#to cover for the fact that the thing they actually have a problem with us discussions of transmisogyny
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gluttonousgoddess · 2 days ago
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As a simple example, that 8 glasses of water thing was a lie spread by scientists that were partnered with Gatorade. Just drink when you're thirsty.
Diamonds and bacon are in a similar boat. People love them mostly because of advertisements. That's why diamonds cost so much, too! Now, granted, gems are pretty, and bacon tastes good, but the ads did more harm than good.
And cutting calories doesn't work because calories are just how much energy it takes to boil it in water, and your body runs to use whatever nutrients it can when it has a deficit. It's not uncommon for it to eat at your muscles and other soft tissues instead of fat. As ironic as it is for someone like me to say, the best diet for losing weight is a balanced one. Sugar is the main issue, btw, not fat. In fact, fat is healthy for you, gets turned into lipids which can be beneficial for brain health. Now that doesn't mean you should just eat fat, it's all about balance and moderation. Grease is in a similar vein, it's not quite the best for you but a bit here and there won't kill you. And frankly, a bit of a belly is good for humans, it protects the body from bludgeoning and slashing damage. Sure, it'll hurt like hell, but you're more likely to get a punctured innards or have them fall out if you are thin than if you have some fat blocking the way. The main danger is the oily fat that surrounds organs, not the kind that covers your body. External is fine, internal is dangerous.
Then there's the BRAT diet. While it is easier on your digestive system, it can actually make diarrhea WORSE because the food is so soft it leaves acid left over. Same with grapes and meal substitute drinks. Especially meal substitute drinks! Liquid diets in general do this, but these are the worst because you drink enough to fill your stomach, prompting it to generate acid...for something that is pretty much already digested...I think you see the problem.
Everyone knows cold helps with swelling. Problem is, swelling is important for recovery, and putting ice on it actually slows recovery down. You actually want to put warmth on it! You want more blood to the area, because it brings nutrients and cells that fight infections.
As well, everyone knows to use IcyHot, right? Wrong, the chemicals used to make that work, especially the stuff that directly puts it on your body like the rollers, actually damages your skin and can lead to skin cancer!
And then there's Red 40. A synthetic chemical that also gives cancer!
Everyone knows you have to cook meat. Problem is, the smoke and char that can cause leads to cancer too. Not the meat itself, though. And I still don't trust any meat that isn't well done. Way too risky. You do know there can be germs inside the meat, right?
Everyone knows vaping is supposed to be a safe alternative to smoking. Problem is, water vapor in the lungs can easily lead to mold and infections. And the nicotine is so concentrated it's actually worse than cigarettes!
And my personal favorite, everyone knows Pokemon Gen 1 was held together with duct tape and dreams, except the glitches actually occur due to them using things to make other things happen. For example, having the name "Old Man" show up is done by storing your name in the town Pokemon tables. Those get reset when you enter a new route. But the area by the islands are coded to be water tiles within the city in the English versions. Not an issue, just program an encounter table for them...oh, right, since it's an English oversight, there was never an intended table. Really the easy fix would have been to extend the routes to include those edges. But yea, the reality is that the games did so much with what they had that hiccups occur. Same with Gen 2, that's why you can get a Celebi by using Beat Up, same index number. Gen 3 they got enough space to not have to be bleeding edge, so their glitches are from things interacting in ways nobody expected, like Glitzer Popping.
So yea, there's nothing wrong with fact checking "common knowledge", because we learn new things all the time. Common knowledge could easily be lies, or misunderstandings, or assumptions.
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juney-blues · 2 months ago
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trans women talking about how they're treated is infighting. treating them that way in the first place is normal.
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sanstropfremir · 2 years ago
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i sent the flower ask, yeah i know dances were always made to go viral, i mean tiktok trend specifically as it being very bad and way too simple. even if you compare it to other newer girl groups whos main target is tiktok trends too, it feels like choreographers picked the simplest possible moves that dont even fit just so that it can be replicated by literally absolutely anyone within 2s
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yay855 · 2 days ago
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And the thing about fascism is that it's inherently unsustainable. It promises the moon, blames all the world's problems on (usually poor) minorities, then does absolutely nothing to actually help the few citizens it supposedly cares about. Nazi Germany was running its economy into the ground after a major economic depression, promising the rich whatever they wanted in exchange for immediate support; a lot of American companies like IBM, Kodak, and Ford directly supported the Nazi regime because they were promised the moon, same as everyone else- but the truth was that the Nazis had no actual plan for stabilizing their nation. They ransacked whoever they could to desperately pay off the debts they incurred from their ransacking, and as the war went on Germany's infrastructure crumbled and its people became fed up with the Nazis' false promises. "Nazis were bad but at least the trains ran on time" is propaganda, their trains didn't work half the time, let alone actually stick to a strict timetable.
And the thing is, these new Nazis aren't just recreating the originals' plots, they're running it on an accelerated timeline. It took Nazi Germany about 12 years to collapse, six of which were before they started invading everyone- and now Trump is trying to push the US into going to war both conventional and economic with at least four different countries while the average wage relative to the cost of living is at an all time low (something he is making worse by trying to take away social programs like the ACA and firing so many government employees), the actual level of support for the minority he's trying to target (transgender people) is far higher than the public support for Jews was back in 1933, and most of the US government is still intact and fighting him. Congress is too spineless or complicit to do anything half the time, but the courts are very much fighting back, and so are people; there have been big protests across the country on the 5th of every month for a bit now, even if the news organizations aren't covering them or anything else about how people hate Trump.
Nazis have always been extremely incompetent; they're not successful or brilliant, they're just aggressive and hateful enough to get enough people riled up to steal power. Because the simple fact is that every single representative government is built on the idea that those in power will at least pretend to act in good faith, and those who won't can't get in a position of power. But that's simply not true, the people who seek out power are almost always the ones who can't be trusted with it, and they're also the ones willing to lie and cheat and steal to get their way.
Their entire shtick is demanding everyone respect and obey them until there's nothing left holding them back. Refusing to cooperate is how they're stopped.
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yzzart · 8 months ago
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WHEN I WAS LED TO YOU... ── KENJI SATO
── summary: Kenji could get used to his routine, but, only with you by his side.
── word count: 982!
── warnings: F!reader, nothing intense, mention of Emi and Mina, Kenji being a little needy.
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“Come on…” — A voice, entering the melody with softness and familiarity, passed through the player’s ears. — “…i know you’re awake.” — The statement was accompanied by a laugh.
Kenji could easily — in fact, completely — conclude that that voice belonged to an angel; even though he doesn't admit to being so religious, openly. — By having his eyes closed, in satisfied tiredness and drowsiness, he was more likely to believe in his conclusion.
Even in unpleasant, unstable situations and, insanely, worries about his life — like worrying about his stats in games, trying not to destroy the city while fighting some monster, and teaching Emi something practical and not blunt — and not wanting to hear or see nothing in front of him, Kenji had his refuge; a place to feel safe and at peace, at home.
“Ken…” — You voice pleaded, with more sweetness and, trying, to mix a little seriousness. In addition to moving between the thin, silky sheets of your body, wanting to get even closer to the boy.
In fact, he could melt into the bed, right there, just to hear your voice crying out to him like that.
Releasing a brief sigh, and pulling a breathing line, inhaling your scent, which was stuck to the pillow, Kenji tried to communicate with a mumble; which even he himself had no chance of understanding. — Perhaps, his consciousness still remained trapped in his sleep.
Because you found his action funny, your laugh, a little more hoarse, enveloped Ken's ears again; automatically forming a placid smile on his lips. — Moving his head, the young boy, with his eyes sensitive to the light, comes across your image resting on the pillow and covered, just enough, with the white sheet.
Sato was mentally grateful for the privilege of waking up every day with this vision.
"Good morning, my love." — You said, without holding back your wide smile; something that captivated and welcomed Ken's chest. — Your orbs moved, without haste or greed, across the boy's face, memorizing, for countless times, every little dot that existed in the region.
"Morning..." — He replied, followed by a yawn and another grumble; a sudden and unexpected movement was caused in the bed, obviously, it was the player's body snuggling against your. — Like he wants to fit in with you. — "What time is it please…?"
“Hm…” — Your eyes crossed the clock next to the bed. — “Soon, it will be 9:30.” — With his head buried in your neck, Sato let out a whimper, causing a tickle.
“It’s not possible…” — He complained, almost whimpering; as a sign of caress, your hand entered your lover's soft black hair, causing affection and tenderness.
The oldest settled down, and, briefly, relieving a growl, memorizing a purr; feeling on your skin, a satisfied smile adored by the attention. — A true paradise for young Sato and he had no problem admitting it.
“I think someone forgot about the interview they promised for today, right?” — He definitely forgets; by the way his head moved from where it was, and how wide his eyes were, Ken had nowhere to run. — “Yeah, you forgot.” — You raised one of your eyebrows.
“Wasn’t it due tomorrow?” — He questioned, still not believing and with some messy black locks standing out on her forehead. — “I’m sure i had it scheduled for tomorrow.” — He rushed into words. — “Actually, i’m not so sure.”
End of the season, therefore, decisive games for the team and more efforts towards a high level of dedication; it also meant several interviews and moments of questioning about the games, his teammates and his personal life. — Sato understood that it was important, of course, it was part of being a baseball star, however, when trying to balance his life as an Ultraman, a player and, recently, the father of a giant baby lizard, it wasn't such a simple thing.
He wasn't alone, not to mention Mina, and, thankfully, he had you by his side. — Trying, as much as possible, and persisting in helping him; even when, thinking about your care and certain risks, he warned you that he didn't need it. — Evidently, the guidelines were not followed, for a pleasant reason. — And now, seeing you taking care of Emi, as if she were your child, lit up Sato's eyes.
“It really is today, Ken.” — You confirmed it and, unsurprisingly, another wave of mumbles and incomprehensible words and rolled eyes. — “At least, it will be the last one before they enter the rest period.” — Your hand moved along Sato's long, strong, bare arm, reinforcing his attention.
“At least there is a bright side.” — He murmured, shaking his head, prolonging his thoughts, at the same time, reusing the contact of your hand against his skin. — “I need to take a break.” — He said, turning towards you. — “Urgently.” — Like a somewhat defenseless creature, he returned to his comfort, now, with his head under your chin.
"I know, honey." — Your fingers stroked Kenji's hair, for the second time, while his arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you, with the need to keep you close to him. — “And you will soon.” — Subtly, and delicately, your voice soothed him. — “Don’t worry about Emi, i’ll take care of her for today.” — Kenji thanked, once again and mentally. — “And maybe we’ll make a list of what we can do during these days off and she’ll go along with us.”
Your boyfriend's familiar, radiant laugh spread throughout the room, resounding in your chest. — For a short time, Kenji had understood his relationship with Emi and achieved a paternal image; visibly, it wasn't just him. — The small, and immense, baby witnessed you as a second mother.
“Yes, yes, of course.” — He pulled away, coming face to face with you, looking into your eyes, in pure ecstasy and passion. — “You’re the best, dear.” — Bringing his lips to your forehead, Kenji gave you a long, careful kiss.
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autolenaphilia · 4 months ago
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This post has been in the back of my mind ever since i saw it last year because it is a mask off moment for a usually more subtle transmisogynist. : I blacked out the account names being accused in the screenshot above, because i don't want to be spreading fake transmisogynistic callouts around even to be criticquing them.
Like "trans women are sexual predators who use their identity as queer women as cover to prey on children and other vulnerable people, and liberals are too afraid of being called transmisogynistic to stop them" is like the basic transmisogynist narrative. It's literally the terf narrative about trans women. This is the real terf rhetoric, not trans women criticizing (trans)misogyny.
Yet it is still so common among ostensibly transfem-accepting liberals/leftists. Like trans women using their identity as a shield against legitimate criticism of their predatory behavior is such a common trope in queer spaces that claim to be against terfs. This is because TME people use hating on terfs as a substitute for dealing with their own transmisogyny.
This is extremely common among people in the callout culture transmisogyny fandom like the screenshotted blogger.They go for this line about "transfems using their identity as a shield against genuine criticism" all the time when their obvious if lightly veiled transmisogyny is pointed out. This is their main argument, their own shield against criticism. And it rings very hollow when these people call out transfem after transfem as sexual predators based on them liking harmless kinks like fauxcest and CNC, literally using old radfem arguments against kink.
What this sort of thing is, is the denial that transmisogyny even exists. A claim that instead of being an especially oppressed class of women, we are actually a privileged group. And terfs here are open about saying it's because we are men and have male privilege. The more subtle kind of transmisogynist, the "trans women are women, terfs dni" crowd, leaves the trans women have male privilege bit unsaid but implied.
And of course it's false. As people are surely aware, being transfem makes you more likely to publicly accused of being a sexual menace. And they are most likely false accusations. Accusations against the privileged and powerful, like cis men, are seldom false. The social power that these men wield make it dangerous for any victim to come forward.
Accusations towards members of marginalized groups like transfems, however, are easy and safe to make, because they don't have that kind of social power or privilege. Their position in any social setting is tenuous, and it's easy to turn the group against them to exile them. Transfems don't have the power to defend themselves even against the flimsiest of accusations, while privileged men can defend themselves even against the most well-documented ones. Transfems are instead more likely to be victims of abuse, and then DARVOed by their abusers, being accused of abuse when they were actually abused.
The fact is that transfems can "scream transmisogyny" but few TME people, including other lgbt people, are not likely to listen.
And this is not a "white girl" problem despite what the screenshotted post implies. This problem is far worse for black transfems suffering from transmisogynynoir, and other non-white transfems. Read writings written by black transfems like Position of Guilt: Black Hot Allostatic Load by Anonsee Storyweaver.
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sunderwight · 8 months ago
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Cumplane where Airplane, in a fit of either bravery or insanity or positive or negative self-esteem (he's not totally sure) decides to cosplay as Luo Binghe and post the pictures online.
Of course, he doesn't do it as "Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky", he knows he has some questionable fans and doesn't really want to hand them a picture of his face. So he posts the images under one of the pseudonyms he uses for lurking around the comment section and social media tags. It's just a handful of images of him looking like the protagonist in his head, attempting to strike cool poses in a wig and some period clothes (he rented both).
The reception is... mixed. Airplane does not have abs, after all, nor a flawless complexion or much skill with makeup. He is fat, freckled, and awkward. The PIDW readership is not known for being particularly supportive either. In fact they're mostly a crab bucket of negativity and masculine posturing, so he gets a lot of mean-spirited commentary.
It's fine. Nothing he hadn't expected. Really solidifies for him that posting was a fit of madness, actually! What did he even expect? He's bracing himself for the worst when he sees that Peerless Cucumber, notorious hate-reader and defender of Luo Binghe's honor, has commented. Ah, shit. He's probably going to rip into Airplane for daring to sully his precious Binghe's reputation by dressing up like that, isn't he?
The comment is long, too. Fuck. Airplane's not sure if his self-esteem can take a comprehensive beating from the champion hater himself, but he's too curious not to look.
Shen Yuan, in the meanwhile, is just pleased that there has FINALLY been a Luo Binghe cosplayer who looks the part. Of course Luo Binghe wouldn't have exaggerated muscles, those are just a product of dehydration. Binghe spent most of his disciple years running around chopping wood and hauling laundry, and then later doing whatever he could to pack on the calories in order to make it through the Abyss. A hefty workman's build would only make sense for him, anything else would be nonsense. Airplane also described Luo Binghe as having a beautiful face, which Shen Yuan won't blame most cosplayers for not being able to just make happen, but a beautiful face doesn't mean "covered in so much makeup it looks like an anime character"! When would Luo Binghe have the time or inclination to put on makeup? A natural beauty with some inevitable blemishes would make more sense and be much more appealing, and this "Airplane Crashing to the Ground" (funny play on the author's name, Shen Yuan approves) has very pretty features! Everyone hating on this cosplay is just an idiot, the only actual problem is that his wig is poorly fitted.
So in true Peerless Cucumber fashion, he lays this all out.
This gets him embroiled in arguments with several other fans, who even accuse him of actually being the guy in the photos, claiming that there's no other reason why he would defend them. Shen Yuan doesn't care if people think that's him, because that's still the best Luo Binghe cosplay he's ever seen, but he doesn't want them doubting the sincerity of his arguments. So, he decides that the only reasonable thing to do is dress himself up in cosplay as well and then post the actual photos of himself.
While he'd like to dress up as one of Luo Binghe's allies like Mobei Jun, or maybe someone cool like Yue Qingyuan, he is too pedantic to think he could pull that off. Those guys are all strong warrior types, and Shen Yuan is a scrawny pale rich kid who looks like he'd probably lose a fight with a wet paper towel. The only characters he could plausibly pull off would be some of the more consumptive members of Binghe's harem and maybe, maybe, one of the weaker villains like Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Yuan is NOT posting pictures of himself crossplaying to the central nexus of toxic masculinity itself, so... Shen Qingqiu it is!
Poor Airplane has to go sit and stare at a while for a while. Peerless Cucumber likes his cosplay. Peerless Cucumber, ardent defender of Shang Qinghua's sellout crappy main character mary-sue, thinks Airplane is good-looking enough to cosplay as him. And said so. Repeatedly. And then posted borderline thirst-trap villain cosplay of himself, inadvertently revealing in the process that he is hot.
What the. What. What?!
Anyway, Shen Yuan suggests that they attend the next convention both cosplaying together because Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky is supposed to be doing a meet & greet at that one, and wouldn't it be fun to go as a pair? And Airplane agrees before his brain catches up and he realizes that might present a problem.
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fastandcarlos · 3 months ago
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What Baby Wants, Baby Gets : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: he might try and guilt you for making him go out in the early hours to satisfy your cravings, but you won't let him win
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You couldn’t help but smile as Max groaned beside you, his arms stretching up before his hands ran over his face, head tilting to his left so that he could glance across and take a look at you. 
“Morning,” you whispered, resting your head down against his shoulder. “Did you have a good sleep?” You then asked, sniggering as Max scoffed, his head immediately shaking across at you. 
In the early hours you found yourself struggling, unable to push the thoughts of your cravings to the back of your mind. For a while Max managed to ignore it, but eventually he made the mistake of asking if you wanted something, only for you to tell him yes. 
It felt like a figure of speech when you first fell pregnant, with Max telling you to get him if you needed something, wherever, whenever. But he didn’t quite imagine himself actually being woken up at two in the morning with you begging him to help you out. 
“Last night was a one-time thing,” Max told you, covering his mouth as he let go of a yawn. “Do you know how long it took for me to fall back to sleep? Especially with you snoring right beside me.” 
An apology came from you, but so did a chuckle as Max glared down at you. As soon as your craving what satisfied, you found yourself easily able to fall asleep, not worrying about Max and the fact that he was now the restless one tucked up beside you. 
Although he teased, he was relieved to see you resting though, knowing just how little sleep you were getting with your baby constantly reminding you that he was there. 
“I do appreciate what you did last night,” you whispered, brushing your hand gently through Max’s hair. “You didn’t have to get up and run to the store.” 
“I did, because I promised that I would always do whatever I could to help you,” Max reminded you, kissing against the top of your head, “and what baby wants, baby gets.” 
Your head nodded as Max trailed one of his hands down to rest against the top of your baby bump, his smile wide as he felt just how big it was again, knowing that you were already nearing the halfway mark. 
“I know for a fact that this little one appreciates what you do too, they were feeling particularly peckish last night,” you added, pressing a kiss to Max’s shoulder. 
His eyes rolled as once again you used the baby to get to him, knowing that if there was one person that he couldn’t say no to, it was definitely your baby. 
“I can’t wait for when the baby arrives so I can tell you to go and get your own food again,” Max joked, “you won’t be able to treat me like your slave anymore.” 
“You’re so dramatic, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy all of this.” 
It wasn’t exactly his favourite thing to do getting up in the early hours of the morning, but knowing that he was helping you out did fill Max with pride. 
“Maybe I’d enjoy it more if you asked at a decent time,” he laughed in response. 
“I don’t think I get much of a choice, if you’ve got a problem, bring it up with your child instead,” you smiled, tapping against your baby bump. 
Max’s eyes watched over you carefully as you moved closer into his side, moving one of your hands to rest against the small of your back. A groan came from you as you tried to get comfortable again, a game that you had been playing with your child for several weeks now. 
“Do you think the baby knows the most inconvenient times are to be annoying to us?” You asked Max, hearing a chuckle come from him. “Why can’t they be restless at lunch? That would be perfect.” 
“I don’t think they’re smart enough to tell the time yet,” Max sniggered, squeezing around your frame. “It’s going to get easier, hopefully the cravings will stop soon.” 
Your head nodded as Max tried his best to reassure you. Whenever you were struggling, he was right there with you, somehow Max always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better, making sure to hold onto you too to let you know that he was there. 
“It’s going to be alright,” Max whispered closely to your ear, “whatever comes our way then we’re just going to take it on together and find a way to figure things out.” 
You hummed as Max spoke, a lot more doubtful than he was. If he could, Max would read just about every baby book, watch every documentary, absorb as much knowledge as he possibly could to make sure he knew exactly what to do in every possible situation. 
“If it’s not morning sickness it’s cravings, and then once that finishes then it’s going to be the lack of sleep, soon enough I’m not even going to be able to see my feet.” 
Before you could continue, Max quickly shushed you. “And I’ll be there to help you with all of that, no matter where we are or when it is.” 
“I thought you didn’t like the early hours?” 
Max jabbed against your side as you teased him, knowing that regardless of the time he would always be there. It hurt him a lot seeing you so uncomfortable so often, he wished that there was more that he could do to make your life easier than it currently was. 
“If I were you, I’d make the most of me running around after you,” Max grinned, “because once the baby is here, they’ll be the only person I’ll be waking up at three o’clock in the morning for.” 
“You mean to say you’d leave me to fend for myself?” 
“Absolutely,” Max jokingly smiled, “you’re capable of getting up and sorting yourself out, a little baby isn’t quite as developed as you are.” 
“I’m spending nine months growing this child of yours, just in case you’ve forgotten that,” you quickly reminded him. 
“I know, I’m just messing with you,” Max assured, squeezing your frame. “I might have to cut myself in half so one part of me can look after you and the other look after the baby, that way I might just be able to be in two places at once.” 
“I’ll be alright,” you whispered, only for Max’s head to shake, refusing to let you take care of yourself straight away once the baby arrived. 
It didn’t matter whether you were pregnant or not, injured or in peak condition, Max loved looking after you and would always do so, regardless of how much you sometimes protested against him. 
Now more than ever he was glued to your side, he’d tease you and mess with you but he wouldn’t have it any other way, being able to help you was one of the things he enjoyed the most at the moment. 
“I can’t wait to see how things play out over the next few months, how big of a change is about to take place in our lives,” Max mused, resting his head on top of yours. 
“I’m terrified,” you admitted, “no one can predict how this is going to play out, there’s a fear of the unknown lingering in the back of my mind right now.” 
“You don’t need to worry,” Max assured you, “no matter what happens, we’re going to face it together, I’m going to be right here with you.” 
“Even in the early hours of the morning?” 
“Even in the early hours my love.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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evilminji · 10 months ago
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Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>
Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?
He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.
What're you? A cop?
Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.
Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.
But see, here's the THING.
The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...
Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.
There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)
He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!
Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.
That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.
Poisonous, though.
They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.
Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!
Who's Coffee Is This?
Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!
You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.
He's shouting.
People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.
Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!
He TACKLES the man of steel.
RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!
And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.
He'll move in a moment.
When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.
The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.
They never do.
And now he's nearly killed Superman.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles
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wifelinkmtg · 1 year ago
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TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT
So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"
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The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?
And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?
INTRODUCING: THE DITCH
There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.
And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?
So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.
Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?
There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.
Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.
There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.
Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.
And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.
There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...
SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]
We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?
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Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)
In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.
So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.
Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:
Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?
Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?
SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU
There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.
The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.
There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.
A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.
Do you get it now?
ENDNOTES
It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.
I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.
I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.
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misc-obeyme · 7 months ago
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Side Characters as Doms Headcanons
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And here we are, as requested by multiple anons lol. Yes, this includes the three newbies. I was thinking it was taking me forever to write this part, but actually it's only been a week since I posted the bros? Huh. Anyway. Enjoy!
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GN!MC x the side characters
Demon Bros as Doms Side Characters as Subs
NSFW MDNI
Note: As usual, the warnings on this are off the charts but most of it's just briefly mentioned.
Warnings: Sub!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, shibari, dacryphilia, begging, overstimulation, praise, degradation, humiliation, biting, hickeys, roleplay, orgasm denial, edging, spanking, demon form, tail stuff (Barb you heathen lol), somnophilia, manhandling, collaring, whips, chains, magic stuff (do I even have to say who), aphrodisiacs, multiple orgasms, blood kink, exhibitionism, titles, jealousy, after care, I hope that's it sheesh.
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Diavolo
Doms the same way he interacts with people - generally indulgent, amused, curious, and soft, but push too far and you’re no longer dealing with friendly Diavolo, but the Next Demon King. He prefers to pamper you, but he won’t show leniency to a brat for very long.
He’s also acutely aware of the fact that he is one large, powerful, and strong demon and you are but a fragile human. Even when you’re being punished, he’s gentle with you. His favorite thing to do when you get out of line is to overstimulate you. He wants to hold you in his lap with his fingers inside you, making you come until you cry.
Diavolo is vocal, he spends a lot of time praising you. He’s not really into degradation or humiliation. He wants to tell you how perfect you are for him. He wants to coo in your ear when you’re begging and whining. He’ll call you all sorts of sweet pet names.
Diavolo also likes to dress you up, usually with pretty ropes and a blindfold paired with something like a really expensive necklace. He likes to see his status displayed on you. If you ask for something specific, he’ll buy you the most fanciest and prettiest one he can find.
He also loves to leave his mark on you. His favorite is biting, he’ll be sure to cover you in his teeth marks. He also enjoys sucking on your skin and leaving hickeys all over. Too much bruising stresses him out a little because he’s worried about hurting you too much. But if you’re clearly enjoying it, he’ll keep going.
He won’t do exhibitionism, but he’s okay with close proximity type situations. Actually gets a lock installed on his office door because he really really wants to roleplay with you in there. Sometimes he has a hard time keeping a straight face when doing this, but he manages to school himself. Because he’s waiting for the moment when he can bend you over his desk and lose himself in how good you feel.
Barbatos
Another one who has two modes. Barbatos is a fair dom, but he’s also strict. He’s less indulgent than Diavolo and he’s less hesitant to punish you if you’re being bratty. He has no problem using all forms of punishment and will generally use whatever seems to work best for you. His personal choice is orgasm denial. He’s going to bring you to the edge, maybe multiple times, but never actually allow you to feel that sweet release. If you protest, he’ll just smile and shake his head. It’s meant to be a punishment, MC.
Don’t think that means that’s all he’ll try though. If he finds you respond better to other forms of punishment, he won’t hesitate to switch tactics. Whether he’s spanking you or overstimulating you, you’ll know he means business the second he takes his gloves off.
If you’ve really messed up, though, he won’t even bother with the gloves. That’s when you know you’re really in for it. Barbatos almost never loses his cool, so if you’ve managed to do that, watch out.
He likes to dom in demon form. His tail is useful for all kinds of things, like restraining you or gagging you. It also reminds him of the time when he wasn’t as restrained as he is now. He lets himself go just enough to make things exciting, but not enough that he loses control of the situation.
Barbatos is into just about anything and everything, so if you’ve got some kinda kink, be sure he will use it to his advantage. Oh, you like biting? Good, so does he. Now you're covered in bite marks. Perhaps you enjoy a little somnophilia? It's fine, he enjoys that, too. He'll be sure you're dreaming about his cock.
He likes it when you’re needy and when you beg for him. He can hold back and not touch you at all for a long time, letting you squirm and cry. When he finally does touch you, it’s soft and subtle and almost makes things worse.
Sometimes, he’ll go all out instead. When this happens, you find yourself absolutely exhausted. He’ll make you stay with him the whole next day so he can take care of you. Won’t let you go to RAD or do anything else. He just wants to pamper you.
Simeon
A very gentle and soft dom, Simeon is incredibly indulgent with you. He prefers praise to degradation and he’ll shower you in it. He likes to call you sweet names, too. His favorite thing is just to touch and kiss you. He wants you under him so he can kiss all the way up and down your body, running his fingers along your skin.
You really have to push to get him to punish you at all, but if you go that far, he will put you in your place. You’ll need to brat like no brat has ever bratted to make it happen. But Simeon can quell a bit of a bratty outburst with nothing but a command. When he issues it, there’s a tone in his voice that speaks volumes, even though he’ll still be smiling at you.
If you keep pushing, he will warn you multiple times because he just wants you to be good for him. But eventually, he’ll give you the punishment you so clearly deserve. He doesn’t really have a preference himself, so he’ll do what he thinks will be most effective. He tries different things with you until he finds the one that works.
Surprisingly good at resisting begging. He won’t give in right away if you’re whining and crying in his lap, he’ll let you carry on for a bit first. He likes to listen to your pleas, he thinks you sound so cute.
While he doesn’t particularly enjoy hurting you too much, he does like to manhandle you. He’ll pick you up and move you around as he sees fit. He’s stronger than he looks and he likes to have that control over you. If he puts you into a particular position, you had better not move yourself from it.
Too shy outside the bedroom to allow much of a dynamic there, but he will absolutely give you a Look if you’re acting out. It’s his way of saying you might want to re-evaluate your behavior unless you want to be dealing with the consequences later.
He has a bit of a dark side that you can tap into when you're being really unmanageable. Don't worry, he'll have confirmed your safewords before ever starting anything, so if he's suddenly too much you can use them. But when he flips that switch, you'll find he can be unexpectedly harsh with you. He gets a certain look in his eyes and his voice gets very quiet. You've really decided to push him to his limit, haven't you, MC?
Solomon
Solomon is able to step into dom mode at will and when he does, he’s really good at it. He knows exactly what to do to make your silly little sub heart flutter. He won’t hesitate to keep you in line outside of the bedroom, usually by giving you a little squeeze or even an ominous smile. He likes to have you wear a collar all the time. He’ll corner you somewhere a little out of sight of anyone else, hook a finger into your collar, and whisper words of warning in your ear.
When it comes down to it, Solomon is willing to do anything at all. He’s a pretty fair dom and will always give you space at first to be a little bratty. But it doesn’t take too much to push him and then he’ll deal with you quickly. While he will switch up punishments to whatever works best, he likes spanking. He just wants you to fall apart in his lap.
He will employ anything and everything that will get a good reaction from you. Ropes, whips, blindfolds, gags, etc etc if you can think of it, he will give it a go. He likes to use magic to restrain you, though. If you really have a thing for ropes, he’ll use them sometimes, but his magic is so much more effective. He has all kinds of saucy little spells that make you feel all kinds of sensations~
Solomon wants to make you have multiple orgasms and he will employ aphrodisiac potions to do it if he needs to and if you agree. He just loves to watch you come over and over again. He wants to make your brain stop working for a bit.
He loves to praise you, but he enjoys dirty talk, too. You'll probably get a bit of a random mixture of them.
Solomon also enjoys cockwarming. If he's having a long night in his lab, studying ancient spells, he'll really appreciate you sitting in his lap as long as you can. He loves the way you squirm. He'll tell you to stay still, but the amusement in his tone is evident. If you keep moving like that, MC, he's going to have to do something about it. He won't make you wait too long because in the end, he gets impatient too.
He's very attentive when it comes to after care. He likes to dom and to have fun with you, but he also wants to remind you of how important you are to him. He'll pamper you, hold you close, kiss you, and tell you that you're his everything.
Mephistopheles
By far the meanest of doms. It depends a bit on what you respond to and also what mood he's in, but he's generally not going to give you an inch. Sometimes he's in a softer mood and he'll be a little nicer, but even then it's not by much. He expects you to follow his orders and be grateful about it. When he's like this, he won't tolerate brattiness. If you push, he'll double down and you won't like when that happens. He'll get stubborn and he won't indulge you at all.
He'll use all kinds of methods or punishment, but mostly it’s going to be edging and orgasm denial. He wants you to beg so he can ignore it. He’ll be sure to tell you it’s your own fault for thinking he’d go easy on you.
Mephisto will mostly use dirty talk and degradation, delivering praise only when you’ve really earned it. He likes to see you cry, so he will do everything he can to make that happen. If you do start, that’s the only time he’ll soften just a little. He’ll wipe away your tears and tell you how good you’re being for him.
He has a blood kink. He wants to see your blood on your skin and he will bite you. Leaves all kinds of marks across your body, mostly with his mouth.
He’s into exhibitionism and semi public sex. He gets cocky and wants people to know that you belong to him. Loves it when you wear a collar visibly. Doesn’t hesitate to grab you or whisper threats if he thinks you’re acting out in public.
Despite all this, he gets incredibly soft when it comes to after care. This is when he pampers you. Instead of threats, he's now whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He gets embarrassed about how much you matter to him, so it's easier for him to be mean. He might even confess all this to you in these quieter moments. He'll gently kiss every mark he left on your body. He'll tell you that he hates how much a human matters to him. Don't you see what you've done to him, MC?
Raphael
He's a little skeptical at first. You want him to do what exactly? It isn't that he's innocent, but he's not sure he understands the appeal. Give him some time and he'll fall right into it easily enough. Raphael seems like a strict dom, but he's more lenient than he first appears. He's just quiet, won't give you a lot of orders, really.
He does like to tie you up. Shibari is especially intriguing to him. He likes taking the time to create masterpieces out of rope on your body. He likes the way the ropes leave marks when he finally unties you. He'll kiss along the places where they were, indulging in the feeling of your heated skin.
Raphael might not think of it himself, but he'll lose his whole mind if you use a title for him. Call him Sir or Master and he'll be the one blushing like crazy. He'll be able to control himself, but he'll ask you to do it again.
He's more into praise than anything, he likes to tell you how good you're being. If you're being bad, he gets quiet. You'll know you're in trouble when he's suddenly not talking much. Perhaps giving you short one syllable responses.
Punishments will really be just about anything. It's whatever he's in the mood to do and whatever he thinks will get the message across. Fortunately, he finds that just giving you a certain look is usually enough to quell you. Because you'll find his punishments are quite harsh, so it's better to avoid them. Of course, if you really want to be punished, all you have to do is push a little harder.
Raphael is not super into exhibitionism, but sometimes he feels the need to pull you into an empty room, especially at RAD. He is surprisingly jealous. If he thinks you're getting too cozy with anyone else, he'll make sure you haven't forgotten who you belong to. Do you suppose it's fun to push his buttons that way, MC?
Thirteen
Don't worry, MC. She will absolutely step on you if you want her to. Thirteen is not shy about domming, she will agree immediately. She's willing to do whatever you want - whatever gets you to react. She'll try praise, but if she finds degradation or humiliation work better, she'll switch to that. Either way, though, she likes to keep her hand in your hair, so she can pull it whenever she wants.
She enjoys biting and blood. She will leave her marks on you, whether its with her teeth or her nails. She likes the way it looks on you, but she also likes the sight of your blood on her fingertips.
Thirteen will tie you up, blindfold you, and gag you. She'll make you wear a collar and leash. She will go all out, she's not holding back at all. She expects you to behave and if you don't, she'll deal with you readily.
Punishments can vary, but she likes to watch you squirm. Whatever does that most effectively, gets you crying and begging, that's what she'll go for every time. She'll try spanking, edging, orgasm denial, even stuff like whips and chains. She likes to come up with unique ways to restrain you or punish you, like she does with her traps.
Will not hesitate to use magic on you. Spells, potions, whatever she can find that will have the desired effect. She likes to overstimulate you. She'll use aphrodisiac potions to keep you aroused for hours. She loves to watch you cry and whine and mumble her name because you've forgotten yours.
Thirteen will get jealous and she'll sometimes feel the need to remind you of your place if she thinks you're getting too friendly with someone else. This generally consists of a hand on your arm, a simple look, or a single word. She doesn't need to make a big show of it, but all of those things get you to back off. And you know you'll be hearing about it later.
In the end, she's going to take care of you. She may go all out, but she always ends with praise, soft kisses and caresses. She tells you how good you are, how perfect for her, how much she just wants you to be hers and only hers.
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demon bros as doms | demon bros as subs | side characters as subs masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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girlgenius1111 · 8 months ago
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responsibility
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you are reluctant to share the problems you are having at home with your teammates. your teammates just think you're an irresponsible teen. it takes an emergency for things to come to light. barça x reader, though this first part is much more platonic alexia & reader. more team involvement to come. cw: some violence / abuse. a lot on grief and the loss of a parent. this is mostly desperately sad angst with some comfort sprinkled throughout.
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Your father was drunk. Hammered, in fact. You’d seen the empty bottles scattered around the kitchen when you walked in from training, telling you that he’d gotten an early start today. You were on your guard as soon as you’d noticed that, but you only pushed your dresser in front of your door when he began to pound on it, and yell. Some of the things he was saying were completely unintelligible, while others were completely clear. What you could understand was not anything new. He rambled about your mom, and how much he missed her. About how horrible it was that she’d died and left him stuck with you. How you drained away all his money playing football, and how he was tired of how ungrateful you were. 
Normally, he didn’t do anything. Normally, the yelling was the extent of it. Sometimes, though it went farther. He’d grab you, or push you, kick you out of the house. When that happened, you’d go to a friend's place and sleep there, only coming back in the morning when you knew he’d be passed out. 
Only very rarely did he actually hurt you. The occurrences were rare enough that you could pretend it didn’t happen. You covered the bruises up with makeup if you had too, and ignored them. You told people they came from training until you started to believe it yourself. 
Tonight felt different, though, and you knew why. It was your parents anniversary. Any faint reminder of your mother only seemed to inflame your father’s hatred for you. He’d never wanted a kid, but your mom had, and that man had worshiped the ground she walked on. So, your parents had you, and you enjoyed a happy little life for 15 years. And then your mom got sick, and then got sicker. 
You thought losing her would be the hardest thing you’d ever do, but as you sat on the floor of your bedroom, you decided that your father hating you because your mother was dead was somehow 100x more painful. He hurled abuse at you through the door, and when the dresser tipped away from it, crashing loudly onto the ground, you were more afraid than you’d ever been in your life. 
You barely had the forethought to grab your phone and slip it into your pocket before your father shoved his way into the room, a half full bottle of vodka sloshing in his hand. He had the look on his face that haunts your nightmares. The detached one that told you things were about to hurt. You braced yourself as he raised the bottle, hoping it would hit the window and break it open, instead of hitting you. Instead of breaking you open. 
The ground came crashing up towards you as you dropped, trying to avoid the bottle. The world went black around you, and you weren’t sure if it was from the bottle, or from the force of your head hitting the ground. 
The darkness only came as a relief. 
------
You were at Alexia’s house before you had even really decided where you were going. Your forehead was bleeding a bit, and your head was throbbing. Your shin had gotten cut, too, on the way out your window. Or maybe it had gotten cut as you’d broken the glass of the window in order to climb out. 
Realistically, you knew you should call your lawyer, who would call your case worker. Who was really the only one with the power to get you out of that house. Neither of those people made you feel safe though, not like your teammates did. Or used to. Things were fuzzy, now, blurred, and you weren’t really sure if they still cared for you. If they would still feel safe. You hoped they would, because you weren’t sure what else you would do if they didn’t. 
It didn’t occur to you that someone other than Alexia would answer the door, but then her girlfriend was staring at you, mouth agape, and you wondered why you hadn’t gone to Ingrid and Mapi’s, or Marta and Caro’s. You didn't know Olga well, weren’t even sure if she’d recognize you. She surprised you, though, turning and shouting for Alexia as her hands found yours and she gently guided you in through the door.
Your captain’s voice echoed back through the house, missing the urgency Olga had tried to convey, and you could hear her leisurely steps coming from upstairs. Olga tried to bring you into the living room, but you stopped, shaking your head. 
“Blood.” You mumbled. “I’ll get blood on the furniture.” 
Olga was looking at you with something that wasn’t pity, or sympathy. It was anger, far from gentle anger, but her voice was soft when she spoke. 
“Don’t worry about that. Come sit down, Ale is coming.” 
Numbly, you let her guide you onto the couch. Alexia caught your eye as she entered the room, her face changing from mild curiosity to one of horror. 
“Oh my god,” she whispered. You looked away from her, the expression on her face forcing emotions to bubble up inside of you. Emotions you didn’t want to cope with, didn’t want to feel at all. 
Olga walked over to her girlfriend, murmuring a few words, before she exited the room. Alexia took a deep breath, before she came to kneel in front of you. 
“Pequeña? Are you with me?” She spoke more softly than you’d ever heard. 
“Sorry. I know it’s late.” 
“No apologies, please.” She reached up to move your hair out of your face, and get a better look at the cut across your cheek that appeared to have stopped bleeding. You flinched away from her violently, and every hope she’d had that this had been an accident flew out the window. She pulled her hand away,  trying to keep her voice low and soothing.“You are okay. You are safe. You are with me, and I am not going to let anything else happen to you.” 
Nodding somewhat hesitantly, you allowed her to inspect your face, crying out when her hand brushed across the bump on your head. 
“What is it? What hurts?” 
“Fell. Hit my head on the floor really hard.” You told her, every word feeling like cotton in your mouth as you tried your best to communicate. 
“Did you lose consciousness?” Olga asked, sitting on the couch next to you, handing a towel to her girlfriend. Alexia pressed it to the cut on your shin, which was still bleeding. 
“Maybe? Don’t really remember.” 
The two other women exchanged looks, before they seemed to come to some kind of silent agreement. 
“You might have a concussion, pequeña, and I think this needs stitches. I am going to take you to the hospital, okay?” 
You considered. The hospital meant police, meant questions you didn’t want to answer. But you’d come here for help, and Alexia was just trying to give that to you. 
“Okay.” You agreed, allowing them both to help you back to your feet. Before you could take a step, though, Alexia was tugging you into the softest hug you’d ever experienced, and it took all of your strength not to crumble completely. 
“Thank you.” You mumbled shakily, voice muffled by Alexia’s t-shirt. She rubbed your back gently, using the hug to take a moment to pull herself together. 
“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve got you, okay? Everything is going to be fine.” 
You doubted that promise, all the way to the hospital. As you answered questions you were sure would make things not fine, as you got stitched up and scanned. When they took pictures of your injuries like you were some kind of victim. Especially when you told them your dad hadn’t meant it, and they exchanged disbelieving looks. It didn’t really feel like everything would be fine. It felt like everything was falling apart. 
------
“Alexia, what the hell happened to her?” Olga asked, keeping her voice low so that you wouldn’t hear from where you were sitting on the lounge in the other room. 
The blonde shook her head, face twisted with worry. “I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me in the room when they took her statement, and she hasn’t really been talking. It was her father, I know that.”
“Jesus.” Olga sighed, pulling out what she needed to make you something to eat. “They let you bring her here, though?”
Her girlfriend shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I… I signed a bunch of forms to be declared her temporary guardian. But, amor, I can take her to my Mami’s, she wouldn’t mind. This is not your responsibility, and I wouldn’t want to-”
“Do not be ridiculous. She’ll stay right here. Ingrid and Mapi are nearby, so many of your other teammates too. She needs them, and she needs you. Of course she’ll stay.” Olga said incredulously, as if she’d never considered another option. 
Alexia’s face softened before she all but tackled her girlfriend in a hug. “I love you.” 
Olga held her tight, trying to provide some reassurance. “I love you too. Now go try and see if she feels like talking. I’ll bring her something to eat in a second.” 
You startled when Alexia took her seat next to you, before trying to muster up a smile. It felt weak, and pulled at the cut on your cheek, but it was the best you could do. 
“Your caseworker texted me. They’ve arrested your father.” Alexia said carefully, watching as a myriad of emotions flashed across your face. “So tomorrow, we can go and get your stuff, and move you into the guest room.” 
That felt too good to be true, there was just no way. No way that Alexia would want you to move in with her. Why would she want that?
 “I can’t… I can’t go home?” You asked. You didn’t want to, and you did. You craved your home, but you also craved safety, and those two things were not congruent. 
Why would you want to go back there? Alexia wondered. She had to remind herself that this was more complicated than she could even comprehend, and she had no business questioning how you were feeling. It was complicated, of course it was. “No. Not by yourself, and you aren’t going back there when your father gets home, either. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 
“I can stay by myself.” You argued weakly. “You don’t have to let me move in. You don’t have to do that, I can be responsible, I can take care of myself.” 
Your captain shut her eyes tightly, guilt flooding through her. You were thinking of Alexia’s harsh words to you a few days ago, and she could tell. 
If there was anything you despised, it was being late. It was the fourth time in the past two weeks, too, and though you hadn’t really been scolded yet, you knew it was coming. Sure enough, as you practically ran through the building towards the locker room, you saw Alexia and Irene waiting by the door. Seemingly, for you. 
Your text warning them that you’d be late apparently hadn’t done anything to reduce their anger. 
You slowed down as you got to them, trying to ignore the anxiety that rose in you at the idea of being in trouble. 
“Hi.” You said meekly, stopping in front of them as they glared at you. 
“What time does training start?” Alexia asked, her voice cold. 
“10:00.” You mumbled. 
“And that means on the pitch at 10, all ready to go, yes?” 
“Yeah.” 
“What time is it right now?” Irene chimed in. 
Your face was burning with embarrassment, your eyes trained on your shoes as you refused to look up at your captains.  “10:20.” 
“This is the fourth time in two weeks.” Irene sighed. “Where were you?”
“I… I slept through my alarm.” You lied. There was no way you could admit the truth. What you were doing was your business, it was private. And you knew that if your captains found out what was going on, they would involve themselves. And you didn’t want to burden them.
Alexia’s face hardened. She felt like you were lying, but she had no evidence to back that up. And even so, she couldn’t understand why you would be lying. Teenagers were weird, she reminded herself. And difficult. 
“That is unacceptable. You are 17, yes, but you are on this team. You are expected to act responsible and prove that you care to be here. Showing up late does not prove to us that this is a priority for you. You are benched. Until you can get your act together.” 
This wasn’t the first issue they’d been having with you. You’d been distracted and distant recently. Zoning out during training, skipping team bonding. You were quieter than normal, too, which really came off as you being annoyed by your teammates. Which you weren’t, not at all. You were just trying to get through. To get up every morning like everything was mine and make it to training. To get everything done that you needed, so that you could get out of your house. Where you would go when that happened, you weren't exactly sure. With the way your captains were looking at you right now, you knew you couldn’t go to them. They were upset, rightfully so. You just couldn’t do anything right. 
“Ale-”
“No. I am disappointed in you. I expect you to be more responsible. Now go run your extra laps.” 
With a sigh and a small nod, you headed off, completely missing the slightly concerned expressions that your captains were exchanging. You just weren't yourself, and they weren’t sure what to do about that. 
Alexia hadn’t understood, then. She knew that something was off, but she didn’t know it was this bad. She’d scolded you for being irresponsible, and she knew now that was unfair. And that you’d very much taken it to heart. You’d let her help you before, when your body was in shock, everything in fight or flight mode. 
Now, you were withdrawing, just as you’d been doing for weeks. This time, though, Alexia didn’t think it was just teenage carelessness anymore, or a rebellious phase. She could deal with her guilt for not understanding, for getting everything so wrong, later. For now, she had to make sure that you didn’t completely shut down. 
“Listen to me. I didn’t mean any of what I said before. I didn’t know what was going on, but I do now. So let me help, okay? You don’t need to worry about anything. Just let me take care of it all.” She took your hand in hers, feeling it tremble in her grip. You looked conflicted, and though there were tears in your eyes, all your captain could do was look at the jagged cut on your cheek. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but she was pretty sure it would scar. A reminder, forever, of what someone who was supposed to love you had done. 
All she wanted to do was make it better. “Tell me how I can help.” She asked, doing her best not to beg. 
“I… um. I have a lawyer. I’ve been trying to get emancipated, I should call him.” 
“I’ll call him tomorrow.” Alexia said quickly, watching the cautious vulnerability dawning across your face. 
Olga walked in then, bringing both you and Alexia some food. You both ate in silence, not even the TV on to fill the void, before you leaned back into the couch and pulled your knees to your chest. You were safe, you knew you were safe, but you didn’t feel it. You didn’t feel much of anything, honestly. Your head hurt from the concussion, and the stitches in your shin pulled with every movement.
 The physical pain, you could deal with. It was the threat of feeling that terrified you. You felt a pang of emotion every time you looked at Alexia, though, when you saw the concern on her face, so you tried your best not to look at her. 
Your captain and her girlfriend exchanged looks, and Olga mumbled something about going to get you some ice cream, before she grabbed her wallet and keys and left the house. 
Within a minute, Alexia was turning her whole body towards you, completely attentive. You didn’t want her attention, but you had it. 
“What happened tonight, nena?” 
You knew the question that was coming, yet still, you were wholly unprepared for it. You’d answered the questions earlier from the police, but that had been different. They had been strangers. They’d been sympathetic but professional. As much as you’d been trying to downplay what had happened in your head, you knew Alexia would be horrified to hear what had happened. And that would chip away at your very fragile belief that it hadn’t been that bad. 
“You can tell me. Whatever happened, you can tell me.”
You decided to give her as few details as possible. “He was really drunk. He gets like this sometimes.” 
“Violent?” Alexia asked bluntly. 
“Not always. Most of the time he just yells.” 
“But tonight? It was more than yelling?” She hated pushing you, but she needed to understand what had happened if she was going to be able to help. 
You took a shaky breath before responding. “Yeah. When I got home from training, he was already drunk, yelling at me.”
“Was he angry about something?”
“He’s always angry.” You dismissed. “Always. Ever since mom… he didn’t want me, not really. And now mom is gone and he’s stuck with me. I think he hates me. I mean, I know he does. He tells me all the time. That’s what he was yelling about. How much he hated me.” 
You sounded detached, which Alexia was sure wasn’t healthy, but she pressed on anyway, knowing that you needed to tell her what happened, and only then could she help.  “What happened then?” 
“He broke my bedroom door down and threw the bottle of vodka at me. I hit my head trying to dodge it, but I think it hit me anyway. I broke the window open and climbed out. And then… I don’t really remember. Then I was here.” You went through it blankly, as numbly as if it had happened to someone else. 
“Oh, nena.” Alexia sighed, truly incapable of understanding how someone could be so cruel to you. You were shaking again as you glanced up at your captain with watering eyes and a trembling lip. “Cariño, I am so sorry this happened.” 
You shrugged one shoulder, trying to keep your tears at bay, but your captain persisted. 
“You are safe now, do you understand? I will never let him hurt you again, ever.” 
This time, there was no response from you. 
“Nena, look at me.” Alexia pressed, her eyes wide as they met yours. “You are safe with me, I promise you.” 
You wanted to believe her, you really did. Trust was hard, though. Only harder now. If your father could hurt you and not feel any remorse, what was to say other people would feel differently? What’s to say you could trust anyone? 
Alexia could practically see you come to that conclusion. Your body tensed back up, you leaned away from her, and your face grew completely blank. She wondered if she hadn’t been so harsh the other day, if you’d still be so wary of her. It wasn’t complete distrust, because you’d shown up on her doorstep and that was something. You were trying to protect yourself. Alexia couldn’t blame you for being so afraid, she really couldn’t. 
“Thank you for letting me stay here.” You told her, unsure if your shaky voice was doing a very good job conveying just how grateful you were. “I know having a 17 year old disaster move into the house you share with your girlfriend probably wasn’t something you were hoping for-”
“If I had known what was going on, I would have gotten you out of there a very long time ago.” Alexia interrupted, cursing herself when you blanched and looked at her with wide eyes. 
“I don’t get it.” You mumbled after a second. “You don’t have to do this, do any of it. Why are you doing this for me?” 
Alexia wished you were joking, wished she couldn’t hear the genuine wonder in your voice that someone would go out of their way to help you. 
“Because I care about you.” Alexia said simply. “We all do, every single member of the team. And you are welcome here for as long as you want to stay here.”
“But Olga,”
“Olga would pick up every stray dog on the side of the road and bring it home if I let her. She doesn’t mind that you’re here.” 
“I’m not a stray dog.” 
“No, you aren’t. I was just pretty sure you’d think the dog to be worthy of a home. Just like I think you are.” 
It was a jarring thought. The realization that you did, indeed, think of a dog as more worthy of a home than you were was a shock to your system. You weren’t sure when you’d stopped being so angry, and started believing the words shouted at you, but somewhere along the way, you’d lost yourself. Without even realizing. 
Alexia continued. “If Olga had driven by you walking here, and had no idea who you were, she would have brought you home. She would have done exactly what she did earlier. That’s who she is. She’s happy to have you here, happy to help. Really, pequeña. I promise.” 
You nodded, the only acknowledgement you gave her that you’d registered what she said. “She’s been gone for a while, I thought she was just going to get ice cream?” 
Alexia smiled slightly, glancing away from you. “She’s been in the drive for 10 minutes, she wanted us to finish talking without any interruptions.” 
You frowned at her and your captain tensed, suddenly worried she shouldn’t have told you that. Worried that you’d wrench away from her and resist the help she and Olga were trying to give you. 
Instead, you looked at her like she was a bit stupid. “The ice cream is going to be melted, Ale.” 
The blonde relaxed back into the sofa, a huff of laughter falling from her lips. She’d forgotten how seriously you took your ice cream. It was difficult to mesh together the two versions of you in her mind; the one she knew that was happy and carefree, except when it came to the texture of your ice cream. And the one sitting in front of her, broken. 
“Well, do you want to talk more or-”
“If Olga walks in and my ice cream is melted, this night will really be ruined.” You deadpanned, more amused at the surprise on Ale’s face than you were at your own joke. You didn’t like how she’d been looking at you. Anything to break the tension, anything to distract from what had happened. 
The distraction didn’t last long, because your head was beginning to hurt and you were too exhausted to really hide your pain. The look of sympathy returned to Ale’s face, and to Olga’s, and it wasn’t long after you finished your ice cream that you were ushered up to bed.
If the universe was kind, a dreamless sleep would follow. You were beginning to think the universe was cruel.
------ 
You liked to think that your mom visited you in your dreams. Sometimes, they were good dreams. Warm and kind of fuzzy, but unquestionably filled with love. You found that the good dreams were the hardest to remember. The bad ones were the easiest, maybe because more often than not, they were memories. 
Of course, the dream you had almost as soon as you’d drifted off to sleep was a bad one. It was flashes of a day that made you sick to think about. It had been a week after the funeral, and you’d yet to realize that the father you’d grown up with was gone for good. Though, that realization would come soon. 
A few of your friends had insisted on taking you out to grab coffee. It had been agonizing, sitting and listening to them try to distract you. It was still wallowing time, you argued. You were allowed to lay in bed in a ball and cry for as long as you needed to. Grief wasn’t a process that could be rushed.
Of course, your father would try. The dream grew hazy as it continued, flashes of memories more than anything. Your arrival home from coffee. The realization that he was stuffing your mom’s stuff into garbage bags and boxes, labeled for donation or trash. You remembered the way your blood had boiled; fury rising that he was trying to erase her. As if that would make it any easier. 
You remembered the way you pushed him away from her closet, tears running down your face. Your voice had trembled as you’d cursed at him, begged him not to get rid of all her stuff. He’d cursed right back, pushed right back. Told you that he couldn’t live in a house so full of memories of her. The way he’d said it, implying that you were nothing more than a painful reminder of her. A weight had settled on your chest when your first instinct was to run for your mom, and tell her what your father had said. 
You couldn’t do that anymore. There was nowhere to run to. You pushed him again, and he pushed back again. You fell to the floor, looking up at him just in time to see how horrified he looked at himself. He looked down at you in complete horror, shocked at himself for what he’d done. He backed out of the room, repeating apologies over and over. 
That was one of the last glimpses of the father you’d known all your life that you’d had. And it would never not haunt you that you’d been the one to make things physical the first time. That made it your fault. All of it was your fault. 
The dream ended as it always did, with you grabbing what you could from the bags and the boxes, stuffing it all into your closet. It ended with you pulling on her favorite sweatshirt, the one she’d worn the most. It smelled like her perfume still, and you got under the covers of your bed, burying your nose in the fabric. You cried, and you pretended your mom was there with you, though she never would be again. 
You woke as you always did, face wet with tears, but this time with a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach. You’d left all her stuff in the house. You’d come here without it, and you needed it. Needed it now, needed to be surrounded by her like you’d been on that day. 
It was with a blind dedication that you slipped out of Alexia’s guest bed, put some shoes on, and went out the front door. You couldn’t leave her stuff there. Not in the house that reeked of alcohol and hatred and sadness. 
------
Alexia was pretty sure she knew where you’d gone, even if she’d couldn’t understand why. When Olga shook her awake, though, and told her that she’d heard the front door shut, Alexia knew you’d fled. And she knew you’d gone back to that house. Back to the place you still considered home, somehow. As Alexia pulled into your driveway, she reminded herself that she couldn’t understand. Growing up, she’d only ever felt love in her house. She’d never been through what you’d been through, never felt anything but safe with her parents. So it didn’t make sense to her that you’d go back. Not when you’d been trying to get out in the first place. But it didn't’ need to make sense to her, because it made sense to you. And you were her only concern. 
The front door was unlocked, and Alexia opened it carefully; the last thing she wanted was to frighten you further. The house was dark and cold, and it smelled heavily of alcohol. She followed the only light she could see down the hall to what she assumed to be your bedroom. The door bore the marks of your fathers fists, the wood dented and peeling. 
Before she even stepped into the room, Alexia could hear you crying softly. You were neatly folding up clothes and putting them into a duffel bag. The precision with which you worked completely contrasted how disheveled you looked; each shirt and sweater folded as if it would disintegrate if you weren’t careful. 
Alexia paused in the doorway, not sure there was any way she could let you know she was here without scaring you. It seemed like you were lost in your head, regardless. Your face was set tightly, a grimace etched across it, but your hands trembled, and tears fell almost continuously. It was as if you were too emotional to keep your feelings at bay, but simultaneously felt too unsafe to really let go. Your despair leaked out like your tears did, a little bit at a time. 
Your captain wasn’t sure she’d ever seen someone look so haunted and so numb at the same time. 
“Pequeña?” She spoke as quietly and soothingly as she could, yet still, you jumped half a foot into the air, a fearful whimper escaping. “It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s just me, you’re okay.” 
“Ale.” You mumbled, recognizing your captain in front of you. It hadn’t even been a thought that Alexia would get up and come after you. The consequences of your actions seemed so far away, like you were just acting with no follow up. There was only the present, because if you thought too hard about there being a tomorrow, you weren’t sure you could survive it. 
“Hey.” Alexia cooed, taking tiny steps closer to you, moving like a snail. She sat down a safe distance away, looking curiously into the bag you were packing. You knew Alexia was wondering why you were here, and honestly, you were too. It had made sense, when you’d awoken from your nightmare and left her house. It didn’t make as much sense now. “What are you doing back here?” 
There was no accusation in her tone, no frustration or annoyance, yet still, you felt the need to explain yourself. “I woke up, and I just… I had to come get a few things.” 
Alexia didn’t point out that it was the middle of the night, and that certainly such a task could wait until the following day. She just nodded in understanding, even though she didn’t understand, and tried to think of another question to ask. One that wouldn’t be too much, but one that might get her some more answers. Because truly, your captain was at a complete loss on what to do here. 
“What did you need to get?” She asked casually. This was normal, she decided. She’d pretend this was normal, and maybe then, you’d talk. 
You were almost done packing the clothes. It was an odd assortment of items that Alexia had seen you place in the bag. Mostly t-shirts and sweatshirts. And she’d never seen you wear any of it before. 
You didn’t reply right away, picking up the last sweatshirt and pulling it on. It was faded, too big on you, and there was a hole in the sleeve, but your entire body relaxed once it was on. Not much, but a noticeable amount. “Just some clothes.” 
“I’ve never seen that sweatshirt before.” Alexia commented, a wave of sadness washing over her as she began to connect the dots. 
“Yeah, it’s- it was my mom’s.” You whispered. “I just really needed to get this stuff. Sorry for leaving without saying anything.” 
Alexia looked at you, seeing a younger version of herself. Wearing a shirt that was much too big on her to bed, convincing herself that if she inhaled deep enough, it would still smell like him. Even if she couldn’t quite remember what that scent even was. 
“That’s okay, nena, I’m not upset.” The blonde gazed out the window for a moment, noticing the sun peaking above the horizon. It was bathing the room in a soft golden glow, and she noticed for the first time the broken bottle on the floor. The rest of the room was warm and soft, very you, but that bottle seemed to mar the entire atmosphere. It was a stain, and Alexia understood, suddenly, why you needed the clothes. 
You wanted the sweatshirt for comfort, yes. But this room had probably been the last place in the house that had remained untouched from your father and his cruelties. And now it had been ruined, and you couldn’t bear the thought of your most favorite possessions remaining here. Especially when you’d left. 
You wrapped your arms around yourself and spoke quietly, almost as if you’d read Alexia’s mind. “This is all I really have left of her. He got rid of the rest of it but I managed to save some of her clothes. I… I just didn’t want to leave them behind.” 
Didn’t want to leave her behind. Not in the place that had turned into hell after she’d gone. 
You were trying to be strong, Alexia could tell. Jaw clenched, blinking hard. Wiping carelessly at the never ending stream of tears. Alexia remembered trying to be strong, too. How it hadn’t even been something she wanted, it was just something she did. 
“Tell me about your mom.” The request escaped without her permission, and she jerked her head in your direction fearfully, terrified that it had been too much. Your lips were turning up at the corners, though, just a bit. Tears still fell, but you did as she asked. 
“She was really funny. We had the same sense of humor, I think, so everything she found funny, I found funny. She’d tell a joke I was already thinking.” 
Alexia hummed, a gentle encouragement as she inched closer to you. You were smiling a bit more now, still in the part of remembering that didn’t yet hurt. 
“She always helped me with my homework after school, and she always tucked me in at night. Even when I was way too old for it.” 
You took a deep breath. It was overwhelming, the love you felt for her. It felt like love, but it also felt like grief. Hot, painful, lingering grief. Still, once you’d started, you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to ever stop remembering every good thing about her. 
“She used to watch videos of people explaining football strategies, so we could talk about them. Even when she was sick she still… still watched. She never missed a game, even when she was doing treatment. She’d sit in her car and watch from the parking lot if she had too, but she never missed a game. I was always the most important thing to her. She used to say that being my mom was the best thing she’d ever been, that she’d ever be.”
“She sounds like a really good mom.” Alexia’s hand was on the back of your head, combing delicately through your hair. It felt nice. Safe. 
“She was the best.” You choked out. “She gave the best hugs, and she told me she loved me everyday. And I really really miss her.” You tried to swallow the sob that threatened to force its way out, but you couldn’t. Your grief couldn’t be contained, not anymore. It was an almost unconscious movement, turning to bury your face in Alexia’s sweatshirt. Your body shook with cries, and your captain wrapped her arms around you tightly. As if she could hold you together. 
You appreciated Alexia, more than you would probably ever be able to express. For being so patient, for coming after you, for asking about your mom. For hugging you and holding you tightly as she promised that everything would be okay. But Alexia wasn’t the person you wanted. 
The blonde didn’t understand the first time you said it, your words muffled by the soft fabric of her sweatshirt. But the second time, she did, and it felt like her heart was plummeting out of her chest. 
“I want my mom, Ale,” you sobbed. “I just- I want my mom,” 
She felt your words in her soul, and in that moment she would have done anything to give you what you wanted. It didn’t work like that, though, and she knew that all too well. So, she rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head. She rocked you gently, and made promises. To herself, and to you. 
“I know, I know you do.” She soothed. “I’m so sorry, cariño. Everything is going to be okay. I’ve got you.” 
You only cried harder, and Alexia felt like crying too. 
Nothing felt okay. But Alexia had you, and you believed that. Or at least, you wanted to.
------
Well. Have a good night everyone. tell me if you notice any typos 🥺. also tell me if you enjoyed this because i am so incredibly unsure about it.
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psychoticallytrans · 2 years ago
Text
There's this idea, fairly common in society, that mental illness is for teens and up. Children are happy little creatures, generally, right? Sometimes they're abused and the trauma can make them mentally ill, but that's not common.
There are two fundamental problems with this attitude. One, it's incorrect to assume that trauma is the only reason a young kid can be mentally ill. Two, trauma is more common than people think. I'll be covering the first problem in this post through the lens of my particular experience.
Where I live, you can be diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old. You cannot be diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a minor. This poses a problem because my age of onset was in first grade, roughly six years old. Because of the fact that I was very young and new to the world, this was also the age of my first suicide attempt. Thinking I wouldn't be able to pass a spelling test genuinely felt like something worth trying to die over. So, I ate some hemlock, since I'd read about Socrates being killed with it. Luckily, I ate western hemlock, an unrelated species, and just felt kind of sick.
I'm not recounting that for fun or pity. I'm recounting it because children with mental illness are in genuine danger because they have little to no experience with managing their emotions, have little to no concept of the idea that their life can change and improve, and are dismissed by adults. I told a teacher that the test made me want to die, though not that I'd attempted to, and it was brushed off as little kid hyperbole. If I had used a method that was effective rather than one I thought would be, I would have been dead at six years old.
I would not receive medication that worked even a bit for another two years. I would not receive treatment for bipolar disorder specifically for ten years, and that required my PCP fudging the reason for the medication because she was afraid I would die if she didn't, and diagnosis was still two years off at minimum. I received a formal diagnosis at age 19, thirteen years after onset.
But surely that's uncommon, right? This story is a huge edge case, right? I actually have no idea, because age of onset and age of diagnosis are massively conflated for most disabilities. Policies like the one in my area that restricted bipolar diagnoses by age can artificially raise the age of "onset", in my case by thirteen years. The general idea that children are somehow immune to mental illness can also delay diagnosis by several years, perpetuating the idea that young children can't be mentally ill. The data on when people start experiencing mental illness is inherently skewed upwards, and I frankly don't have a good estimate on how bad that skew is. If anyone does have that data, please chime in.
Listen to children. If they're saying they're sad all the time, that they don't care about anything, that they don't see a future for themselves, those are signs of depressive symptoms. If they say that tests make them feel sick, that they can't do anything because they're scared, that they can't breathe and freeze up, those are signs of anxious symptoms. Many children talk about imaginary things, and that's just fine, but slip in a question or two about them to make sure that the kid is just playing, and not experiencing psychosis.
Children are new to the world and vulnerable, and they don't know what's normal and what isn't. They need people who are more experienced watching out for problems they might be having, and listening when they talk about having problems. If you can, try to be the person who perceives them, and tells them that things can be better.
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honeyedfate · 1 month ago
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operation: no hate, just date | 심재윤
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pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader
the objective is clear—make both of your fans believe that you and jake, in fact, don’t hate each other by convincing them that you’re actually in love. which you are. sadly, jake doesn’t get to shout it from the rooftops like he desperately wants to. instead he’s trapped in an elaborate plan that’s moving at a snail’s pace, but one night on weverse with the boys might speed things up.
genre. fluff & very very mildly suggestive
a/n. this is the second part to loverboy! you can read it by itself if u want but it might be more fun if u don’t lol enjoy! x
[ › first part ][ › third part ]
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it’s been a week since jake and you were pulled aside and shoved into a meeting room where an unforeseen entourage informed him that he sucks at being your boyfriend but makes for a great arch nemesis. he had left that intervention feeling annoyed and his privacy violated, but at least they had a plan. whether that plan is a good one is still up for debate.
grey sweater guy from pr keeps responding to yuki’s plentiful emails with stupid roundabouts of how patience is a virtue and playing the long game always benefits the player. the problem is jake has no patience, and the only person who seems to get it is you.
which is likely why even after the fourth facetime call of the day, his darling-angel of a girlfriend has yet to tell him to piss off. he keeps peeking at his phone, which he has propped up against his pillow, only to begrudgingly return to his scattered lego set, positive he’ll crash out if he doesn’t hear your voice soon.
when the call finally connects and you appear on the screen, it’s like watching the sun rise. jake can feel the tension leaving his body and a lopsided smile curving over his lips. he’s hopeless, really.
you grin through the phone, hands in your hair as you tie it back, and say by way of greeting, “yunjin showed me a tiktok earlier.”
abandoning whatever he was building, jake scoots closer to his phone. “what was it about?”
“us, of course,” you say cheerily, and jake swears his heart skips a beat. not because he’s anxious of what you’re about to say but because it happens every time you refer to him and you as an item. an entity. it’s embarrassing but he kind of likes it. he likes being an idiot for you.
“someone put together a bunch of clips of everything we’ve been doing this week and it blew up on twitter.” you gently rub your oil cleanser over your face.
jake perks up at your words. he didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed any of the stuff he was told to do as part of the stupid plan. an unsettling concoction of excitement and terror swirls in his stomach. “what did they say?” he asks, fiddling with a lego piece.
you take a moment to wipe off your eye makeup, scrunching your nose when jake calls you a panda. “apparently people have been noticing how close we stood on the encore stage and that we kept looking at each other. it’s funny—i didn’t realise in that moment, but when i watched it back it looked like you’re either creeping up on me or you’re extremely terrified.”
jake tilts his head. “terrified of what? you?” he furrows his brows. “i just looked at you a couple of times like they told us to.”
“i know you did.” you turn off the faucet and grab a towel to dry off your face, trying to keep the amusement in your voice at bay. “but, babe, you’re either staring me down—unblinking—or you’re casting glances at me like you’re scared i’ll turn around and jump you.” you can’t help but giggle. “someone commented, ‘i can’t tell if jake is contemplating if he should push y/n off the stage or if he should throw himself off it.’”
jake gawks at you with his mouth agape. “that’s what they’re saying?”
you nod. he falls backward with a groan and covers his faces with his arms. “i can’t believe it. that’s what it looked like to them? really?”
“i know.” you say, more amused than empathetic.
“that’s crazy,” he says, pushing himself upright again, hair sticking out even messier than it had before. “i’m actively trying to act like a lovesick fool—which i am! don’t even—and people still think i’m trying to break your neck? that’s insane.”
you hum supportively. “at least some people believe you were offering to break your own neck for me. that’s romantic, right? we might be on the right track here.” you keep your tone playful, but jake looks at you with his starry eyes and pouty lips, resembling nothing short of a kicked puppy.
“i’m sorry i keep messing this up,” he says and the thinness in his voice makes your heart break.
“jake, you’re not messing anything up.” he looks at his hands, avoiding your gaze. “you can’t control these things, people will interpret and perceive it however they like. it’s always been this way, and it’s always been out of our control. doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”
“i don’t know, y/n,” he says quietly, and the sight of him hanging his head has you nearly sneaking out of the dorms and going over to his. you’ve never seen him look this miserably at a lego set before. “if i wasn’t so awkward and knew what to do, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”
“no one’s perfect and all-knowing.” you pick up your phone with a frown. “and why do you keep calling it a mess? is that what you think this is?” you enter your room and get into your bed. jake looks up at the sounds of your blanket and wishes desperately he was there with you.
instead, he loosens a breath and sweeps the lego pieces onto the manual, placing it on the floor and going under the blanket as well. “what else should i call it?” he says. “it’s not a blessing.”
you ponder his words. “a mess would be our sex tape getting leaked or people making up rumours that we’re drug dealers or cannibals.”
jake cocks his head. “like hannibal?”
“i meant more like in ‘bones and all’ but sure.”
“oh.” he scratches his face. “well, we’re neither of those things. we also don’t have a sex tape.” the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“no, we don’t.” you pout, forcing a mock sigh. “but we could always make one? ‘operation: no hate, no date,’ am i right?” you waggle your eyebrows at him, prompting a wry smile to flicker across his face.
“they’ll watch it and come to the conclusion that i hate you even more.”
you huff a laugh. “we will probably also get kicked out of hybe and have to start slinging fishcakes on the street. which sounds like fun, to be honest. oh! we could make our own jingle and sing it for our customers. maybe we won’t even have to make the fishcakes if we’re successful enough.”
this earns you a laugh. “that’s just busking, baby. what you want to do is busk.”
you gasp in fake surprise before settling for a rueful sigh. “i am but an artist.”
jake presses his lips together as if to say ‘good riddance, what tragic calling’ with a saddened face before the two of you dissolve into giggles.
“okay, i get it.” he turns to lie on his side, face squished against his pillow. “going from idol to man with leaked sex tape who sings on the street and runs an unsuccessful fishcake stand would be a mess. but this is not?”
“correct.”
“i’m so relieved then.” he grins toothily at you and, of course, you reciprocate it. an involuntarily yawn slips through your lips and jake coos at you.
“is my girl tired after working hard all day?”
“she’s exhausted,” you affirm with bleary eyes. “you seem chipper for someone who’s usually drooling on his pillow by midnight.”
jake shrugs. “i’m not sleepy yet.”
you hold back another yawn. “do you want me to stay awake until you are?”
he smiles at you fondly, relishing in the softness of your drowsy voice. “it’s all right. you should go to sleep, baby.” he glances at the clock on his phone. “i think i’ll go live for a bit. haven’t done one in a while.”
“aren’t we feeling chatty tonight,” you tease, eyes fully closed now. jake swears he actually dies at how cute you look and smashes that screenshot button repeatedly. “i’ll leave you to it then. greet engenes for me.”
he grimaces. “if i do that, you’ll get your jingle and fishcake dreams fulfilled by tomorrow morning because we’ll both be unemployed.”
“sounds lovely.” you rub your eyes.
“yeah,” jake merely whispers, attention span momentarily off the rails as his doting gaze traces your face. he takes another screenshot for good measure. “good night, pretty girl,” he says tenderly, raspy voice and all. “see you tomorrow for the dance challenge and the fishcakes.”
a giggle bubbles out of you, and you crack your eyes open to offer your best, dozy smile. “and the busking. don’t forget the busking.”
“i would never. i’ll even steal one of jay’s guitars.”
you nod, pleased. “we’ll be on the run like bonnie and clyde. except for all the atrocities, of course.”
jake helplessly swoons. “i love you.”
“i love you too. good night, baby.”
the intensity at which his pulse quickens and his stomach tumbles needs to be studied because it should not be humanly possible to be so goddamn whipped. he’s not ashamed to admit that he could write lines upon lines of poetry right now just to ode your every quality and marvel at the curve of your mouth.
again, hopeless. but he’s more than okay with it.
so what if he flips onto his stomach right after the call ends, smiling blissfully into his pillow and kicking his feet? he might not be a lover boy, but he is in love.
with that same crooked smile that is probably etched onto his face forever, he opens the weverse app on his phone and opts for a voice live. as the first few people pool in, he gets lost in mindless chatter. it’s always nice to do lives at night. mainly because they make him drowsy.
at some point, he gets up for the bottle on his desk, hoping that chugging some water will wake him up. but when he returns to his bed and glances at his phone, comments keep flooding in at a speed that make them very hard to read.
“what’s this?” he chuckles nervously. “what happened? i just went to get some water.”
enhaswife: jungwon is live!! go live with him plss
sim hitomi: jungwonnie is live~~
xo, liz: CAN U GO LIVE WITH JUNGWON ‼️
“jungwonnie is live?” jake raises a brow. “that’s actually pretty early for him. it’s not even one yet.” he settles back into his bed. “i was here first though, so you guys have to tell him to come. tell him to come send a request.”
he watches the number of viewers decline rapidly, all of them seemingly leaving to do his bidding. he wields too much power and it might actually go to his head, he thinks to himself in amusement. “i told him,” he reads out loud. “i told him, he’s coming, i told him. you guys are so cute.”
not long after, the request pops up and jake is quick to accept it. his screen splits in two before jungwon’s eager face appears before him.
“yooiii,” jake greets him with a wide smile.
“yoooiiii,” jungwon practically shouts into his phone with excitement that is more appropriate for daylight hours. “what’s this? why aren’t you showing your face, hyung? are you naked?”
“what?” jake guffaws, adjusting his phone. “no, my hair’s just all over the place. engenes don’t need to see me like this.”
“oh, okay.” jungwon nods understandably as his eyes flit over the computer screen before him. the song that’s currently playing in the background changes to a more calm melody, and jake sinks further into his blanket, nearly letting out a moan at how snug he feels. “he’s bald, by the way.”
jake jolts so hard he nearly tumbles out of his bed.
“jungwon!” he watches as the comments explode into chaos. “oh my god, what have you done.”
the younger boy ignores him. “ni-ki shaved his head after practice, you know. he got the clippers from hair and makeup and went right at it. they weren’t too happy about it, but it went well. thankfully, i am so happy to announce that our hyung does not have an egghead.”
jake burst out laughing, glimpsing how jungwon’s smile expands with delight when he hears it. “i nearly lost an ear, but yes. all’s good.”
“he gave his hair to jay,” jungwon continues for no apparent reason except to bring jay into this. “he put it in a nice ziplock bag and gave it to him. jay almost cried. he was really touched.”
jake is clutching his sides, trying to keep his laughter down. before he can speak, a highlighted message pops up in the comments.
JAY: Ya! Why are you ruining my image
JAY: When jake gave me his bag of hair I wept
JAY: I wept.
JAY: Get your facts straight punk
“hyung!” jungwon says delightfully. “you’re here too. what’s going on, why are we all awake? is this a party?”
“it’s just us three here,” jake remarks, still chuckling. “what party only has three guests?”
jungwon shrugs. “i’ve never been to one.”
JAY: Me neither
jake cups his neck, deciding to join them despite the fact that there are plenty of pictures of them at several afterparties. “me neither.”
JAY: Wow
“wooow,” jungwon echoes, lips tugging into a smirk. jake frowns. did he miss something? before he can address it, a comment stands out to him.
“yes, we are a sad bunch,” he says jokingly in response to it. “you’re breaking my heart, engenes. no need to rub it in.”
jungwon snickers. “these comments are so fun tonight. i usually only get song recommendations. seriously, what’s happening? where are all my engenes who ask me to play chamber 5 for the eighth time?”
JAY: It’s because I’m here
JAY: I bring the smart ones
JAY: Also can you play chamber 5
“it’s my live.” jake scoffs when he reads jay’s comments. “they were here before you two came, and we always have very stimulating discussions.”
that’s not true. earlier’s heated topic of conversation was whether a tiger or a tiger shark would win in a fight. but jungwon and jay don’t need to know that.
“oh, hey, we’re tripple j,” jake randomly observes while suppressing a yawn.
“we are!” jungwon says enthusiastically. “the moment jay came in, all the comments were saying tripple j. imagine if all of our names started with a j. septuple j!”
JAY: Junghoon
JAY: Jeeseung, junoo, ji-ki
JAY: Annyeonghasaeyo, jenhypen-imnida
jake snorts. he glances at the time and lets another yawn overtake him. “guys, i think i’ll go to sleep. i can barely hold my eyes open.”
“i was waiting for you to say that,” jungwon quips.
“oh?” jake pushes himself up to fluff his pillow. “why? do i sound tired?”
JAY: Ow hay weor wibble j
jake furrows his brows, nearly suffering a stroke trying to read that. “hah. you’re funny.”
JAY: yoar wonny
“ahjussi, please go to bed,” jake says fondly and pulls his blanket up to his ears, letting it almost swallow him. “you’re talking gibberish again.”
JAY: :(((
jungwon ignores them, typing away on his keyboard. “i think i’ll continue my live for a bit if engenes want to join me.”
“yes, keep him company, guys.” jake yawns once more and quickly skims the comments one last time. his mind has become delirious, not really making sense of any of the words on his screen. he’s no longer thinking straight. he’s not thinking, period. which might be why his focus zeroes in on your name as it passes by.
he scrolls back up, looking for it, and finds himself reading it out loud without a second thought.
“do you want me to fight y/n for you?”
he lets his arm fall over his eyes with a funny expression on his face that no one can see and that he’s not even aware of. a mental image of you occupies half of his mind while the other half has simply shut off.
chuckling, he replies, “nah, i can take her.”
it goes quiet in the room as jake’s breathing evens out and jungwon’s typing slows down.
“hyung,” he says with emphasis, a warning tone laced in his voice. jake blinks an eye open, way too tired to grasp the gravity of what he has done. jungwon, on the other hand, is close to breaking out in hives as the comments go ballistic.
jay is not of much help either. he has left the live to message the group chat, asking if they’re now in trouble and if they’re going to kidnap you and jake again. from what jungwon can gauge based on the rapid fire notifications he’s getting, jay’s coming in clutch with quotes and screenshots of the comments, and heeseung’s immediate reaction is to cackle away.
enhaswife2: wiat whaT DID HE JUST SAY
myseven: oh REALLY >:( y/n count ur days
sunoo’s gf: you sure about that? I can fight
xiiuu7: leave y/n to me, i can handle her for you
jake reads the comments through fluttering eyes, somehow finding it all very entertaining. “oh, i take her just fine, thanks.” he rolls onto his stomach, eyes closed, smiling like an idiot, and mutters into his pillow, “i’ve handled her in more ways you can—”
his door slams open.
not a second later, jungwon stands before him in his pyjamas and snatches his phone out of his hands, breathing heavily. it lands next to jake on his pillow with a thud. screen now black.
“hyung, have you gone mad?!” jungwon stares down at him in bewilderment, his own phone in his hand lightening up every microsecond. “are you actually insane? why would you say that into the microphone?”
jake blinks up at him. “what?”
another person joins them. “what’s going on?” sunoo’s socked feet pad over the floor as he pulls down his headphones, regarding the two of them carefully. “i heard doors slamming.”
wordlessly, jungwon passes him his unlocked phone. it’s opened to a twitter account transcribing and translating in real time what had just been said on their live, including jake’s slurred but still perfectly understandable words. in other words, stan twitter is going insane.
sunoo gasps, eyes widening with each tweet as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. he’s reading all kinds of things—engenes who are losing it and speaking of you, your group, and your fans as if there’ll be a sword fight at dawn.
your fans who are thoroughly disoriented and confused but ready to go for blood anyway because ‘what does he MEAN he can take her?? take her WHERE?????’
and people who don’t even listen to either group but are dying over the comedic timing of jake uttering those words, jungwon hurling himself out of his chair, his footsteps thumping in the hallway, the doors banging, and the live ending all under two minutes.
some people also seem to believe that jake is bald for some reason? sunoo shakes his head in disbelief. it’s like the internet has been bored for too long, and this has revived them.
an eternity must’ve passed now, and jungwon is still lecturing a very sleepy jake whose words and actions have finally caught up to him when sunoo suddenly yelps. he practically tosses the phone in the air, and both boys turn their attention to him. with a gulp, sunoo flips the screen around and holds it at an arm’s length.
“yuki is calling.”
jungwon exchanges a look with jake before he grabs his phone. “hello?” he says, clearing his throat. sunoo leans in to try and listen. jake, on the other hand, stays frozen on his bed, not even daring to breathe.
a heavy sigh sounds on the other line. “jungwon?”
“…yes?”
“there’s a change of plans.”
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saymio · 28 days ago
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Who's most likely to force reader to sleep with someone for money. Basically forcing her into prostitution.
Hwang inho
Thanos
Nam gyu
Myung gyi
Player 388
Player 246
_🎀
A/N: omg??I LOVE REQUESTS LIKE THIS I make them quickly n I have fun nyehehhehe.
contains: thanos, namgyu, inho, gyeongseok, daeho
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Thanos
I see him doing this the most, does not gaf about what happens to you, doesn't even try guilt tripping you into saying yes he just tells you the two of you need more money and that you're going to sleep with guys for it one random night. you cry and plead for him to not do it for actual hours but he ignores you and basically turns into your pimp and keeps all the money you make from then on. "its for us baaabee" is all he tells you when you express concerns about what he's spending all the money on...and of course you believe your sweet boyfriend.. when your landlord personally came to your apartment door and told the two of you that you were late 4 months of rent you exploded. this was the first time you stood up for yourself, yelling at Thanos and asking why he even needed the money if it wasn't for 'us'. Thanos just found this amusing and funny. he paid the late rent and forced you to keep selling yourself off. more than before. now you're just stuck in this loop of sex work with no way out..you knew Thanos would kill you if you left..
2. Namgyu
he's similar to Thanos, but less aggressive about it and manipulates you more into it. uses your financial position as a reason to start doing it. (that he's the reason you're in) will try to sway you into it as well, "just for a weeekk you're debt will be covered and you could live the normal live you've always wanted babbyy." he'll say all this while he's hugging your back and whispering it into your ear. if that doesn't work he'll start using his position to convince you. "we need the money babe!! I'm broke, I can barely afford food. if you start doing this we'll have enough for my debts and food...don't you want me to be happy?" he'll beg and beg for weeks until you finally give in. once you do he basically does what Thanos does but only give you a small portion of the money telling you "its all we made" when it clearly wasn't.. but you believed him, your boyfriend wouldn't force you into this just so he could take the money for himself!! doesn't even use if for his debt or said food he was so lacking of. he just buys drugs and nice things, ingoring the fact he has a group of men going for his neck.. he doesn't let you stop once you say your week is over, he forced you to keep going and if you quit he'll leak all the videos he took to everyone you knew.... so you really had no choice but to keep doing this until he thinks he's had enough money.
3. Inho
i don't see him forcing you into sex work in person, but I see him forcing you to sell your nudes and sex clips online just for the fun of it. he obviously doesn't need the money to take care of you or himself he just finds it amusing how uncomfortable and upset you get from it. will take tons of photos and videos of you on his cock while you beg him to stop and that it makes you uncomfortable. he loves seeing you in pain, it turns him on like crazy. will force you to read all the comments and messages you get from your little twitter account, he doesn't understand why you're so upset!! random guys on the internet think you're hot and would fuck you any day of the week just like him. what's the problem with that? will buy you a ton of tiny lingerie and toys and lock you into a room for hours until you make a certain amount of content for your 'fans'. doesn't like to admit it but he jerks off to your photos almost every night
4. Gyeong seok
he wouldn't do it unless he REALLY needs it..like now. he wouldn't be like namgyu or thanos that takes all the money just for nice things but uses it so he can put food on the table and pay his daughters medical bills. will 100% manipulate you into it, but it'd be really subtle. "you know how nayeon is really sick right...she really needs the money.. i- im sorry for asking but would you ever like..sleep with a man for money.." acts like he'd accept no as an answer but really wouldn't, he knows this money is valuable and will do anything to have you say yes. "nayeon would be really happy if she could finally treat her cancer" "nayeon's been really hungry these days" uses his daughter as more reason why you should say yes. you're his girlfriend and you love nayeon, right? you should do this small favor for her... you end up saying yes only after a few weeks and gyeong seok doesn't make it a secret that he wants to take all the money so he can put food on the table and pay the important stuff for his and his daughters needs. he thought you'd fight back but you just accepted it, you wanted to help your boyfriend and maybe by doing this he'd finally marry you once he gets back on his feet like he tells you.. he doesn't really know how to feel about you sleeping with other men but he knows he's the reason for it so he cant complain.. 100% fucks you again when you get home so you remember who you actually belong to. it makes you feel better about everything that's happening.. wont force you to keep selling yourself off once he pays off everything he needs, will just try his best to provide for both and nayeon like he should be doing.
5. daeho
he doesnt, I KNOW! IM SORRY! I KNOW BORING, THROW TOMATOES ALL U WANT!! I just don't see him doing this like AT ALL. would rather work 6 jobs at the same time than ever force you into something like this.
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A/N: I feel like this highkey sucks but oh well. noeul fic is prolly dropping today or tmr doe YAY #writersblock
TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf
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dovveri · 8 months ago
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ordinarily
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synopsis: you’re having a few issues with your sex life so you decide to start seeing a sex therapist with your boyfriend
warnings: reader receiving, cheating, lots of sex talk bcs this entire fic is literally set around sex, fingering, clitoral stimulus, vibrators, dildos + strap on, sana watches reader masturbate
w/c: 7.8k
a/n: if u didn't know im a psych student and this idea came to me at 3am while cramming sexual dysfunctions for my finals and i ltr wrote this in a few hours bcs i was OBSESSED - that being said this is all still fictional bcs... let's be honest i js wanted to have sex with dr sana but some of the facts are still real! the treatment however... not so real LMAO
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“ms. l/n?”
“yes!” you scramble upwards at the sound of your name, pulling your boyfriend up with you and walking briskly towards the woman who’s called you. she offers a kind smile, gesturing for you to follow her.
“is it alright if i bring my boyfriend along?”
she nods, “yes that’s fine. it’s actually customary that both partners are here for appointments like these.”
she leads you towards her office, a clean, organised room with a small couch next to the doctor’s table and chair, and what looks like an upgraded version of a classic examination table.
she seats you both and rolls her chair forward so she’s facing the both of you when she talks. “so how can i help you today ms. l/n?” her eyes are kind, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“u-um just y/n is fine dr. …” you glance to her badge, “minatozaki.”
“alright y/n. sana is fine for me too then.” she smiles.
“r-right sana. so we’ve just been having some trouble with our- um- sex life recently and i think it’s mainly my fault.”
she frowns a little, picking up a notepad on her table to jot down some things, “why would you think that?”
“um well- i- i haven’t um- i’ve never had a penis in me before. my previous male partners would only ever use their hands or mouth but because we were getting a little more serious than that, i wanted to let ben-“ you glance at your boyfriend who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat a little, “be the first and we’ve tried for a while now but it’s always just too painful? and i know everyone says the pain passes and whatever but it never seems to pass for me…” you blush, getting progressively embarrassed as you go on.
"i see. do you mind if i ask you a few questions about your sex life?"
you nod, feeling intimidated by the things she's jotting down into her notepad.
"how long has this been going on?"
"umm- i'd say we've tried to have penetrative sex for about 2 months now?"
"have you ever experienced anything like this before?"
"no."
"do you have any history of previous mental health problems?"
"not really, no."
"when you attempt to have sex, do you engage in foreplay?"
"u-um... yes."
"and are you able to secrete natural lubricant from that?"
ben lets out an undignifed snort. you elbow him, face burning red when sana looks up from her notepad, narrowing her eyes at ben who shrinks in his seat, covering his mouth.
"u-um yes i think so."
"ben? is this true?" sana's eyes are locked on ben.
"sorry doc are you asking me if my girlfriend gets wet?"
"for lack of better words yes."
"well yes she gets plenty wet. i always make sure she's turned on before i go in. if you’re asking about if i'm good at sex then yes. i am. plenty of girls in the past have cum because of me."
"i didn't ask that but thank you for your contribution." sana says a little sarcastically, looking back towards you and then down to her notepad. you elbow ben again in response who glances at you slightly annoyed, the tips of his ears red.
"what sorts of foreplay activity do you engage in, does it arouse you, and on average how long would you say your foreplay would go on for?"
"i- um- i-"
"this is a safe space. everything i'm asking is purely for diagnosis reasons, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, i deal with lots of clients everyday who come in and have talked about much more bizarre things and none of them are nearly as attractive as you are which makes it a lot worse when someone comes in here claiming they have sexual proclivities towards aliens or otherworldly beings."
you blush, the throwaway compliment in there didn't fly past you. "do people really ask about that?"
sana chuckles a little, "oh you'd be surprised the things people come in here about."
you laugh a little in response as well, feeling more comfortable around the doctor, "um well i guess we do all the normal stuff. kissing, whatever, um it usually lasts about... 10 minutes?" you turn to ben who shakes his head a little so you correct yourself, "20 minutes maybe. and um yeah i guess it does arouse me."
sana hums, making a few more notes, "are your nipples sensitive? your breasts? does he play with them? what about your clitoris?"
"i- um- yes... to all of those."
"have you ever orgasmed before?"
"i- yes."
she senses the hesitation in your voice, looking up curiously, "have you orgasmed during sexual relations with ben?"
you shuffle in your seat a little uncomfortably. ben looks at you expectedly, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes.
"yes. yes she has." ben replies for you instead when he realises you're not responding.
sana's eyes cut to his with a scowl forming on her face, "did you know only 64.4% of women are able to reach their orgasm during sex? and that number is even lower when the sex is just penetrative? in comparison, 91.3% of men reach their orgasm, in fact, sexual dysfunction in men is actually more common when men orgasm too fast."
ben raises an eyebrow defiantly, "your point doc?"
"that it's normal for women not to reach orgasm. and normal for them to fake it when their boyfriends are pretentious assholes that think they have the best game in the world but in reality, have inflated egos that would easily be shattered if he found out he wasn't as good as he thought he was. most of these women care too much about hurting their partner's feelings than to tell the truth."
ben leans forward aggressively, ignoring your protests for him to sit back down, "i don't know what kinda whack patients you got in here doc but i'm not one of them. i don't need anyone to worry about my feelings like you women do."
sana rolls her eyes, not backing down from his intimidation, "do you have any problems with sexual activity? come too fast? not able to get it up? not able to come?"
ben sputters, "w-what?! who do you think i am?!"
"it's a yes or no question."
"no! i don't have any of those problems! i told you i'm not one of your weird patients!"
"alright that's all we'll be needing from you today. i think this session will be much more productive for y/n if you leave the room. so if you'd please-" she stands up and opens the door, indicating for him to leave.
"what? you can't just kick me out! this is my girlfriend! i'm just as involved in this as she is!"
"actually, since you haven't admitted to having any problems with sex, and you've both said that foreplay and arousal is adequate, there's nothing more that involves you. so yes, i can kick you out."
ben looks back at you, his face red, but you push him forward, "just go ben don't make a scene. i'll see you outside." he frowns, sending a final glare to sana before stomping out the room.
sana closes the door softly after him, settling back down with a sigh.
"i'm so sorry about him i didn't know he would react like that i-"
"it's okay y/n. this is actually quite common. sexual dysfunction is often severely underreported in men, because of the masculine standards they put themselves up to, lots of them won't seek treatment. that's why most of the clients we get are women who come in here with their boyfriends, and a lot of the time these boyfriends don't think they have anything to do with the women's sexual dysfunction, and a lot of them can't accept that they do."
"but you just said-"
"i know what i said. and it's true that if your foreplay is indeed enough and arousing for you, and that this isn't because of any sexual dysfunction he may have, then it no longer directly regards him. however, just because it doesn't directly involve him, doesn't mean it's got absolutely nothing to do with him. i do think i have an idea of what you're going through, but to confirm i'd like to ask a couple more questions if that's okay with you? and hopefully you can be fully honest with me now that ben isn't here."
you shuffle in your seat a little. "yeah of course."
she smiles, going back to her notepad, "so backtracking a bit, i'm assuming ben hasn't been able to make you orgasm?"
you blush, shaking your head.
"how about with previous partners? is there anything they've done that's helped you reach that orgasm or are there any similarities you can think about between them?"
"mm well for one, i've only ever been able to come when i'm with women."
"oh?" sana looks up again over her specs, a twinkle in her eye.
"u-um yeah and with them it's mostly um, using their hands or oral, and even then i normally need at least some clitoral stimulation to come. i have tried using dildos before but i also find it a little too painful, but i'm at least able to bear it when it's with a woman, with ben i kinda just push him off because it's all too much."
"i see. that's quite normal. most women do require clitoral stimulation to be able to orgasm. a very small proportion of women are actually able to come from penetration alone. do you masturbate?"
you blush again, fiddling with your fingers, but her friendly smile reassures you, "yes. well- less since i've been with ben because he doesn't really like it when he finds out i've touched myself. he gets a little offended and always says i don't need to masturbate when i have him. he takes offense because he thinks i'm doing it since he's not doing a good enough job or something."
"hmm." she hums, jotting something else down, "is he doing a good enough job? i know you said foreplay was fine but i just wanted to check in on that again."
"he's alright i guess. like most men i've been with in the past he does kinda rush things a little, and he does do foreplay it's just a little rougher than i like sometimes. i also think um-" you blush, eyes flickering around the room.
"mm?" sana smiles gently again, encouraging you.
"i think he has trouble finding my clit? or i don't know he always kinda fumbles around when he fingers me so his hands always brush against my clit a little too rough and then he presses down on parts where he thinks it is and asks me if it feels good."
sana hums again, writing down some more notes before the next question. "so back to masturbation, before ben, how often would you say you masturbated?"
"oh u-um, maybe like once a month?"
"and you're able to make yourself come?"
"sometimes. sometimes it just gets too tiring and i end up just falling asleep."
"i see." sana writes a few finishing notes and then places her notepad on the table. "so from what you've told me today, it would seem like you have something called genito-pelvic pain or penetration disorder. normally this sort of behaviour has to go on for at least 6 months before it is diagnosable, but even though it’s only been two months for you, we can still work on ways to improve your symptoms. so there's nothing physically wrong with you or your body, this is more of a cognitive response to a fear of pain from penetration. what happens is because of this fear, you're vaginal muscles tighten when you're about to have sex, they're trying to protect you from this invasive thing that's going to enter your body and that it thinks will cause you a lot of pain. this is why it's so much more painful when someone does penetrate you, because you're muscles are already working actively to try and push it out, they only get tighter and tighter making sex more painful for you. this kinda creates this cycle of fear because it does hurt when you have sex, so the next time it happens, your muscles learn to anticipate this pain and try to close you off from this external invasion. does that kinda make sense?"
you nod a little hazily, the words floating around in your head.
"it's a good thing that you're still able to take penetration though. in some extreme cases women's vaginas have been sealed so tight penis penetration is impossible. now there aren't any medications for this unfortunately, but the main treatment is to unlearn this fear that's maintaining the disorder, and eventually you'll be able to engage in sex that is enjoyable for you again."
"how would i unlearn that?"
"well first of all, masturbation helps. a lot. you say you were only really doing it once a month in the past but actually, masturbating weekly or even twice a week is perfectly normal. and i know you said your boyfriend doesn't really like it but... well it's your body right? if he can't make you feel good then you need to start learning how to make yourself feel good. you need to start turning sex into a positive experience again. later down the line, that also means a lot more foreplay than what you're currently doing. i'm talking like an hour at least. using lube as well will be extremely useful, even if you are wet, it always helps to be fully prepared for that first penetration. i know this all sounds like a lot right now so we'll start slow. would you mind getting up on the examination table and taking off your pants and underwear. i'd like to examine your pelvic muscles a little more closely."
you nod, shuffling onto your feet and beginning to strip out of your clothes. sana pays you no mind, grabbing a new pair of gloves and slipping them on. you figure sana has done this plenty of times in the past, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. well... aside from the fact that sana was really pretty and her really pretty hands were about to be touching you and-
she's turning back around when you lay on the examination table, hands crossed on your stomach, fiddling with your fingers. you avoid her gaze but catch the way her eyes linger a little on your legs. she moves closer towards you, you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, feeling the tips of your ears go red at the attention.
she giggles a little and you're confused, "y/n you have to open your legs for me to be able to see anything."
"oh right i- um-" you shyly spread your legs apart, revealing your cleanly shaven lips.
sana squeezes something into her hand, "this is just lube. to see your pelvic muscles in action means i'll have to part your walls so i'm just lubricating them to make it a little more comfortable for you." she looks up at you, waiting for your consent, and when you nod, she gets straight to work.
you gasp at the cold feeling of the lubricant running down your folds, wiggling a little. then, sana's hands come in and start massaging the lube along your folds, spreading it so it covers the entire surface area of your core, fingers gentle as she spreads the liquid. your breath catches a little when she bypasses your clit, squeezing your hands together, and trying your best to not make any inappropriate sounds while in your doctor's office.
you sneak a glance down at her, watching the way she has her lip caught between her teeth while she focuses, eyes glued to your folds. she spreads your lips and starts applying the lube on your inner folds as well, meticulous with her work, making sure no slice of skin was missed.
"i'm going to start prodding around your entrance now alright?"
you can only choke out a hum in response, not trusting your voice to give away the fact that this was turning you on very much.
one of her fingers glides down to your entrance, her other hand still holding your lips open, and she starts to poke gently at your entrance, you can feel when a short fingernail dips in just slightly, wiggling around a little to try and loosen you up. at this point you're kinda glad sana went with the lube because it meant she couldn't tell she was actually getting you spectacularly wet on her own, your own slick mixing with the lube she's spread all over.
she starts pushing a finger in very slowly, but you cringe a little and shuffle your hips when she's about a knuckle in. she pulls out gently, "hurts?"
you nod, "a little."
she starts pressing gently against your folds again, "i'm just going to try massage your folds from the outside, hopefully it'll get your muscles to relax a little with some stimulation."
it is relaxing, the way she's gently pressing into you, it’s certainly never like anything you’ve felt before, it turns you on, but also eases you, it’s a combination you’ve never experienced.
when she gently runs a finger over the hood of your clit your hips jerk and you gasp.
“sorry! too much?” sana backs away quickly, hands raised so you can see she’s no longer touching you.
you inhale, forcing yourself to look at her, your gaze a little blurry, eyes lidded, “n-no. that was- g-good actually.” your voice is a lot scratchier than it was, you can’t believe how turned on you are from just minutes of being with her. “a-actually would it- um- are you allowed to take your gloves off? like if you want to! you don’t have to if you think it’s gross or anything i just think it could help a little so you can feel exactly where your skin and nails touch me.”
sana raises an eyebrow, seeming to consider you, and you want to crawl back into your pants, run away and never see be seen in public again the longer she takes to regard you.
but then wordlessly, she takes her gloves off, flicking them into the bin and reaching for the bottle of lube.
“oh um- you don’t have to. i’m wet enough i think.”
sana smirks then, squeezing some into her palm, “oh sweetie i know. remember what i said about lubing up anyway though? there can never be too much lube.”
you blush at the pet name, gritting your teeth when you feel the cool liquid and the soft touch of her fingers again. except this time it’s so much more real, you can feel every single brush, every stroke, every movement of her fingers against you. when she brushes against your clit again, you can’t help the faint moan you let out. your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you feel her still her movements against you. “s-sorry i-“
“it’s okay. you can make as many sounds as you want. just relax. stop thinking sweetie.” she brushes over your clit again, with a little more purpose this time, and you let out another whimper, trying to stop your hips from grinding against her hand.
the next few minutes are torturous. you're biting back moans every 2 seconds, focusing on keeping your hips solidly on the examination table, hands clenched tight together, you’re so wet you can hear the way she's sliding through your folds much more easily now, able to insert the entire length of her fingernail in with each stroke downwards. your breathing has gotten observably heavier, each inhale and exhale is strained, and you certainly couldn’t look at sana anymore, eyes glazed, just trying to focus on not giving yourself away.
"i’m gonna try go in again now okay?"
you nod, a little desperately, closing your eyes to block out the sight of her between your legs.
she gently prods at your entrance, now able to slide a knuckle in fairly easily, you feel like jelly around her, unable to control your own movements when you jolt downwards, sucking in more of her finger and moaning at the feeling.
“alright?”
“mhm just- just do it.”
“do what sweetie?”
“just- you know-“
“hmm?” she slips a little further in, and you clench around her, your muscles trying to trap her inside of you.
“f-fuck- i- yeah- fuck-“
she giggles a little and you flush, you realise again that she’s very attractive and very good with her hands and those hands are now inching even deeper into you, and before you know it, she’s got her entire finger buried inside of you.
you’re breathless at the feeling.
“painful at all?”
“n-no. not at all. feels- um- g-good.”
you can hear the smirk in her voice when she teases, “you feel good.”
you clench around her at the praise, unaware that sana’s trying her very best to stay as professional as possible, despite wanting so badly to rid you of all your clothes and fuck you until you were moulded to only be able to take her.
“relax baby. i’m going to slide back out now okay?”
you whine when you feel her retreating slowly, your walls gripping her finger, urging her to stay inside. but she comes out until just the tip of her finger is in you, and then pushes in again, filling you up deliciously.
you exhale deeply, back arching at the feeling.
“good?”
“fuck- so fucking good oh god-“
she’s pulling out and pushing in again, slow and careful, watching your body for any signs of pain and fixed on the way your face contorts in pleasure at the feeling of being sexually satisfied for the first time in months.
“think you can take another?” you peek open your eyes to find that sana looks slightly more dishevelled than before, her breathing also a little irregular now, her voice low with lust. you gulp at the sight.
“y-yeah.”
now that you've caught a glimpse of her, you can't look away, your eyes tracing the way her gaze is a little clouded, her tongue peaking out to wet her lips. then she's pushing in again with a second finger, rubbing your clit lightly with her other hand and pressing down onto the external parts of your folds to get you to loosen up.
you suck her in easily, whimpering a little when she stops and looks up at you in concern.
"k-keep going p-please- i can take it- fuck-"
so she continues her journey, pressing in deeper, and deeper, until she's able to fit two fingers snugly inside of you. you moan when she fills you up, pulsing around her, muttering curses and hands moving to hold onto the sides of the examination table.
but then, sana's pulling out again, and this time she doesn't come back. she clears her throat, moving towards the sink in her office to wash herself up.
you clamber onto your elbows hazily, completely soaked and watch in confusion as she dries her hands, her cheeks flushed.
"i think that's enough for today y/n. you can use the sink and this towel here to clean yourself up and get dressed. i'll wait for you outside." she doesn't spare you another glance and slips outside the room, closing it behind her to give you some privacy.
you take a second to recover because what the fuck just happened? you can only follow her instructions dumbly, picking up the towel she's left for you and cleaning yourself up, still incredibly sensitive when you twitch with each swipe along your folds. you put your clothes back on and rearrange your hair so that it doesn't look like you were just about to come mere minutes ago.
once you're tidied up and you've cleared your mind, or at least pushed all the lustful thoughts about being fucked into the table aside, you step outside the office, looking around to find that sana's with ben at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.
you clear your throat to announce your presence when you walk up to them. ben seems to have calmed down and he kisses your cheek sweetly when you sidle up next to him. you take note of the way sana eyes the action, her grip on the pen getting just a little tighter.
"alright y/n. i talked with ben to get an idea of your availability so i hope it's okay that i've booked you in for another session in about 2 weeks."
"yes that's fine!" your voice comes out unintentionally higher than you meant it to. the nerves and confusion hitting you at once.
"and i'll also set you a little homework. like we talked about, masturbation is key to getting better. so here's a self-care kit, it's got a clitoral vibrator and a few different dildo sizes as well as a couple of bottles of lube. i want you to try using the vibrator first, get used to the feeling of orgasming, and then start to bring in the smallest dildo. ben can watch if you want him to or help, but just remember what i said about making sex a positive experience. that's the main purpose of all of this, just relearning that sex is good and that it’s meant to be fun and enjoyable. i'll check with you in 2 weeks how the progress is going and we'll go from there. any questions?"
the entire time she talks to you, she barely looks into your eyes, it's clear she's already discussed all of this with ben who looks more than happy to be a bystander to your sexual pleasure if it meant he would be able to have sex with you later on. you find yourself a little disappointed that she won't acknowledge you. you shake your head no, and she slides you a few forms and the self-care package she mentioned, discreetly wrapped and in a cute little takeaway bag.
"great i'll see you in two weeks y/n. if you'll excuse me now." she sidesteps you and walks briskly back into her office, your eyes trail after her, but you shake the feelings from your head, refocusing on the present and the way ben has his arm wrapped around you.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
it's a fortnight later and you're sitting in a familiar waiting room, this time without ben because you convinced him to stay behind after his retaliatory actions the last time he was here. maybe you also just wanted to see sana alone but you weren't going to tell him that.
if you were being honest, sana hasn't left your mind once since you left the clinic two weeks ago. even when you were completing her assigned homework tasks, it wasn't broad muscles and rugged facial hair that you were thinking of, no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts always drifted back to the way sana had handled you so carefully, the way her fingers felt inside you, how she paid attention to every single reaction you made, every small sound, twitch, how attentive she was. and sometimes your thoughts drifted into territory that was a little more imaginative. those usually consisted of sana using the various toys she'd given you to bring you to heights you weren't able to bring yourself to.
"y/n?"
your head snaps up at the voice. you beam seeing her, she has her hair up today, pretty earrings and perfect features accentuated. she smiles in response at you, gesturing you to follow her to her office.
you settle into the familiar office again, much more relaxed and excited than the last time you were here.
"i see you're looking a lot more chipper than 2 weeks ago." sana comments with a smile, grabbing her notepad that you recognise from last week.
"just happy to see you again."
her smile fades a little at that, but you don't let that discourage you.
"right... so tell me how your fortnight has been. have you attempted to have sex with your boyfriend again? uh... bryson was it? or brendan?"
"ben. and no we haven't had sex again. i also took your advice and let masturbation be just a personal experience. he asked to watch and help but i told him it would be better if he didn't."
"that's good to hear. how has the masturbation been?"
"great! you were right! i've forgotten what having sex just for the sake of doing it for myself felt like. i've spent so long thinking i enjoyed it when i was really just an item for my partner's satisfaction. in a sense that brought me joy as well, being able to provide a source of happiness for them, but i realised that that's not a healthy thing to keep doing."
sana smiles genuinely, "very good y/n. i'm glad that masturbation has helped you realised that. how about your vaginal muscles? did you try using the dildos in the self care package?"
"um- yes i did but- i was actually hoping- uh-"
"hmm? what is it?"
"well i still haven't really been able to cum from using the dildos, only from the vibrator. it's not as painful anymore to put them in, and i'm still working up the sizes, but it still doesn't really feel good? like it just feels like there's something in me, it doesn't really derive pleasure or anything like that."
sana hums, thinking a little, writing down a few notes before closing her notepad. "would you show me?"
"i- um- sorry what?"
"how you've been masturbating. it may be something with the technique, but if it's something else more serious, i'd need to know about it."
"oh! yeah of course." you stumble upwards, repeating your movements from 2 weeks ago, stripping of your clothes, except this time, you take your top off as well.
sana yelps and turns around at your abrupt show of skin.
"something wrong sana?"
"oh- um- no nothing i just thought- um- i didn't think there was reason for your top to be off as well-"
"you wanted to see how i touched myself right? i generally try and stimulate my tits as well since my nipples are quite sensitive."
"right... yes of course." she turns around again, avoiding your gaze and looking to the floor, waiting for you to get on the examination table.
your lips quirk a little at how shy she's being, "is something the matter sana? you see naked bodies all the time in this line of work don't you? and you pretty much saw me naked last time as well..."
sana blushes even brighter, "um- well- yes but- most of my patients tend to be middle aged and they certainly aren't as attractive as you are."
"you think i'm attractive?" you're laid on the examination table now, head turned to the side so you can watch as the doctor fumbles where she's seated, still not looking at you.
"i- um- well- forgive me- i'm trying really hard to be professional right now and-"
"is that why you left in such a hurry during our last session?" you start trailing your hands over yourself, finding yourself easily aroused in the presence of the other woman.
"oh- um- well- yes i- i didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"
you moan gently when a practiced hand glides up to squeeze softly at a tit, the other sliding down slowly towards your centre. "you could never make me uncomfortable sana. well actually... i was only really uncomfortable when you left me so empty last time. i couldn't wait to go home and try out the toys you gave me, i haven't felt so turned on in so long and i needed to get that out of my system as soon as i could." you're trying to get a rise out of her, but everything you're saying is the truth anyway.
sana's eyes are on you now, wide and a little shocked at the words coming out of your mouth, and you revel in the way that meant her eyes now travelled your body. you try and angle yourself so she can see the way you squeeze at your breast, brushing over a nipple lightly with your palm and watching it pebble in reaction, your other hand dipping down to trace along your folds, finding that you're already dripping, the fact that the object of your sexual desires for the last 2 weeks is now only inches away from you, watching you touch yourself, driving you further off the edge of sanity.
"y/n..." sana's voice comes out almost 2 octaves lower than her usual register. you catch the way she wets her lips and crosses her legs.
"i'm so wet already i don't even need lube. and i know you kept saying to use it no matter what and trust me i did when i got myself off at home, but right now, just look-" you bring your hand up from between your legs, making an obscene display of licking your fingers and sucking on them, making sure she could see the arousal that coated your fingers.
sana's jaw tightens at the sight, she shuffles a little in her seat, unconsciously moving closer towards you.
"you don't have to worry about being unprofessional sana. i promise i want this just as much as you do right now." you slide your hand back down yourself, finding your clit easily after the practice you've gotten over the last fortnight, and rubbing circles around it.
"bold of you to assume i want this. this is my job after all." you leak at the register in her voice, it's something you've only been able to imagine in your fantasies.
"you don't want me?" you pout a little, turning onto your side so your entire body is facing her, your arm pushing your breasts together while a finger tugs gently on a nipple, your other hand still rubbing fast little circles into your clit.
sana chuckles darkly, her eyes closing, she seems to be trying to force herself to keep still.
"because just to be clear... i've thought about how you touched me every single time i came these past two weeks." your breath hitches when you recall the way you'd vigorously rub one out to her, sometimes multiple times a day ever since you started masturbating again. "i- oh fuck- no one has gotten me that turned on in such a short amount of time ever- nng- and i'd think about the way you felt inside me, and how careful and gentle you were- fuck- and then i'd think about how rough you could get as well- oh- and how i'd try and be so good for you- can you- can you pass me the dildo? i think i can slide the smallest one in now-"
she gets up from her seat wordlessly, exuding a dark aura that makes you clench your thighs in anticipation. she moves towards your bag, digging for the package and pulling it out, taking the smallest dildo and then moving back towards you. her pupils are blown, hungrily drinking you in, your fingers speed up just a little at the attention.
you reach out a hand mid-moan, asking for her to pass you the toy.
but she clicks her tongue, pushing your hand away gently and lubing up the toy herself.
you gulp, turning so you're laid flat on your back again, spreading your legs so she can see just how wet you were.
her eyes meet yours briefly, and you adore the way she checks in and makes sure you're okay with this, and you nod, giving her permission before she's sliding the dildo into you.
"oh shit-"
sana hums, pushing the little gold dildo in further, transfixed on the way your fingers move just a little rougher around your clit with every centimetre.
when she's completely inside you moan, clenching around the dildo, it was a comfortable size inside you.
"any pain?" her voice is rough, laced with barely concealed lust.
you whine, "n-no- you can move."
she starts pulling out, and it is almost painful the threat of being empty leaving you desperate, grinding down to try and keep her inside you, but she pushes back in, just a second faster this time and you moan unabashedly.
"f-fuck-" she starts up a rhythm, pulling out of you, then pushing back in, each time a second faster than the last.
you rub your clit, faster, harder, pulling on your nipple, switching to the other one to make sure both were attended to, you've never been built up this quickly. even when you were masturbating you had taken her advice and teased yourself for at least an hour before you got anywhere close to cumming.
you crave her, eyes lidded watching the way the veins in her arms become a little more visible when she thrusts in a little harder. you can hear the examination table shaking under you, you can't keep still at all, trying to meet her on each thrust, the tools and materials clattering about loudly. the possibility that someone could hear you outside flies across your mind but you can barely give it a second thought, in fact, it turns you on even more knowing that you were getting fucked by the most gorgeous doctor that you've been obsessed with the last fortnight, and on the other side of the door everyone was just going about their regular days, having no idea the heights of pleasure she was bringing you to.
"o-oh s-sana oh my god- holy fuck-"
"hmm? good?"
"yes yes so good- oh my god you feel so good inside me i'm gonna- oh fuck-"
"do you mind if i..."
you look down at her, vision a little blurry but you can tell she's asking to do something, "yes yes oh god- whatever- you can do whatever you want to me- oh fuck-"
you feel a soft hand come to rest on your stomach, sliding down to just a little below your belly button, and then it presses down just gently, "oh fuck!" your hips jolt upwards, pleasure running up your spine.
sana stops the pressure but keeps her hand on your lower stomach, "was that okay?"
"god yes- oh sana you're gonna make me cum please-"
so she presses down again, a little harder this time, and you feel the coil in you snap, white enroaching your vision, your thighs shaking, head tilted back, a high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth, feeling completely breathless.
sana waits for you to come down patiently, helping you through your orgasm, continuing her thrusts into your cunt but slower and much gentler.
eventually, you feel your back and hips meet the surface of the examination table under you again, breathing heavily and opening your eyes slowly.
sana's moved next to you, brushing strands of hair out of your face, you preen into her touch. but the next thing she does has you clenching tightly around the dildo that's still inside you. she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in and making a show of wrapping her tongue around them. "exquisite."
you blush, clenching your thighs together at the sight.
she gives you a slow once-over again, before exhaling shakily and turning away, moving to the sink to clean up a little. you struggle a little to sit up, still recovering from your mind-shaking orgasm, and you're about to pull the dildo out of you when she speaks up again, still with her back turned to you.
"keep it inside you. that'll be your homework task for the next fortnight until our next session." she turns around, seeming to have collected herself a little better, her eyes fixed only on your face, purposely avoiding the rest of your body.
you sluggishly start to clean yourself up, wincing a little each time you accidentally move the dildo inside you.
"so you are able to come from penetration, you don't have to worry about that. and it's normal that you need some clitoral or other stimulation to be able to orgasm, often just penetration isn't enough. for the next fortnight i want you to continue masturbating, but i want you to practice leaving a dildo inside yourself afterwards, so your vaginal muscles get used to the feeling of something being inside. you can slowly work your way up the sizes, just don't push yourself and make sure you stop if it starts becoming too painful."
you nod, trying to bring your breathing back to a normal pace while you slip your clothes back on.
"alright. were there any other concerns you wanted to talk about?"
you shake your head, coming to a stand.
"okay. you can make the next appointment with the receptionist out front. i'll see you in 2 weeks y/n."
you nod, again, walking out the door when she opens it for you, but turning back before she can close it catching her a little by surprise, "thank you sana. i look forward to seeing you again soon." your voice is still a little scratchy but sana blushes, pursing her lips and nodding, closing the door after you.
you sigh a little dreamily, feeling more blissed out than you've been in a long time.
❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
this continues between the two of you for a few months.
you loved teasing sana and getting her out of her professional state. once you had worn lingerie under your coat to see her. you laugh remembering the way her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as you took off your coat when you were in the privacy of her office. you'd let her fuck you however she wanted, and then you'd use each new experience to get you off during the fortnight that she'd give you new exercises, all increasing in intensity to help build you up to being able to take an average sized penis.
your favourite one to think about was that week that ben started complaining about how you'd been seeing sana for so long that surely you'd be able to take him by now. he insisted on coming to your next appointment but he was forced to sit outside and wait for you. little did he know you were on the other side of the door, a hand clamped over your mouth, the other holding you up against the door with your breasts pressed against it while sana railed into you from behind. of course she kept harnesses in her office. she had said they were mainly there for educational purposes, to show people how to put one on properly so it was safe and wasn't hurting anyone, it was just an added benefit that she also used them to pound into you with increasing dildo sizes each fortnight.
you lean onto your elbows while you watch her wash off the dildo she had just used on you. it was the biggest one yet and you're still fluttering a little remembering the way it filled you up while you rode her.
"what?" she turns around, drying off the dildo and slipping it back into your bag, pulling her shirt back on.
"just think you're nice to look at."
she rolls her eyes playfully, "shut up y/n."
you wiggle your eyebrows, "make me."
she glances at you, narrowing her eyes a little but making no effort to move closer, "as if you could go another round. you came so hard just then."
you giggle and sigh in satisfaction, resting your cheek on a hand, "i did. you're so good at what you do."
sana hums, finishing getting dressed and looking semi-presentable, settling back into her seat, but her expression changes a little while she studies you.
"what's up?"
"... have you tried having sex again with your boyfriend?"
"i told you i haven't."
she hums again, mind drifting elsewhere and you shrug, sitting up and starting to clean yourself up. "you can try now y'know? you were able to take that dildo and that's pretty much the average size of a penis already. unless he's bigger than that...?"
you scoff, shuffling into your pants, "no. he's actually smaller than the one you just used on me."
"then you should try having sex again."
you pull your shirt over your head, thinking over what she's saying. instead of sitting down in your own seat you climb into her lap, her arms wrapping around you automatically, hands gripping your waist while you make yourself comfortable. "doesn't that mean i won't be able to see you anymore?"
sana chuckles a little emptily, "i'm your sex therapist y/n. you knew this was going to end eventually."
"yeah but you don't fuck your other clients do you?"
sana laughs then, you feast in the sound. "no, no i don't."
"good. i was actually thinking..."
"hm?" she brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing slightly.
"would you... i don't know... like... i think about you when i get off yeah but i also think about you like... all the time..."
"mhm."
"so i was wondering if... i don't know if you felt the same if you wanted to like hang out outside of here? and like i don't mean to have sex i mean like go on a date maybe...?" you're shy, bringing this question up, blushing and avoiding her eyes.
"you have a boyfriend y/n." she deadpans.
"well yeah but i was thinking of breaking up with him anyway. now that you're bringing up having sex with him again i don't want that, and i don't want to stop seeing you. i guess just- just the threat that this all might be over soon- well i don't want it to be over. i like you sana." you say a little more firmly this time, meeting her eyes with decisiveness.
sana smiles then, all eyes, leaning in to peck you gently, "come back in a fortnight and we'll see. if you're no longer with him then... maaaybe i'll let you take me out."
your eyes brighten at her response, jumping out of her lap with excitement, "really?! oh my god i'll call him right now and do it-" you're reaching for your phone in your bag when she laughs, pulling you back into her
"don't do it over the phone silly. not even he deserves that."
you pout a little but it’s quickly wiped away when sana kisses you, lips slotting perfectly against yours with practiced ease. you sigh into her, addicted to the feeling, the taste, the smell of her. it was probably the easiest decision of your life, choosing your sex therapist over your boyfriend.
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