his stomach had to choose that very moment to give an audible growl.

“Whoops.  Guess I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast,” he muttered.  “Well, I should go now.  It was nice talking to you, though!  Glad we set things straight.”

“No problem!” Ty Lee replied.

Once Sokka had gone to the kitchens and successfully begged for some grub (They had leftovers from last night!  Score!), he encountered none other than Azula on the way back to his room.  She was dressed in her training garb, but had looked like she had been in no hurry to get to the sparring grounds.  In fact, from the way she’d been leaning against a doorway, it almost looked like she’d been waiting for him.

He sidled up to her, and whispered, “So…are we still on for tonight?” She nodded.

He couldn’t help it; he winked at her.  After all, he was Sokka, and he had to uphold certain standards.  Azula looked taken aback at first…but then she smiled.  She had dimples, and it was strangely adorable.

Before she could speak, though, a shout rang out from behind them.

“There you are! Mai and I heard some really weird stuff about…”  Zuko rounded a corner, and the “weird stuff” was apparently confirmed when he saw Sokka and Azula standing so close to each other.

“Yes, Zuzu, we fucked,” Azula said, sounding impressively nonchalant.  “Do you have a problem with that?”

A long pause ensued. Sokka tried to follow Azula’s lead and act casual by whistling tunelessly, but his attempt was much less successful than hers.  At long last, Zuko shook his head.

“You know what? Fine.  I don’t want to think about it.  Just…be sure to use protection, okay?”  And off he went.

“I should be off, too,” Azula said to Sokka.   She strode briskly away, but not before discreetly dropping a folded scrap of paper on the floor at Sokka’s feet.  Once he was back in the privacy of his own room, he opened it and read the few characters printed on it.

Eight o’clock.  Don’t be late.

He certainly had no intention of letting her down.

[2ndblogg]

Hey! Just read your hot take on novel!wangxian and I absolutely agree. I'm gonna have to say here that I believe it boils down to the fetishization of homosexual men in a lot of the fandom culture that surrounds mlm shipping, as you said it's a space for a lot of women to experiment with their desires and whatnot, but I think therein lies the breaking points between reading novel!wangxian as a good, healthy relationship vs. reading it as a very flawed and toxic one. As an LGBT person, reading the way the author dealt with their relationship made me extremely uncomfortable, it just really feels like something that is written by someone who is more invested in using her queer characters for satisfying her and her reader's own pleasure than a well-built, strong relationship between two characters. Not to take away from the novel in some other aspects, I believe that novel!wwx is a much better, much more nuanced character than what he is in cql, but when it comes to wangxian, I think the intentions are very different for each of them. To each their own, I guess, but I do find it very troubling that some people in the fandom have a really hard time admitting that novel wangxian is not even remotely healthy.

Absolutely.

And can I just say how glad it makes me to see that not everyone is praising this book for it’s lgbt representation...

But I guess that’s also why I just occasionally feel the need to scream my frustrations into the void or try to make sense of the novel.

And why I try to be understanding and accepting of people’s opinion of the novel and not take it ‘personally’ (in the sense of sitting there thinking “holy shit this is how they view ME, this is what they think of ME” etc).

I was in fandoms back when they were really a place dominated by straight (homophobic) women and realism or lgbt representation wasn’t on anyone’s mind (and the occasional dude butting in to say that’s not how sex works or bottoming is experienced was ignored or told to get out). I experienced this change to fandoms being more of a lgbt space, of people becoming aware that media can shape your views of groups of people, of people becoming aware of their fetishizing of fictional gays vs. their prejudice against real life lgbt people etc.

And tbh MXTX just writes like one of those, she writes wangxian like everyone wrote their gay relationships around 2005 and earlier; clear power imbalance, clear roles and attributes that are divided into ‘manly’ and ‘feminine’, certain physical attributes (like the female self insert character aka the bottom being pretty and slight and weaker and shorter), men/the penetrating partner can’t really be raped so anything the woman/bottom tries isn’t really ‘bad’, the male love interest is forceful and self centered but ONLY because he’s so in love and since he’s emotionally stunted he has to express that through sex, men/tops NEED sex and it’s rude/mean to deny them that, the girl/bottom isn’t THAT horny or in charge of their own sexuality but wants to please their partner and what they really get out of it is the emotional aspect, decisions need to be made for them because the dude/top just knows better, the girl/bottom is childish and flirty and the guy/top suffers through it until he finally snaps and shows the girl/bottom who'sboss etc etc. (honestly homophobia and misogyny is so tightly knit in this kind of fiction, if it wasn’t so frustrating it would be very interesting).

Tbh I disagree with novel!wwx being more nuanced (despite a lot of ppl whose opinions I really respect also feeling this way), because I simply cannot seperate him from the wangxian relationship. All I see are tropes and stereotypes applied to make him ‘work’ in the context of the wangxian relationship instead of an actual personality...

To me, in CQL WWX is clearly the main character and you love his interactions with LWJ and want more of them and value them, wheras in the novel most of the time WWX plays second fiddle even when a scene should technically be about him and LWJ’s presence is incredibly suffocating, because he’s always being controlling or at the very least influencing WWX.

I also don’t feel like WWX has much of a character arc/growth. We’re essentially told he had one but the only thing that really actually changes is him hating himself a bit more and letting LWJ smash..., and I guess: he’s less independent than ever, he’s more isolated that ever...

I’ve called novel!wangxian a relationship between an abuser and his victim, because you can find evidence of that in the text. Not because I think the author wanted to portray an unhealthy gay relationship. Like you said, she was fetishizing and wrote for a similar crowd. But to me that ‘realization’ helped...I still don’t see how people can call it a masterpiece but I can at least understand hyping something you like up...

And like, badly written gay relationship or not; gay/straight,man/women, I see how people can find it hot. Exploring your sexuality through fictional characters isn’t necessarily a strictly straight girl phenomena. I probably have read fic that was exactly like this, I can’t judge anyone for it. But no one prints out the last PWP they read and goes, “this is ideal lgbt representation and nothing will ever be this good, the fact that it includes rape makes it so realistic” like????

(Is that part or an effect of the woke and purety culture? you can’t say ‘i like this book but it has flaws’ or ‘i’ve enjoyed this but it’s not up the feminism or lgbt acceptance that i preach/live’ so you have to pretend it’s flawless?)

And like, I do think novel!wangxian is a nightmare when it comes to lgbt representation and I do believe this is largely due to a cishet woman writing about gay men and fetishizing them (the fact that a lot of peoples arguments why novel!wangxian ‘is better’ boils down to ‘there’s kissing and sex’ is also pretty telling). And I am frightend and worried by some peoples response to it.

But is it really fair to see it as just that? It’s a problem sure, but that same thing happens in straight media (which I am admittedly not well versed in). Stephanie Meyer didn’t set out to write Edward Cullen to be a creep and non of the teenage girls that went crazy over him viewed it as such...Reylo fans (aside from some of them proclaiming Finn to be the real villain and saying it’s racist and misogynistic to not find Kylo Ren hot) found a way to view him threatening her as romantic and sexy, Loki fans that didn’t ship him with Thor usually fell into the camp of “he would be a perfect boyfriend” or “what if this OFC was his slave and he raped her everyday <3″... like ignoring/glorifying/romanticizing behaviours or exploring what kinks you might have through the safety of fictional characters and fictional settings isn’t JUST happening when it comes to ‘the gays’...

And not just specifically in fandom spaces either, a lot of ‘romantic’ movies include inappropriate touching, the boy/guy knowing better than the girl what she wants etc. And I absolutely do believe that that’s something that normalized these things for a lot of young girls and guys (I don’t want to get into this too much, I’ve really seen a change in the past few years, but before that it was pretty common for young boys to believe they need to keep pursuing and pressuring a girl that has said no, girls truly thought boys could die of blue balls, girls thought it was their duty as good girlfriends to let their boyfriends fuck them even when they weren’t in the mood, that they couldn’t talk about what they want in bed or what they don’t find enjoyable because ‘sex is for boys and girls get a relationship in exchange’ etc.).

And in much the same way movies have only relatively recently begun being called out for that, it’s also still pretty recently that they’re being called out for having their one queer coded character be a pedophile and a murder or whatever...Like, society as a whole becoming aware of these issues.

But do authors that publish their work with a specific target audience in mind have a responsibility to think about the effect it might have on them? (And I can already hear loud screams of ‘no way, it’s not your fault if your audience isn’t smart enough to understand that this bad thing is bad’, but I actually do believe in a way they do. That doesn’t mean you can’t or shouldn’t write whatever you want, just maybe take a look at HOW you bring your point across. (We do KNOW people are influenced by what propaganda they’re consistantly fed. I mean, you wouldn’t write a pro-drugs childrens book...) )

What if the author isn’t aware of their bias and prejudices? Or their target audience isn’t their actual audience?

And do we, society and media, judge female and male authors differently when it comes to romance and sex in fiction? (The answer is yes btw) But also, where do we draw the line at calling something ‘badly written’ and calling it toxic? Can it be both? As I’ve said before, a lot of people claim that only the physical intimacy scenes of novel!wangxian are bad, because they’re badly written and OOC, some say the book as amazingly written and only the wangxian relationship is bad because the author doesn’t know how to write gay men. In my ‘hot take’ I essentially said that’s not necessarily bad writing so much as it’s simply an (okay, unintentional) toxic relationship. And would this relationship still come across as toxic (or badly written, whichever you want) if we didn’t know the author to be a cishet woman? Or if a gay man had written it? (my personal, eloquent answer for this is: yes, but differently.)

Which was really all just a rambly way to get to my point of: it’s not just fetishizing of gay men, it’s also the homophobia and self-inserting in a safe situation.

You can literally replace WWX in the novel with a female character and it wouldn’t change a thing. The author takes such an effort into building up this power imbalance in every aspect of their life that if WWX were a heroine nothing would change in this (sexist/ancient society) setting.

(And clearly this is something that appeals to people if you look at the amount of female!WWX fics...)

Not even the sex scenes. There are maybe two allusions in all of them combined that WWX might also have a dick but like, you can’t be sure and it sure as hell doesn’t need stimulation.

(and again, that could be written as a kink...but it’s just not.)

CQL is a gay love story. MDZS at it’s core is none of that.

But I also very much agree with your ‘to each their own’, like here I am criticizing and trying to find explanations and whatever, but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter why someone might like (or write) a book like this, I vastly prefer CQL!wangxian but people have their own reasons for not doing so.

The ‘problem’ really only lies in, as you said, people not being able to accept that it’s not a healthy relationship. Or claiming it to be perfect lgbt rep.

And because my brain can’t shut up today:

I also can’t stop thinking that the way some people ‘glorify’ the book as due to their age and ‘inexperience’.

When I was a pretty young kid and got into fanfiction, there was nothing but completely OOC!whump to be found in the first two fandoms I was in. And I loved it. It was YEARS later that I thought I might like to read something with the characters being...in character. What I’m trying to say, in different stages and phases of your life you might enjoy different things, for different reasons...and obviously, in that moment, you won’t think about ‘what appeals to me here/should this appeal to me/etc’.

I don’t mean inexperience as ‘sexual inexperience’ here, though of course that could be part of it, but also like, inexperience with this genre (is this the first book like this you read, or did you just read 50 in a row that all had the same unhealthy vibes?), with lgbt people and issues (do you know any lgbt people or is your only image of them either the cute boy you can’t have and don’t want to see with another girl or grown men in full kink gear in front of children during CSD? and also: do you think ‘i like this’ and that’s the end of it or do you notice how many people idolize this objectively unhealthy relationship and won’t allow critique on it...)  

I...just wanted to say thanks really.

I just can’t stop rambling apparently and I know I mostly just repeated what you said or what I already said but in longer... I just really do feel very strongly about novel!wangxian and the perception of them and have actually at times felt very personally...worried/affected, by people’s acceptance and love of them and I just... have to try and make sense of it...

[chilledplantmum]

I’m so sorry I have to write this:

And again this is a complication of 100’s stories I have been witness too:

IF YOU FEEL TRIGGERED OR FEEL SIMILAR IN ANYWAY YOU DESERVE BETTER YOUR LIFE MATTERS YOU DESERVE BETTER!

Help numbers:

Life line: 13 11 14

Men’s help line: 1300 789 978

Beyond blue: 1300 22 4636

1800 RESPECT

Kids helpline: 1800 55 1800

And

CONTENT WARNING: suicide, mental health, abuse of women and children, death, rape, sexual assault, racism, ableism, sexism, homophobia.

Male manager walks into his males CEO’s office:

MM: Hey mate I need to take a week off I’m really struggling.

CEO: why?

MM: it’s personal

CEO: I’m your CEO your personal life takes a back burner to your leadership in the company.

MM: there are two other managers that can fill my spot.

CEO: one has legitimate medical certificate one is taking annual leave.

MM: to be honest it’s just a week I’ve trained my team well enough to take my role for a week.

CEO: you mean the old black man, the up and coming rainbow boy, or the 20 something piece of ass.

MM: no they’re my team they are just as qualified as I am.

CEO: mate you know black men die younger? I think he has a drinking problem what if Carks it?

MM: please don’t talk about him like that he taught me everything I know.

CEO: or the young guy with rainbows on his t-shirt and pictures of kissing another man on his desk? That bloke doesn’t know if he’s a man or a woman.

MM: please don’t talk about him like that he is dating one of my best mates.

CEO: and don’t you dare tell me that 20yo blonde bimbo is as qualified as you the only reason I let you hire her coz she’s got the person tit to arse ratio.

MM: breaks down in tears

CEO: oh for fucks sake man! Get your shit together. The only man who cries is a pussy.

MM: sir I need a week off please I’m so tired, my dog died this week and my wife’s pregnant and due soon, she’s throwing up every day and still being an amazing mum.

CEO: are you joking! your dog? Boy, I used to live on a farm we used to shoot animals for fun! What are you a fucking vegan!

MM: what about my wife?

CEO: pfft she’s got it easy I wish I could stay home all day and watch tv and do nothing.

MM: but she’s so sick and my toddler is really energetic and needs a lot of attention.

CEO: what kind of father are you? Kids should be seen and not heard, if you can’t get control then your a lazy father.

MM: but he has autism.

CEO: you know what autism is an excuse for bad parenting in my day we gave them kids the belt.

MM: the specialist said that could traumatize him.

CEO: Okay, but you still can’t take a week off.

MM: Can I apply for annual leave?

CEO: I need two weeks to notice, no

MM: sir I’m really not okay, I’m feeling overwhelmed and suicidal.

CEO: suicidal, you should man up it’s not like you fought in the war.

MM: please.

CEO: NO! You can either be grateful for everything I do for you or quit, you’re choice

MM: alright.

MM comes home.

WIFE: Ohh Hunny thank god you're home! Our toddler is in hysterics!

MM: alright I’ll watch a movie with him. Is it okay if I have a nap first?

WIFE: Are you kidding? You don’t know what tired is!

MM: Okay, Hunny.

MM calls his best freind.

BF: hey bro!

MM: dude I’m soo bloody tired my CEO dragged me through the coals today.

BF: you think that’s bad? My brother in law had his jaw broken on the weekend for getting drunk and starting a fight with a security guard at the club!

MM: the man he always gets so violent when he’s drunk.

BF: I know the man but it’s so funny! The dude looks like buzz lightyear! He got a concussion and looks like an old man who’s had a stroke! Man, you gotta see it I made a meme about it!

MM: hey man my wife’s calling out for help she can’t put her socks on because she’s so big now!

BF: Oh dude I’m so sorry her stomach will look like a deflated sack of potatoes, must be like trying to climb a mountain for sex.

MM: man let’s not get into lockerroom talk right now.

BF: dude you sound like a girl. You know if you just grab her buy the pussy and shove it in. That fix how tired you are. Once you're done sit down with a beer and wait for her to make you dinner.

MM: I’m really tired I gotta go.

BF: a man you’re no fun anymore know you’re connected to the ball and chain.

MM: okay man I’ve really gotta go.

BF: bro you’ve got no balls, stop being a snowflake.

MM: takes deep breathe let’s put sigh.

WIFE: oh Hunny you look so sick are you okay?

MM: I think I’m coming down something.

WIFE: alright I’ll make dinner lie down and rest.

MM: I think I need to quit my job.

WIFE: your CEO again?

MM: Yup.

WIFE: why do you let him treat like that?

MM: because I need to support you and the kids I don’t want to lose my job.

WIFE: do you want me to call him and say that our kids sick?

MM: DONT YOU THINK I TRIED THAT! JUST STOP BEING SUCH A BITCH! IM TIRED JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!

WIFE: okay hun go to bed you look sick and need a rest. I love you.

MM: love you too. I’m so tired.

Late that night MM goes to the liquor cabinet and drinks to try to sleep.

Feels overwhelmed sees the gun in the safe next to the cabinet.....

NEWSPAPER THE NEXT DAY

WIFE PUSHES GOOD BLOKE TO THE EDGE PREGNANT WOMAN FOUND DEAD WITH TODDLER IN ARMS.

CEO AND BESTFRIEND: He was the best bloke I knew I never saw it coming he never told me. She was yelling at him a lot lately I just didn’t think he would ever snap, it must have been a nasty fight. You see women abuse men too.