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johannestevans · 4 months

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Where do I find the queer people?

Making friends and finding social & community spaces as an LGBTQ+ adult.

Originally published with Prism & Pen. Also on my Patreon.

Photo by Brett Sayles via Pexels.

A friend and I recently went to a Queer Open Mic night after I saw it advertised on the same afternoon. While we were on the way back, she asked about how I’d found it.

“I just feel like you always know loads of queer events that are on,” she said, “and I don’t know how to begin to find them.”

I sat down with her a few weeks later and showed her some of the ways I find events, regular or otherwise, and where I look for others — especially given that on social media in the past few days I’ve seen a few people talking about the difficulty of finding and meeting with new queer people when not online.

I thought it might be useful to put it together here.

It’s quite hard with the pressure on and elimination of many third spaces to go out and easily meet people, and given that most of us use a lot of online socials and dating apps, it can feel difficult to seek out and engage with in-person spaces without knowing exactly what the protocol or format of the event is going to be.

Especially given that many people are still more isolated than they were before the start of the Covid pandemic, and/or struggle with seeking out events for themselves having finished school or university or other more structured environments, there can be a lot of anxiety about attending events or meeting new people. But it’s worth it to remember that pretty much everyone else is in a similar spot, and there’s nothing weird or unusual about wanting to make friends or have social time with others.

I am based in the North of England and generally go between the UK and Ireland. So this guide might be less useful depending on where you are. Obviously, in countries with more repressive legislation on queer identity, community groups will by definition be far more underground. Even in areas where this isn’t the case, some of these suggestions might be more viable than others depending on how densely populated your area is, how accessible different venues and events are, and how active your local queer communities are. So, just take what’s good for you and leave the rest.

Finding Local Queer Community Groups

In your search engine, put in simple search terms — [queer] [group] in [my area].

If you can, narrow your search to websites updated in the last 6 months to 2 or 3 years — you’ll sometimes find a website from six or seven years ago where the events haven’t been running for half that when you were already excited about it.

Search your town, city, or county first, and then widen your search — I normally initially look for Bradford and Leeds respectively, but then might broaden my search to West Yorkshire or even North England depending on the time of year and if I’m more willing to travel for certain events, e.g. looking up summer events around Pride, or specific holiday events if you’re looking at Halloween, Christmas, New Year’s, etc.

Combine:

“Queer”, “LGBT” or “LGBTQ”, “Trans”, “Gay Men’s”, “Lesbian”, “Transgender”, “Transsexual”, “Gay Rights” or similar terms

With:

“Charity”, “Support Group”, “Social Space”, “Community Space”, “Meetup”, “Society”, and similar terms

Swap around the terms and find what language seems to be used in your area — remember that depending on the age group and demographic you’re looking at or for, there might be terms you prefer.

I personally search for a lot of gay men’s groups because the average age tends to be a lot older and focused more on the experiences and social spaces of men who love men rather than general queer spaces, which I find can be a bit too young and fast-paced for my speed.

In general, I find that there’s a loose separation between younger trans and queer social groups, which tend to be a mix of differing identities and ages but with a big emphasis on young adults in the 18–25 area, and then specific gay men’s or lesbians’ groups, which will have a wider swathe of ages and might be a little bit less online.

I understand the fear some people have of these spaces being more transphobic than younger spaces — that’s not personally been my experience, as transphobia and lateral bigotry might happen in any social space, but unfortunately, you just don’t know the specifics of an event or a group until you get there and actually meet and talk to the people.

Some charities or community groups that run a variety of spaces might have specific age or identity guidance on group titles — some might be particularly for younger or older people, be for trans people more than cis people, and some might focus on particular sub-communities, such as BIPOC queer groups or specific religious or ethnic meetups, disabled queer groups, etc.

You also might find meetups that are centred around certain hobbies, professions, or interests — boardgames or Magic the Gathering, Doctor Who or fantasy novels, medical professionals or blacksmiths, etc, depending on how big the area you’re in is and how populous it is.

If you are already a member of an institution or society, whether that’s your school or university, your union, some workplaces, your temple or other religious institution, etc, you might find that there are already events running for you!

Finding Queer Events Online

There are almost certainly queer events on, and they’re probably advertised, but where do you find them?

What’s annoying about the Internet as it exists, corporate online spaces and otherwise, is that most events will be posted in one or two spaces out of hundreds. The good ones will sometimes be hard to find because there’s a bunch of shitty advertising in the way, and because individuals and small charity or community advertisers don’t necessarily know about things like search engine optimisation or how to make a good, searchable post. There will be really cool events that are advertised online, but just aren’t tagged or easy to find.

This means that it’s worth looking often but keeping it casual — glancing through the top page for events that might be coming up or meet some keywords, but if most of what you see is ads, just leave it and move on. Digging through for the good events in busy areas that are also ad-heavy can take ages and might not even turn up much.

If you find socials for local community groups or charities, even if they don’t run events themselves, they might regularly share other local events or cool ones, so it can be worth following them!

Ditto for other queer people in your community — follow local artists, performers, academics, creators, public speakers, craftspeople, or any local community leaders or public figures, and see if they share and boost local events.

They might boost special interest events that are of interest to you if you follow people who share certain communities or interests. If, for example, you have an interest in lolita fashion and follow queer lolita dressers in your area or in areas you can travel to, they might post events that are of interest to them and maybe to you — whether that means specific lolita events, other clothing and fashion events like gothic or steampunk markets and shows, or even anime cons or renaissance faires or whatever.

Obviously searching on social media can help — looking for keywords like “queer event” or “LGBT social” on one site or other can be especially good if it’s a site where you can localise your search results, such as Facebook or Instagram.

With that said, Facebook and Instagram are increasingly difficult sites to use given how much they’re overwhelmed by sponsored and corporate posts as well as spam and bot posts. So, it’s generally worth it more when you focus on either events in smaller and limited areas, such as small towns, or when you’re looking for crossing over of different areas of interest, such as particular queer hobbyist or interest groups. When you start looking for broader spectrum events in a busier or more populous area, you can get inundated by spam and copy-and-paste duplicate ads that have all been promoted. But it’s still worth it to have a glance and see if anything is up at the top!

Sites and apps like Eventbrite or TicketSource, or equivalents in your area, will often let you search for specific events . As with social media, these sites can have the same problem of sponsored events coming up first, and annoyingly you can’t block particular event providers or organisers to make sure they don’t show in your search results if they’re not your thing.

Use every option that comes up and see if you can cross search where you can — pick a particular location or area, click on free or paid events, pick events at certain times, pick a certain kind of event, add in tags like LGBTQ or similar if it’s a site that allows it, etc.

If an event comes up that you like the idea of, note it down, then look the organizer up on social media and see if they run or share other events.

Looking for local tourism sites will let you search for other local events as well — especially if you live in a city or regularly visit one, they’ll often have a What’s On page or a Visit [Blank] website or equivalent, and you can search through that — most of them will have cultural events or a specific LGBTQ section you can glance through.

Here’s the Visit Bristol site, for example:

What’s On in Bristol — VisitBristol.co.uk Click here to find out What’s On in Bristol!…Get the latest information on the latest Events, Festivals, Carnivals…visitbristol.co.uk

For obvious reasons, sites like most of the above will focus on paid events, especially evening and party events. Pub quizzes, drag events, bingo nights, balls, drinks offers, parties, etc.

These events aren’t for everybody — and if they’re not for you, focus on events that take place, if not in cafés and restaurants, then in libraries, universities, museums, and other public buildings.

Queer Events Locally Advertised In-Person

Wait, do people still do that?

Look for poster and notice boards in:

Libraries, museums, community centres, university lobbies

Vintage and alternative clothes stores, music venues, etc

Your temple, church, or other religious institutions

Gay bars, queer cafés, LGBTQ centres, queer bookshops

Doctor’s offices, GUM clinics, and sexual health clinics

Anywhere else you see a noticeboard with events showing!

Also look on flag poles or in windows around your local gay bars or businesses if you have any, generally around the gay village if there’s one to go through.

How do you know the events are good? How do you know they’re legit?

How old does the poster look? Do you see many copies of it around?

Look for dates for the event(s) they’re advertising on the poster, and then look up the venue the events are meant to happen at. Do the dates match? Is it a regular event? Is the event showing on the venue’s website or social media?

Is the event run by a local group, collective, or charity? When you search them, do they have socials or a site of their own? Do they seem active?

If a local queer poster gives you socials, check those socials out — do they have any followers you’re familiar with? Do they post their venues publicly and have defined and public meeting times? Do they seem to have active and engaged commenters? Is there a face or faces behind the social media, or are they anonymous?

If an event is run by anonymous people, or if it seems like they don’t have many followers on social media or very active ones, that might be a bit more suspicious — ditto if an event just gives you a phone number but not any further identifying info.

It’s not inherently suspicious for a queer event to be at an undisclosed location, because of course people do want to ensure some safeguarding and vet people before they come, but if it’s an undisclosed location in combination with anonymous organising, that might be a bit suspicious, and should probably be avoided.

Finding Queer People in Specific Hobby or Other Community Spaces

You don’t have to go to queer-specific events to meet other queer people — any hobby or community you can think of, there’s probably queer people in attendance.

If you’re in a busier or more populous area, say there are 5 events that centre around the same hobby — of those 5, some of them will have more queer people than others, and it might be worth checking them out just to see if you click with anyone there.

My partner and I attend queer-specific board-game evenings that are run out of gay bars or by queer clubs, but pretty much any board-game night is likely to have one or two queer people knocking about, whether they know or would identify themselves as LGBTQ+ off the bat or not.

While there are obviously more open queer people at the queer events, I would say that when we went to a local board-game night run by older straight guys, about a quarter of the attendees were older queer people.

Of my queer friends, pretty much all of them have varied interests and attend different groups or clubs with a lot of other queers knocking about without them being labelled or explicitly queer events — knitting and crocheting, computer coding, electronic music and DJing, fandom, blacksmithing, glassblowing, stand-up comedy, improv, cooking, gardening, board games, cosplay and historical costuming, LEGO, live-action roleplay, tabletop roleplaying games, Magic the Gathering, Yu-Gi-Oh, and other trading card games, poker, burlesque, sports games and clubs, swimming, cycling, fishing, photography, book clubs, bug collecting, birdwatching, weaving, painting, sculpture, pottery, video games, singing, songwriting, poetry…

The list goes on.

Hell, half the people I know seem to go and meet new dates at the local climbing wall, where it seems like all the lesbians and gay guys are crawling all over one another. Another friend of mine attends their local WI, and have met other queer people there.

Other Tips

Remember you can meet people on dating and hook-up apps and that doesn’t necessarily have to be for sex and relationships, whether that’s Grindr, Her, Lex, etc — or you can ask hook-ups and casual dates where they go or if there are local events they think are good or fun. Poly people are particularly useful for this, because they’ll often have a whole network of regular events crossing over and diverging.

If you’re nervous about going to an event alone and you don’t have anybody to go with you, it can be worth checking it out on socials first and see if you have any mutual friends with people that are going — if not, it’s worth heading along anyway, because people might well speak to you before you have to open the conversation with them.

Community groups will often have icebreakers or sessions where people swap names, pronouns, and basic introductions, and that can ease the way into getting used to the space.

If you see somebody else on their own who seems nervous to talk to people, they can be good to approach and say, hey, I also don’t know anyone here, what brings you here? And so on. Remember, other people are pretty much always in the same boat as you.

For me, one of the biggest anxieties about going to new events alone is the fact that I’m disabled and dependent on public transport, and that combo can make it tough on me if I get to a place and it’s inaccessible or just not my speed, and then I have to sort of immediately turn heel and leave, but wait ages for a bus in the meantime. I’ve missed more than one event I was really excited about just because transport didn’t line up for me.

Some considerations to keep in mind when you look for events:

Is the event free or paid? Is this clearly marked? Do you need to buy tickets in advance?

How recent is the posting about the event? Is it posted on a web page or a social media page? Are there recent comments or engagement on the entry? If there is a contact for the event, is it active and responsive?

Is this event regular or recurrent? Is it for a special occasion, and does it have sister events or concurrent events?

Is the event exclusively online, exclusively in-person, or do they change between the two formats? Would you prefer to attend online before you attend in-person?

Do you want to go to a closed and more private group — for example, one that has you message them for the time and location, seems to have capped attendee limits, seems to have a regular community. Or do you want to attend a more casual event in a larger, open space where people might not notice as much as you come and go? Is it going to be very crowded or more spaced out?

Where is the event located, and will you be comfortable in that venue? Is it in a community building such as a charity space, community group, religious institute, school, or university? Is it in a café, restaurant, pub, bar, club, or late-night venue? Is it an explicitly or dedicated queer space? If you are not out to other members of your community, will going into this space reveal that you might be a member of a queer group?

Is the venue age-restricted, and will it require ID? If you must provide ID, will providing your ID in a dead name or in a different gender presentation to your current one be anxiety-inducing or a potential problem for you?

How accessible is the venue to you? Is it walkable, on a regular bus route, or does it have appropriate parking for you? Does it have ramps or elevators? Is it well-ventilated, and does it have a HVAC or other air filtration and purification protocol? Is masking enforced, and/or are masks provided? If you might be watching something together, is there a hearing loop, will there be subtitles on a screening? Is there a first aider at the event? Does the venue serve food or drink, or provide refreshments?

If you are attending alone and have specific needs or requirements, or might need to leave abruptly, is there someone you can let know at the event, such as a first aider or community leader? Are there regular buses, a taxi rank, or online taxi access if you need to quickly head home? Have you let someone else know where you are going, just as a safety concern?

Is the event activity-based, or is it a space where people just sit and talk? Would one or the other of these feel more natural or comfortable to you? Do you have to bring your own activity, such as with a craft or knitting circle, or are supplies provided, such as boardgames or a screening?

Does the group or host for the event(s) have social media? Do they advertise the regular events on socials, or have a newsletter, or some other helpful reminder system?

Most community events will be free, but if it’s an activity group or society, or if it’s a private event, especially one where they buy equipment or supplies, there might be an up-front ticket or access fee, a membership fee or a collection jar or similar — most events will tell you in advance if there is a fee or if they might request a donation.

Most importantly, like… Have fun.

If it sucks, hit the bricks — there’s no obligation to stay anywhere if it’s not fun or doesn’t satisfy you in the way you were hoping.

There’s always other events out there, and you’re very unlikely to truly be the only gay in the village, even if it sometimes feels that way. Good luck!

#musings #queer pride #lgbt #gay community

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jstor · 18 days

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hi jstor, quick question, what do i do with all the regret that's slowly choking me? i'm an academic at heart in a world where i'm no longer in academia, and i'm not thriving one bit 🫠 had to turn down a place in a phd program 2 yrs ago & now it's my biggest regret in life. you've given people such compassionate advice, so maybe you can help? research/writing is my passion & i miss having the space to indulge it & keep learning!

Hi there, thanks for reaching out with such a heartfelt question. It takes a lot to express this sort of sentiment publicly and we appreciate that you trust us enough to ask.

The regret you're feeling is natural, considering so much of your identity and passion lies in your research and writing. Your friendly JSTOR mod has also been struggling with feeling unmoored outside of academia, and I've been wondering myself if I should work my way back somehow or create a structure of my own.

The good news is that you can actually create a structure of your own! Many scholars contribute to their fields independently, so it may be worth considering a personal research project that you can work on at your own pace (which has its advantages). Public libraries often provide access to academic databases like JSTOR, and your alma mater might have resources available to alumni. Communities and forums online are a good way to reach others who are feeling similar and doing similar things.

Your writing also doesn't have to stop! If it's not your only focus it may go quite a bit slower, but many journals accept submissions from independent researchers. In addition, platforms like Medium and Substack may allow you to self-publish some of your work. You could even look into pitching guest posts for relevant publications!

It doesn't have to be a permanent goodbye to academia either. Does your alma mater welcome guest lecturers, or are there any community workshops in your area? These are some ways you could share your passions with others. Plus, academia will always be there–if an opportunity arises for you to return and it aligns with your circumstances, you can.

This is by no means exhaustive, so I do hope that anyone from the community who would like to share insights does so in the replies. Wishing you the best of luck, wherever you may go from here!

#jstor #ask #academia #research

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 month

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Hello!! As a new year's resolution, I wanted to write a novel. It's March and I'm realizing I'm not sure what I'm doing. I'm pretty new to writing. I went from writing up to 7,500 word fanfics, to trying to get around 10x that for this novel. Any general tips? I struggle with spacing out the story correctly.

Writing a First Novel

Here are some previous posts that should help! ♥

Literary Fiction vs Genre Fiction Plot Driven vs Character Driven Stories Understanding Goals and Conflict Guide: Starting a New (Long Fiction) Story Figuring Out You Story’s Literary Themes Guide: How to Outline a Plot Creating a Detailed Story Outline Basic Story Structure Beginning a New Story How to Move a Story Forward Choosing a Point-of-View Figuring Out Where to Start a Story Making a Timeline for Your Story The Main Timeline, Back Story, and the Prologue Story Arc (Main Plot) vs Subplot Guide: How to Skip Time in Your Story Outlining a Chapter by Outlining Scenes Scenes, Chapters, and How to End Them Subtle Scene Transitions How to Use Scene Breaks Balancing Dialogue with Exposition and Action Exposition, Action, and Dialogue, and How to Pace Your Story Slowing the Pace within a Chapter Pacing Feels Too Fast Dropping Hints without Giving Everything Away How to Increase Word Count (Meaningfully!) Hinting vs Foreshadowing (And How to Figure Out What Hints to Drop) Foreshadowing (and Hinting) without Being Obvious The 3 Fundamental Truths of Description Weaving Details into the Story

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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phoebe-delia · 5 months

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I will never—EVER!!!—get tired of reading AND writing the moment they go from Potter/Malfoy to Harry/Draco.

Like I've seen it done a hundred different ways, and every single one is just absolutely awesome. I cannot think of a single time I've seen it done that I didn't like.

And as a writer it's honestly helpful for me. It's a STRUCTURE point. Because I struggle with pacing, sometimes, and choosing when they have the Names Conversation/Moment is a great way for me to know the pace at which their relationship is progressing. And I never get tired of writing it. And I just absolutely love the SIGNIFICANCE it has for them.

It's just. It's shedding all this BAGGAGE and starting a new chapter of with more vulnerability and intimacy. And also when they RECLAIM IT!!!!!!! AS A COUPLE!!!!!! AND IT BECOMES A JOKE OR A KINK OR A PET NAME!!!!!

Absolutely perfect 10/10 no notes amazing every time.

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy

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kbeanz19 · 3 months

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TL;DR: Hazbin Hotel is not paced as a TV show. It’s paced as a stage musical.

The pacing in Hazbin Hotel is something that is brought up and criticized frequently in the fandom. I agree that I wish we had more episodes so we could have more character-focused B-plots to further flesh them out. I was struggling with my thoughts on the pacing until my partner told me that to him, Hazbin Hotel is not paced as a television show. It is paced as a stage musical.

Think about it, the show has big story beats that are explained and demonstrated via musical numbers, characters that are integral to the plot but are introduced quickly with little backstory, large time jumps that are used to progress character growth, the lore only extends to what is currently relevant to the plot, and the season as whole is a bit over 3 hours long (the runtime of a long musical).

Many musicals have these pacing elements in them. Hamilton has characters that are only in one act but are still essential to the story. The second act of Rent takes place over an entire year but the pacing works due to the musical structure. All we know of Sweeney Todd’s backstory is what is relevant to his current situation yet audiences don’t complain that we don’t know what he did for 15 years in the Australian prison.

It’s not a perfect comparison and the show definitely has its flaws, but all shows do. We can’t change the episode count and I think they did the best they could in making an “Act 1” to the Hazbin saga. I’m looking forward to Act 2.

#hazbin hotel commentary #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin alastor #hazbin vaggie #musicals #hamilton musical #rent musical #sweeney todd #vivziepop

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writingwithfolklore · 5 months

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When i start writing a story in passive voice, using a lot of descriptions, as the story progresses, i have this tendency to write it in active voice. Somewhere the natural flow is disrupted. Please help!!

Hi!

I think first we need to clear something up about active vs. passive voice. Descriptions and lots of it can all be told in active voice, just like action could be told in passive voice. The difference depends on the structure of your sentence.

For example:

"The flowers were speckled with glimmering drops of rain." (passive) "Glimmering drops of rain speckled the petals of each flower" (active) and "The villain was struck by the passing crane." (passive) "The passing crane struck the villain." (active)

Which you choose depends on the effect you want on your readers! For example, you may not want to reveal what's happening to the character until the end of the sentence to maintain a sort of suspense.

"He was tugged suddenly under the door; a large, skeletal hand digging into his thigh." (passive) versus "a large, skeletal hand tugged him under the door." (active)

Good stories use a combination of both! Unless you're really intentionally writing only in passive or active as a style choice to convey something specific, make sure you're incorporating both where appropriate.

What I assume you mean is that the beginning of your work tends to be full of description and focus on detail, whereas by the end you're just moving bodies through space--focusing on the actions of the characters.

I also have this struggle!

A lot of that work at the beginning is about tone, which I wrote about here:

Otherwise, it's about editing afterwards--adding in the missing details and being intentional about your pacing. This may also help:

Hopefully that answers your question!

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #film #books #filmmaking #writing advice #maintaining style #ask and answer #ask box #anon

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sumeruin · 3 months

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tag, you’re it!!

pairing: yandere! dottore x afab test subject! reader

tw: written by a minor!!!, dddne, heavy noncon, wound fucking, gore, biting, mentions of vomiting but it doesn’t actually happen, biting, lots of blood, blood drinking, kidnapping, drugging, use of weapons, stalking, pet names, dehumanization, i think that’s it, but if i missed anything please let me know!!

a/n: i honestly can’t defend myself on this one um. enjoy <3

minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

you don’t think your heart has ever beat so fast. you can feel it racing beneath your skin as you run barefoot through the forest, blood rushing through your veins as you hold a hand over your mouth to muffle your desperate, horrified sobs. behind you, you can hear the man that’s been chasing you for the better part of an hour. his heavy footsteps, his terrifying laugh, his sickeningly mocking remarks as he spots the footprints you leave in the mud, unable to cover them up with him right behind you. the wind cools the tears on your face, and it feels like the archons are mocking you. you internally curse them for not granting you a vision, a way to get out of this horrible situation.

your legs burn, and your pace involuntarily gets slower as you sob helplessly, his voice filling your ears, condescending and horrible. “what’s the matter, little rabbit? i can hear you crying.” your legs give out, and you collapse on the muddy floor, your sobs increasing in their urgency as his footsteps get closer and closer. you squeeze your eyes shut, curling your body against the tree you fell against as he finally reaches you. you haven’t gotten a good look at him yet, and you hope you never do. you don’t want to put a face to the voice that’s been tormenting you all night.

you flinch when he reaches a hand out and strokes your cheek, shockingly gentle compared to what you had expected, and he lets out a condescending chuckle and yanks your jaw up to meet his eyes, growling out his words as he speaks. it seems he’s dropped the faux kindness from earlier. “look at me. look at me.” when you obediently open your eyes, sniffling and letting out pained sobs every few seconds, he grins, baring his unnaturally sharp teeth from below his mask and nodding as he appraises you. you feel like a piece of meat, and you’re sure that’s his intent. to dehumanize you, make you feel less than.

he nods to himself, then speaks again. “good. you’ll make a fine specimen, i’m sure.”

you stare up at him in fear, doe eyes widened as you try to flinch away from his iron grip. he doesn’t let you, you didn’t expect him to, though your struggling does seem to please him. you find yourself only more terrified at that fact. your voice is quiet, weak, and he only grins more at the sound. “what… what do you want from me?”

he doesn’t respond, only gives you another horribly wrong looking smile before, almost inhumanly fast, pulling out a syringe and sticking it in your neck. the last thing you remember before everything goes black is how painless it was. like he’s had practice.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the apparent lack of foliage around you, instead replaced with sinister looking metal structures and cages that are stained with something that looks horrifyingly like blood. the second thing you notice is how securely restrained you are. there’s tight, thick straps around your wrists, elbows, knees, ankles, neck, and waist, all of which have locks on them, presumably so you can’t escape.

your mind wanders back to the man in the forest, and what he injected you with. how quickly it worked and left a gap in your memory. as you think more about it, you consequently get more scared. you’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by a loud, horrible beeping noise, which you come to realize is the heart rate monitor you’ve been hooked up to. you try to take deep breaths to lower it before the man comes in and realizes you’re awake, but you fail. of course you fail.

his footsteps fill the room, and the beeping gets faster as your heart rate increases more with the terror he inspires in you. he smiles at you again, and his voice rings out, terrible and anxiety inducing. “i see you’re awake. tell me, what’s gotten you so worked up, hm? is my laboratory scary? do you not enjoy your accommodations?”

he leans in closer to you, and you feel tears starts to pool in your eyes as your body fills with dread. the man seems amused by this, cooing softly at you and pinching your cheek in a way that’s somehow more dehumanizing than anything else he’s done so far. “please… please let me go,” you’re painfully aware of how pathetic you sound as you speak, but you hope he’ll take pity on you instead. realize you aren’t meant for whatever he has planned and release you, though you know deep down that you aren’t that lucky.

he laughs, then shakes his head no before speaking again. he talks too much, you think. “i’m afraid i can’t do that, little rabbit. though, i suppose some introductions are in order. i am il dottore, the second of the featuring harbingers, and your new master. i’ve had my eye on you for some time, dear. you… intrigue me. i have never seen someone quite as pretty as you are. so, you see, i just had to have you. you understand, i’m sure,” his voice gets on your nerves, though you know it’s best to be compliant when dealing with lunatics, so you simply nod your head as best you can with your restraints as he continues.

“good. you must be wondering what i plan to do with you, correct?” you nod again. “i have many ideas, i can’t say i’ve ever felt this way before, especially about someone as insignificant as you, so there’s quite a few things i’d like to try. of course, i will bathe you, then examine you more thoroughly than i managed in the forest. after i’ve collected your baseline vital statistics, and you have been thoroughly examined and cleaned, i will take you. for my research, of course. i believe it would be beneficial to encourage in coitus with you, as it might help me to better understand the origin of these feelings.”

you’re sure he can see the alarm on your face at how casually he mentions violating you in such a personal way, for he gives you a pat on the head that you think is meant to be comforting. it has the opposite effect, it only makes you more concerned. you shake your head no and give him a desperate, pleading look, your eyes filling with tears at the thought. “please, no! anything but that, i swear i won’t ever try to leave, just… please, don’t!”

his eyes light up, and you finally realize he’s removed his mask. you had been too caught up in your panicked fear to really pay attention to him, but as you examine him, his heavily scarred face, his blood red eyes, his aquiline nose. he’s… undeniably attractive, your brain supplies. you immediately try to push those thoughts away, he just said he was planning on raping you, for archon’s sake, you cannot find him attractive. he clearly picks up on your inner struggle, judging from the amused smile he wears and the way he leans in closer to you, softly caressing your cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“i suppose if you’re that against me taking you vaginally, i could find another way to have you. though i can’t promise it will be as pleasant. it is quite hard to give the recipient pleasure in other orifices,” his cologne fills your nostrils as he leans in so close to you, your lips just barely touching. he smells like roses and leather, with just a hint of blood and bleach along with other chemical smells you can’t quite place. you hate yourself for thinking it, but it’s not an entirely unpleasant scent. in fact, you think you’d quite enjoy it on anyone else.

he hums, nosing against your throat and leaving a bite where your neck meets your shoulder. it’s painful, and you have to bite your tongue to resist crying out as the tears that had been building finally start to fall. you can’t hold back the choked sob that escapes when you feel the copious amount of blood that falls from the wound, sure to leave a scar. an inescapable, undeniable, permanent reminder of what he’s done to you and what he plans to do to you.

he ignores your distress, only whispering half hearted coos as he licks up all the blood from your fresh bite mark and groans softly at the taste. the realization that he’s getting pleasure from this makes bile start to rise up your throat. “shh, shh… you taste divine. perhaps that’s why i’m so enchanted with you. you’ve put a spell on me.”

dottore softly laps up the blood that pours from your wound, and you hate yourself a little more for thinking the feeling is somewhat pleasant. his tongue is soothing on your wound, his saliva is unnaturally cold, and surprisingly doesn’t make the cuts sting. you don’t know if it’s the blood loss or the paralyzing fear you’re feeling, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away.

he pulls his mouth away from your wound and wipes the last few beads of blood away from it with his thumb. he examines the way the ruby red liquid reflects the light and contrasts the back leather of his glove as it sits on his finger, and then he brings his thumb to your lips, his tone leaving no room for argument as he commands you. “open.”

you reluctantly obey, looking at him tiredly as the blood loss starts to hit you more and more, your vision slowly starting to become fuzzy at the edges, painting everything in a sort of giddy haze as the pain mixes with the pleasant feelings his sweet words and scent invoke in you. he gives you a smile, patting your head once again as he slides his thumb, still carrying your blood, into your open mouth. “good… good pet,” his hand strokes your forehead comfortingly, and the lights suddenly seem all too bright, your eyebrows furrowing weakly as you try to turn your head away from them.

“shh… just sleep, little rabbit. i’ll take good care of you. when you wake, i’ll be ready for the last part of my plans.”

you don’t have time to really think about what he means by that before the fuzzy edges of your vision fade completely to black, your consciousness quickly ebbing away.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

you’re passing out far too often for your liking, you decide as you come to. this time, you’ve been restrained on a soft bed in what looks like the private chambers of some very wealthy individual. it takes a moment for everything to come back to you, but the dull, throbbing pain in your shoulder quickly helps you remember.

you examine your surroundings once more, taking note of the black and dark blue color scheme of the room, along with the silver accents and luxurious feel of, what you assume is, dottore’s sheets. as you try to move to assess how secure your bindings are this time, you come to a horrifying realization. you aren’t wearing your knee length, cotton chemise anymore, and there isn’t a trace of any mud on your skin. someone has bathed and changed your clothes, into a much more revealing, practically see through babydoll dress.

you realize something even more horrific as you examine your body more closely. someone has also shaved you completely bare.

your attention is snapped to the door as dottore enters, holding a briefcase that gives you a horrible feeling. “good, you’re awake. i was almost worried i had injured you fatally.” he sets the briefcase down on the bed, not giving you a moment to speak, and pulls out a terrifyingly sharp dagger, turning to you with a small smile.

“now, since you seemed so distraught over me having vaginal intercourse with you, i’ve decided on an alternative,” he doesn’t elaborate further, only approaching you and inspecting your body as he marks out various places, mostly on your upper thigh or abdomen. you feel horribly exposed, wearing nothing but a sheer, short babydoll, but there’s nothing you can do about it. you have no idea what he plans to do, but you’re sure it will be torturous.

he finally settles on a spot, a fatty area just above your belly button on the left side, and he walks over to that side of the bed with the blade. he marks out a relatively large circle with a pen, and you realize what he means to do.

your struggles are reignited, and you start to sob as he places the pen back in his breast pocket and gently shushes you. “calm down. it will only be worse for you if you struggle, dear.”

your sobs grow louder as he makes the first incision, you start thrashing around in your bindings and trying desperately to get away from his blade. you give him a pleading look as he continues to carve a horrifyingly deep hole into your skin, and your voice is weak, breaking with every word from the excruciating pain of getting carved into without any sort of numbing solution. “p-please, can- can’t, ‘s- ‘s hurting me, st-stop-!”

he completely ignores you, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from his bag and spraying it on the large wound. your pain is only increased, and you realize why you’re retrained so tightly. he finally looks back at your tear covered face, and gives you a smile as he pets your hair. “there, the hard part is over. now it’s time to continue the experiment.”

you sob, shaking your head no as you cry out from the pain, watching in horror as he undoes his pants just enough to pull his cock out. he positions it at the hole he’s created for himself, and, without any sort of warning, thrusts himself deep inside. you cry out, choking on your sobs and gagging from the all encompassing pain as bile starts to rise up in your throat once again.

he gives a deep moan as he starts to move, completely uncaring of your protests and the agony you’re in as he chases his own pleasure inside of you. his fingers curl around the other side of your torso, and he pulls you into each of his thrusts, only increasing your pain. “you truly are fantastic…”

you think you’re going to be sick.

how dare he enjoy this? how dare he violate you in such a way and have the gall to moan about it? if you had the strength, you think you might kill him.

you dissociate for most of the experience, something your eternally grateful for. you don’t want to remember any of it. the feeling of his thrusts into your limp body starting to falter and his cock twitching inside your, now more of a gash, really, remind you of the very real threat that he’ll cum inside of your large wound.

before you get a chance to plead with him not to, though, you feel the burning, hot liquid fill the space nothing should ever touch. it hurts, almost more than the actual fucking did, and you think you pass out from the feeling.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

when you come to for the third time, you’ve been bandaged and stitched up and dottore holds you in his arms, tucked snugly against his side while he writes notes, presumably about the torture he’s just put you through. he smiles down at you, petting your hair once again before he stands up, leaving you tied to the bed. “i wished to make sure you would wake up. now i must get back to my work.” he pauses in the doorway as he leaves. “you were wonderful, and my hypothesis was incorrect. having intercourse with you did not cure me. in fact, it only made me more taken with you. …i have decided to keep you, in light of this revelation.”

with that, he swiftly walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. you cry softly to yourself, and then feel a sudden weight on your lap. as you look down, you feel bitterness fill you at the sight.

there, sitting perfectly on your lap, taunting you, is a shiny, anemo vision.

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fuckyeahisawthat · 6 months

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So one thing I’m noticing rewatching OFMD s2 is that the more episodes in a row I watch, the less the pacing problems of any one individual episode bother me—particularly in episodes 6-8 where I think they were struggling the most to hit all the beats they wanted to. This makes me think about alternate release schedules and how our perception of the episodes might have changed based on how they were grouped together. Some possibilities to imagine:

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

Pros: two a week. Nice and even. We would’ve been losing our damn minds at that episode 2 cliffhanger the first week of the season.

Cons: Mermaid Stede impact somewhat lessened; 1-3 really do make a nice package. First kiss of the season + first fuck in the same week would’ve been a LOT.

1-3 / 4-5 / 6-8

Pros: I know they wanted to spread it out over 4 weeks but this actually makes the most sense structurally. Separates 5 and 6.

Cons: Imagine if we’d been processing 6, 7 and 8 all at once.

1-3 / 4-6 / 7-8

Pros: this would also make sense from a structural standpoint. Probably the most tonally coherent option.

Cons: 5 and 6 are together again.

1-3 / 4-5 / 6 / 7-8

This would have been unhinged but brilliant. We all would have guessed what made 6 a Very Special Episode worthy of its own solo release week and we would have been so happy to be right.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #story structure

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writergeekrhw · 1 year

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25 THINGS I’VE LEARNED IN 25 YEARS IN TV WRITING

Well, it’s actually been 30 years now, but here’s a spew I did 5 years ago on the bird app to commemorate my 25 years as a TV writer.

I’ve edited it a bit for clarity. Hopefully some of you will find it useful.

1. In TV writing (and writing in general) there is only one unbreakable rule: Thou shalt not be boring.

2. Write characters people want to hang out with for an hour or so once a week for years to come. Even if they're bad people, make them interesting, engaging bad people.

3. If your lead is a bad person, make them funny and/or sexy. Direct most of their bad behavior toward other bad people or themselves. Make them well motivated. Maintain rooting interest.

4. What makes a character special should be intertwined with what makes them struggle. Perfect people are boring.

5. Characters should complement/conflict with each other. No two characters should serve the same purpose/have the same backstory/have the same voice.

6. Cast the best actor, adjust the character to suit.

7. Give your leads the best lines/moments. No one is tuning in to watch the funny guest star. Like Garry Marshall said back on HAPPY DAYS, “I’m paying Henry Winkler $25,000 an episode. Give the Fonz the jokes.”

8. Your characters, good & bad, should reflect the reality of our wonderful, diverse world. White male shouldn’t be the default.

9. Avoid stereotypes. Stereotypes are boring.

10. If all your POV characters know some secret, the audience should know it too.

11. If your show hinges on a big mystery, know more or less what the truth is from the beginning. You can change it later if you need to, but write to a specific.

12. If your story doesn’t test your characters mentally, physically, psychologically, emotionally, or spiritually, you don’t have a story.

13. You can start by figuring out the Beginning, the Middle, or the End, but you don’t have an episode until you have all three.

14. Big suspenseful act outs (the last moments before the commercials) aren’t just a gimmick. They’re a good way to structure an hour of entertainment to make sure the audience is invested and your pacing is solid.

15. Every scene should be a consequence of the previous scene or a refutation of it.

16. A scene also needs a Beginning, Middle, and End. The end should propel the characters and/or audience into the next scene.

17. Every scene is a negotiation/confrontation between two or more characters who want different things or have different ideas on how to solve the same problem.

18. A good action scene is still a character scene. With punching. (This applies to sex scenes too, but you know, with sex.)

19. A crap page is better than a blank one.

20. It’s easier to cut than to add.

21. Good things rarely happen in the Writers Room after dinner. Go home, get some rest, write pages at home if you have to, start fresh in the morning. Writers who have a life outside the writing room are better writers. Beware the showrunner who doesn't want to go home to their family. That said…

22. Script by day one of Pre-Production. No matter what.

23. You’re a writer first. Almost nothing happening on set or in post is more important than the writing. Delegate when possible.

24. Make an extra effort to surround yourself with writers who are different from you (background, race, gender, orientation, etc). Listen to their perspectives, especially on experiences alien to you.

25. And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make. In TV writing and life in general.

PART TWO HERE:

https://at.tumblr.com/writergeekrhw/25-things-in-25-years-part-2-25-things-ive/okjzwofyiq6i

#tv writing #tv #showbiz #writing #screenwriting #advice

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lightwing-s · 3 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: a helping hand turns an enemy into a friend for one single night of truce. one single night that ends up redefining their entire relationship, the start of where everything is about to change.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 6,4k warnings: mentions of heavy drinking, sex, p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering, language, size kink, breast play, male dominance, jason's sex stimulated superiority complex

a/n: the fact this was supposed to be way longer scared me of how many chapters i might need to end this series lol. and i tried making it possible to read without the context of the series for those who just want to read a nice smut lol. also, thank you for all the support thus far, it has been incredible seeing so many people invested in this story and wanting to see its development. thank you thank you thank you for supporting this silly writer's dream. ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

Thanks, man. Have a good night. Shutting the door closed behind him, Jason thanked the driver before he watched his Uber ride drive his car away, turning the corner and leaving the street he was left on. The night was cold and dark, the faint lighting of the streetlamp doing nothing to provide him a clear view of his ambiance, instead, all was gloom.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building, he let out a deep, long sigh. It was late, really late, past 1am the last time he checked, and the weight of the alcohol in his system begged him to find his way to bed. But the soft, barely audible, breaths of the lady behind him reminded Jason he still had a task ahead: getting you to his apartment.

As a strong wind blew past him, he zipped his jacket up, protecting himself from the unusually chilly night, for this time of the year at least, and turned on his heels to find you resting against the stony wall of the old structure, eyes narrowly managing to remain open. You felt the weather as much as he did, hugging yourself to acquire some type of warmth despite your inappropriate attire.

Carefully, he approached your sleepy frame and guided you inside, a hand placed on your back the entire walk up the stairs. Jason’s building was old, but well maintained. Meaning, it looked decent for all the decades it’d been through, but didn’t have an elevator casting on whoever lived on the last floor (Jason) the curse to climb all the way up every single day.

Already struggling due to the alcohol and tiredness, halfway through your journey you let out a moan without realizing. Your pace grew slower, and you lacked the effort to simply lift your legs and place your foot on the next step.

“Come on, love. We’re getting closer.” Jason said, pausing right behind you. He had to hold his laugh as you turned back to face him, eyes watery and lips sticking out in a pout.

“Why didn’t we use the elevator? Do you hate me?” you cried.

“Not everyone has daddy’s money to afford an apartment with an elevator,” he joked, but your response caught him by surprise, as your face crunched into a sort of angry expression mixed with a tint of sadness.

“I’m not… I…” you tried to mumble out, but failed countless times. “My feet hurt!”

Sighing deeply once more, he pushed you up by your waist, hands placed safely around you but alway mindful of its position. As you reached the next floor, you thanked your slow mind tonight for not allowing a scream to leave your mouth when Jason grabbed your legs and lifted you up so he could carry you to his apartment.

You had to say, it should’ve surprised you that he carried you with what seemed like a total lack of effort on his part, like you weighed nothing. However, you knew him. You knew he spent countless hours training at the gym, to the point you often wondered if he didn’t live there as well. That he’d often pass you carrying up to eight different weight plates in one single trip to use in his next exercise.

It did surprise you he could carry you. It surprised you he actually did it.

On his arm, the sweet coconut smell reached your nose, and you had to hold yourself from feeling sick. The alcohol was doing its job on you, and gosh you hated it. Tiredness taking over, you rested your head on his shoulder and fought against yourself to keep your eyes open.

“How much do you lift?” you mumbled a question, poking the bicep within your reach. You felt his breath hit your skin as he let out a soft chuckle.

“A lot more than you weight.” he stated, and continued his climb silently until you two were inside his deliciously warm and scrupulously tidy apartment. “Come,” he called after you when your feet were back on the ground. You followed him through the darkened living room until he opened a door and turned the light on in his bedroom. “You can sleep here, I’ll take the sofa.”

Your polite and sober side wanted to complain, to offer to sleep on the sofa instead, but your drunk and seriously exhausted one just wanted to throw yourself on the bed. Accepting the drunk side’s victory, you sat down with a noise and laid on his bed, eyes closing soon after, but being forced to open as you felt the mattress sink right beside you.

Struggling to lift your head, you found Jason bent down to catch your feet, loosening the laces of your converse and helping you take them off. “Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed as you sat up again and started to unhook your bra from beneath your shirt.

Jason got nervous, eyes quickly shifting from you to the floor, not knowing what to do. Pulling your bra off through one of your sleeves, he took it as his key to leave you alone before you could start stripping off your pants too. Standing up, he reached the bedroom door just as you were climbing under the duvet, head laying on the pillow with eyes already closed.

He knew that, in your state, it wouldn’t be long before you were in deep slumber. So, turning off the lights, peeking at you one last time, he closed the door behind him. Careful to not make any noise. Careful not to wake you up. Unaware of the smile gracing his lips.

It’d been well over an hour since you had fallen asleep. The darkness still loomed outside, but the dim lighting of Jason’s side table lamp illuminated his living room, casting a shadow upon his body.

Jason couldn’t fall asleep, for some reason. He had tried lying down and forcing his eyes closed, had tried listening to whale sounds, rain sounds, brown, blue, black, white, purple noises. Nothing. Nothing seemed to put him to bed, not even his half drunk state.

So, feeling exhausted, he stood up from the sofa and went to the small kitchen to make himself some tea, hoping it would help him give in to sleep. He tried to be quiet, mindful of his guest still sleeping in his bed, filled his red mug with the tea and returned to the sofa, sitting beside his also sleeping kitten, whose snores were too loud for a beast of his size.

The drink was warm, and the taste pleased him just enough. He immediately felt more relaxed, letting the warmth fill his entire body, as he laid back onto the sofa and he could really feel like he was starting to rest.

On the other hand, you woke up confused. It was dark, and the pillows were comfortable, but they didn’t smell like your soap, nor did you find your childhood plush toy just within reach on your bed. Suddenly sober, you almost jumped off the bed before the memories started flooding your mind.

Shit. You definitely weren’t home, and this home certainly wasn’t from someone you wished it was. Slowly, you remembered Jason helping you take your shoes off, remembered him helping you up the infinite stairs of his building. And gosh, you remembered his damned smirk while he flirted with you.

You were pissed. P-i-s-s-e-d. Pissed. Why did you do that, Yn? Why did you end up here? Where the fuck did Nessie go to and why didn’t you go home?

In the darkness, you felt your feet touch the cold wooden tiles and you had to bring them back up quickly, not expecting the chilly night weather, but soon remembering how cold you’d felt just before coming to his apartment.

Your bare legs were feeling it too, and you struggled to find your pair of jeans. It wasn’t anywhere, goddamn it. There was no way you’d go out in only your shirt. You had to find something, and remembering you were in a 6 foot tall monster, you knew he ought to have something around.

Blindly skirmishing through the room, you felt the soft cotton fabric of what seemed to be a hoodie and put it on. It fit largely on you, the hem falling on the middle of your thighs, and the strong smell of perfume lingering from it.

With light footsteps, you got to the door. Twisting the handle with care, you heard the cracking sound of the door as you opened it, exposing the dimly lit living room. Jason heard the same cracking sound you did, his head jolting back so fast he felt the muscles on his neck aching.

There you were, hidden behind the door, a string of light illuminating your shape. You still looked sleepy, your cheeks puffed, and the minimum makeup you wore looked smashed on your face. But then, his eyes fell on your body, how your legs were bare and you somehow wore his favorite red hoodie.

Wow. Just, wow!

“Hey” he greeted, waving awkwardly in your direction. You only offered him a shy, toothless smile, eyes scanning the room and landing everywhere but him. “Did I wake you?” he asked, voice tinged by worry.

“No,” you shook your head, meeting his eyes for a brief while. His stare gave you goosebumps, and you returned your eyes to the floor, the tiling giving you more comfort. “I just… woke up.”

An awkward silence fell before you, neither brave enough to look at the other. The air was warm, you didn’t know if it was a sudden weather change or if it was the lingering tension between you two.

“I,” you started, and he immediately looked at you. “I think I’m gonna head home.” you announce, trying to return to the safety of his bedroom.

“No way,” he denied. “It’s almost 4am, Yn. There’s no way I’m letting you out this late. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

Sighing, you accepted defeat without even trying to counter argue, aware his decision was well intended, and you too didn’t feel like facing the gloomy and dangerous streets of Gotham at this hour of the night. So, you just nodded, looking back into the room without moving your feet.

“Can I give you something?” he then questioned. “I mean. Do you want anything? Food, water?” Like clockwork, your stomach roared, making your cheeks go red and a smirk to appear on Jason’s face. “I don’t have much in my pantry, but I can make you a sandwich.”

Standing up, he walked to the kitchen once again, mug in hand being left on the sink. He seemed to move around the small area seamlessly, his bigger size never slowing him down. He opened cabinets, taking out of it a couple of dishes and a bag with a long and crusty baguette. Slicing the bread in half and then open, he set it on the plates, spreading butter on top and fishing for the other ingredients from various parts of the kitchen.

“I’m not a chef, you know,” Jason told you while he fished for the cheese, the ham, the vegetables and something else from the fridge. In normal human arms, they’d probably have fallen due the lack of space, but they all seemed to fit in pretty well in his much larger ones. “But I do enjoy cooking sometimes.”

His whole energy levels seemed to rise, and a sparkle tingled in his eyes. He seems to really enjoy it, you thought, watching the scene unfold from the same spot under the doorframe you were not even two minutes before. He was swift, picking things up and down , left and right, with ease and started constructing a delicious looking late night meal.

With watchful steps, you walked closer, something in you wanting to watch him in action from up close. Too enticed by the way he moved, the way he meticulously cut the tomatoes, a green vegetable, that you didn’t recognize due to your total lack of cooking skills, and the garlic before shoving them on a blender. The noise that proceeded, a disturbance of the silence that reigned on the night, but when it ceased, the smell that spread across the room seemed all worth it.

Continuing his craft, he was swift, picking things up and down with ease, spreading butter on the bread, adding cheese, sliced turkey from the smell of it, and the tomatoes. He grilled it on a pan he had started to heat while he assembled your snacks, and shortly after, placed a plate with the sandwich in front of you on the kitchen island.

“I didn’t know if you liked pesto, so I left it here for you to dip in if you want.” he stated, placing a small bowl with the green sauce he’d blended together earlier.

“Wow,” was all you could manage to say, the sandwich’s look worthy of those pins you’d constantly save on Pintrest but never make it yourself. Picking it up with one hand, you wanted to try it first on its own, your stomach getting louder, apparently aware you were just about to fill it and getting anxious over the masterpiece crafted just before your eyes. “Hmmm,” you hummed loudly, closing your eyes and enjoying the taste, your mouth already watering for one more bite.

You heard Jason’s breathy laugh, and your attention was instantly brought back to him. Supported by his elbows on the marble island, he sat beside you, his side profile a beautiful view from where you stood. He had a smirk on his lips, not smug or annoying or flirtatious like he usually had, but a lighthearted and fun one. One that didn’t drive you insane.

Looking at him, though, side by side with you, after making you a sandwich at almost 4am in the morning, you felt a lump on your throat you could not explain or justify. It was something no one had ever done for you and for some reason you wanted to cry. But you wouldn’t, instead, opting to do the sanest thing anyone could do in your position.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, his eyes darting to yours and his eyebrows doing their annoying move and lifting up in question. “For everything. Tonight, especially, but at the hospital too. You were really kind and you didn’t have to do either of those things. So, thank you, really.”

A smile you could not decipher clouded his lips, and his eyes shone with a glint of mischievousness you could not mistake. “Say it again?” he joked, and you had to roll your eyes.

“Jerk.”

“Sounds more like you,” he sneered, finally taking a bite out of his sandwich. He dipped it in the sauce, taking another bite, and you took your time admiring his jaw clenching as he chewed. “But you don’t need to thank me. I hurt you that day and it was the polite thing to do. And I couldn’t just leave you drunk at the party, it didn’t seem right.”

“Why not?” you questioned. “There were many other drunk girls at the party.”

“Yeah, but none of them looked like they didn’t belong there,” he stated, soon regretting letting those words out of his lips. He knew it’d bring out more questions, and he didn’t want to spend his night explaining how you would linger in his head on a daily basis.

“Why not?” If Jason wasn’t so tired, he’d notice you’d felt insulted.

“I don’t mean today,” he said, playing with the sauce with his sandwich. “You were having fun today, but I’ve seen you before…”

“Why?” you insisted impatiently.

“Because people go to parties for either or two things: to have fun with their friends or to find a hookup,” he lifted two of his long fingers to you. “That day, you were clearly alone. You stood to the side all night, not talking to anyone, almost barking at whoever came closer. Option one impossible. And you also weren’t exposing too much skin to fit into the other.”

“I was having fun tonight!” you tried to argue.

“Yeah, but your friend had disappeared. And you were too drunk. I couldn’t leave you there, alone to the wolves,” he concluded, staring deep into your eyes. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I did.”

He seemed honest. And nice. Actually nice, like, he looked like a decent person, not the one you villainized in your thoughts every day. He was nice, a sweetheart, and a great cook if his sandwich was any indication of what else he could do in a kitchen. It wasn’t supposed to, but it only made you madder at him. You wanted to punch his face while also giving him a kiss. Stop it, Yn, don’t go that far.

You were quiet, not knowing what else to say. Jason decided on not speaking too, buried in his own thoughts, afraid he’d let too much out. Finishing your food, you dipped the bread into the pesto when the intrusive thoughts came over, and for once, you let them win.

“No…” Jason gasped when he felt the cold sauce on his cheek. You let out a good chuckle, looking at the green stain on his face. Your masterpiece. But Jason was competitive, he wouldn’t let you win. So, he dipped his own bread in the sauce and tried to do the same as you, but you held his arms to stop him before he could stain yet another one of your shirts. His in this case.

It took all your strength to keep his arms away, your laughter, louder than it had been in a long while, making the job much more difficult. “Jason,” you screamed when he got too close for your liking, but you managed to hold his hand and, to his surprise, took one bite of his weapon.

You really couldn’t stop laughing. Tears formed in your eyes from it, and all Jason could do was shake his head and finish the last bite of his sandwich you’d left for him. He felt good seeing you smile again, laughing even, and he just confirmed it was now one of his favorite sounds. It wasn’t polished, it was loud, fun. Everything you usually weren’t, but proof you could be sometimes, if only you’d allow yourself to let loose.

He waited till you calmed down, taking deep breaths to steady it. Then, you stretched your arms to grab a towel opposite of you on the islands, cleaning your hands before looking back at him. “Here,” you called.

His heart stopped. Your hands going for his chin and pulling his face closer to yours, cleaning the pesto stain you’d left on his cheek. Jason had never seen you from this close, every detail exposed to him. The way you sucked in your cheeks in concentration, as you cleaned his face, your soft touch barely brushing his skin, aware not to give him any type of skin irritation.

From this close, he could get a better glimpse of your lips. How they were plumb from you biting on it, how reddish they were, how soft they looked. He watched them as the tip of your smile briefly lifted up. And then, watched your tongue leaving them wet.

You were aware of closeness too. But you had committed to cleaning the stain, you couldn’t show him any weakness now. Pulling away slowly, you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips, setting your stomach in a spiral. He bit his lips, lifting his eyes to look at yours through his lashes, and your heart nearly stopped. Your breath hitched, and you had to look away.

“Hmm,” you started, avoiding his gaze and himself entirely. “I think I’ll go back to bed, it’s late.”

Something inside Jason dropped, and he felt a weight in his chest. You stood up quickly, and walked back into the bedroom without looking back. Fuck, he wanted to scream, but he had to contain himself. So, he stood up, set the plates on the sink and made his way back to the sofa. The tightness in his jeans making it uncomfortable to walk.

Resting against the door as you closed it, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart raced, wanting to break free from your chest, and you felt the warmth rising from within you. Your legs trembled a little, and your mind flew to things you did not wish to think of right now.

You couldn’t give in. You couldn’t. Jason meant trouble, and trouble meant bad things. You couldn’t let yourself fall for it again. You couldn’t invite trouble in, even if it looked as pleasing as he did. He was nice to you tonight because he was polite, but you knew his type well and knew it never ended well. He was just like the others, he’s not perfect, stop it!

A knock on the door broke you from your thoughts, and as if caught doing something bad, you were quick to react to opening it.

“Can I just get some clothes?” Jason asked, heading poking inside. “I just don’t want to sleep in the same clothes from the party.”

Giving him space, you allowed him in. He gave you a weak smile as he pass you, going in the direction of his closet. He indeed was wearing the same outfit from earlier, jeans, and a white shirt you could notice had some green stains on it. Karma.

“I’ve noticed you found my hoodie,” he pointed out while fishing for his pajamas, making your cheeks burn red. You went to apologize, but he was quicker to continue. “You can keep it, if it makes you comfortable.”

He turned back to face you, and you offered him a smile in gratitude. Suddenly mindful of your exposed legs, you tried to hide it with your hands, but you noticed how it only got his attention in that direction. He was about to leave when something made him stop.

“I need a blanket,” he said, running back to the closet. “Just a minute.”Jason was tall, but he seemingly was part of the crew who would hide their blankets on the tallest shelves, so tall that even he couldn’t reach properly. He stretched his arms up, the heels of his feet not touching the floor, and his shirt lifted up just a little. A treat for a very tired Yn to enjoy.

From your position, you caught a sight of his stomach up to his belly button. The toned muscles on the base of his abs made a perfect V shape, pointing downwards to a place you avoided imagining. A few of his tattoos peeked in and out of view as he moved, decorating his skin in drawings you could hardly identify. The thin line of hair going down the cherry on top of this tempting monstrosity.

Through his white t-shirt, you spotted the silhouette of his back muscles. Well defined, well designed, strong enough to carry two of you up the stairs, and wide enough making it the perfect canvas to be painted by your nails.

You knew your mind was traveling through a very dangerous territory. You knew where it was going. You knew the consequences, yet you wanted it. You wanted the danger, you wanted the consequence. Just this once. Just this once you wanted the bad, the naughty, the dangerous. You wanted Jason. You wanted him. You wanted him.

Fuck, you wanted to scream. Run at him, kiss him. Kiss up the hair line on his stomach, up his abs, his chest. Damn it!

You didn’t notice him moving, wishing you a good night, walking to the door. You didn’t notice any of it. Didn’t notice his intoxicating smell leaving the room, because you knew your mind could make it up pretty quickly. Filling your nose with his inexistent scent. His shadow looming around you, with you at all times.

“Yn,” he broke you from your thoughts. He was worried. You stood still before the bed, not moving since he walked past you, not even your eyes following him along, or moving somewhere else. He’d called you before, but you hadn’t noticed. “Are you alright?”

He’d walked back in, closer to you. Approaching you worriedly, your breathing heavy, eyes now lingering on him. He couldn’t decipher them. They were darker, darker than he’d ever seen them. They hid something, something he couldn’t figure out.

“Yeah,” you breathed out a reply. “I’m fine,” you confirmed, arm extending to touch his chest. Jason’s breath got caught on his throat, and when he looked back at you, he found your eyes, and finally could decipher them. “I’m really fine.”

Sliding your hands from his chest up to his neck, you brought him closer, slamming your lips against his. A shiver climbed up your spine as you felt his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, and yours soon fought with him for dominance.

You couldn’t explain it. It just fit. He kissed you hungrily, like he’d been wanting it for long, and you replied with the same ferociousness, wanting him closer, more and more. You fingers tugged at the little hairs at the nape of his neck, and he moaned inside your mouth, the vibration reverberating through your entire body.

His hands roamed your skin. Squeezing your ass, caressing your back from underneath his hoodie. The feeling of his hands around you waking the little hairs on your body wherever they touched, leaving behind a burning sensation, a need for more of his touch all over body.

Stumbling, you two took a few footsteps backwards, feeling the ends of the bed hit your calves. He carefully lowered you on top of it, not breaking your kiss until you were left out of breath. When you two finally broke apart, he took the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head, exposing you to the tattoos you’d had a hard time identifying earlier.

An angel falling graced his left ribs, while something was written underneath his right boob. Overwall, you couldn’t count how many were there, you just knew they made him sexier and your cunt ache harder for him. Lifting yourself up a little, you pulled him back to you by the hem of his jeans, your mouths meeting soon after, afraid that if you had too much time to think about it, your mind would force you to stop whatever the hell this was.

On top of you, lips glued to yours, Jason started grinding his crotch against your clothed core, feeling his hardness through the harsh fabric of his jeans and only eliciting your arousal. Trapping your legs around his waist, you bent your back so you could reach him further, grinding yourself against him in a clothed love making session.

You wanted more. You need more. Desperately wanting him in. It was a wild, primal feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in ages. Or ever at all. You needed him, like you needed air. You needed his tongue all over you, not just on your lips or occasionally traveling to your neck.

His hands slid underneath your shirt, and he broke the kiss to ask you for permission to take it off. His eyes looked at you with a mix of lust and something else, something softer. With a nod, he swiftly had both your shirt and his hoodie thrown off somewhere in his bedroom.

You didn’t want to waste more time, sliding your underwear off too as soon as your breasts were freed, finding yourself fully exposed to the guy that just a few hours ago you would rather find dead than in his bed.

Seeing you rush your underwear off, Jason had to stop and admire. Admire your body and all your curves. Your bare chest, your hard nipples, a sight Jason wanted pictured in his mind forever.

He wanted to remember how your excitement dripped off your thighs, its smell reaching his nose, intoxicating him. Driving him crazier for you than he already was. He really wanted to rip his pants off and fuck you right then and there. Slam his dick into you until he had you screaming out his name for the whole neighborhood to hear. But he also wanted to devour you little by little, taste every corner of your skin.

Pulling you closer from under the knee, he spread you open and fell on top of you again, resuming the action on your lips before moving his kisses down your neck and to your chest. He made sure to leave marks wherever he’d go. He made sure to bite, to suck on your skin until little red and purple stains decorated you instead of your shirt.

His hand, once holding tightly at your waist, found its way down too. Sliding to your arousal, he felt his fingers drench wet as they reached your soaked pussy. Finding you like that, so wet from just his kisses and touches, boosted his ego, giving him extra confidence he could do to you whatever he wanted.

Pushing one finger into you, he felt your body jolt up. He laughed against your skin as his mouth finally found its way to your breasts. He fucked you with one finger while sucking harshly at your nipples. You moaned loud, already feeling a tightness forming on your belly, that sweet but painful sensation you hadn’t felt in a while.

When he pushed another finger inside of you, speeding up his movements in and out while his thumb managed to somehow rub at your clit till it ached, it didn’t take long for you to see black spots in your sight. It did take long for your back to arch up, a muffled scream leaving your lung.

Nibbling at your nipple still, Jason took your moans and screams as motivation. He laughed as you came as if you were just a prey he was playing with, mocking your petite, fragile frame underneath him. Slapping your cunt, he moved his mouth to quickly play with your neglected boob before his tongue drew a line from between your breasts to the entrance to your core.

You could already feel your breath leaving your lungs, your mind half numb from your orgasm and tiredness. His breath hit your folds, as he pecked his way down to your entrance, licking from your ass to your clit, as you had to put a hand over your mouth to stop your screams.

Like a thirsty dog, Jason licked you up and down between your lower lips. His whole mouth stuffed on your vagina, enjoying your sweet taste filling his taste buds. You squirmed from the sensasion, so much he had to pin you down with his strong arms. You tried to push his head away, tug on his hair, anything to make him stop, already aching down there. But it also felt good, and you could feel another orgasm growing inside you.

However, he removed his face from your cunt as soon as he felt you were about to come. He was enjoying torturing you, making you weak to his touch. He wasn’t going to give in much easier, but he also needed to feel you. Feel you around him, sucking him dry till he himself was left just a moaning mess.

Fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants, he managed them down his legs, pulling with them his boxers, letting his hard penis hit against his stomach. You let out a gasp when you saw his erection, already knowing it was going to hurt but be so worth it. He was thick, probably the size of your hands around it, and just long enough.

Jason looked around, trying to remember where he’d last put his condoms on, before your voice void his mind of any coherent thought.

“Fuck me, Jason,” you begged, hands reach to touch his dick. “Please, fuck me.”

“Fuuuck,” he let out a loud and prolonged groan, forgetting everything and placing himself at your entrance. He pushed the tip in, getting a painful moan out of you. You were tight, but he was going to make himself fit.

Collecting your juices, he rubbed it along his shaft, pressing himself in ever so slowly. As he entered, you molded yourself perfectly around him, taking him in entirely eventually. He let you adjust, allowing you to get used to his size. Lowering down, he pulled you into another kiss. This time, deeper, slower, hotter.

He started with slow thrusts, moving out entirely before placing himself back in. You moaned and your body jumped every time he moved. His low groans on your ear making you wetter, and his speed started to pick up.

The sound of skin hitting skin getting louder, filling the room along the strong smell of your sinful act. The bed creaked and hit against the wall along with Jason’s thrusts. He started to gain more and more speed, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder.

He modded as the action gave him more access to your cunt, speed going so fast your boobs bounced up and down vigorously. With the spare had the wasn’t holding your leg up, he reached for your clit and your moans only got louder, screaming Jason’s name like a fucking prayer. Begging for release.

He’d sobered up from the party a long time ago, but he was getting drunk on the sight of your glistening skin, coated in sweat, screaming his name as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Not rolling out of anger, or annoyance. But because he was making you feel so fucking good you couldn’t control yourself anymore.

Jason felt like a king. Total control over you as you felt your mind go numb, drunk on his cock, drunk on the sensation he was giving you. He moved his hips harshly, slamming against your wet core like a MMA fighter fights his opponent. He felt the growing knot on his abdomen, speeding his thumb’s movements, wanting you to cum along with him.

A few more thrusts had you screaming so loud Jason had to put his hands over your mouth to shut you up, afraid his neighbors wouldn’t enjoy your fucked up symphony. He felt your release hitting his cock and he too released inside of you, feeling your walls clenching around him, milking his ball dry of any cum he had to offer.

The room was now filled with groans and heavy breaths. The air was thick and warm, and the smell of sex sticking to every corner. He pulled out, watching you juices mixed up and dripping off your pussy. Sticking a finger inside, he took some of you mixed orgasm and put it on his tongue. He didn’t lick it, instead just placing it there before lowering himself to give you a kiss, making sure you two got to taste your second late night snack together.

When you pulled away, begging for air, he had his forehead rested on yours. His eyes were closed, and his hair stuck to your forehead from sweat. Something you’d seen many times at the gym, now got a completely new meaning to you. One you enjoyed a lot more, seeing and making it happen.

You too closed your eyes, tiredness weighing your lashes down, as you barely missed Jason’s body falling beside you. You also missed his arms wrapping around your waist, and his face snuggling into your neck. Soon falling into slumber, a delicious ache on your core, as the dream world quickly took over you.

It wasn’t until hours later that the bright sun beams hit your eyes, or the loud noises of Gotham’s traffic found your ears. Eyes taking too long to open, as you woke up more tired than usual. Your body ached in pain, every muscle seemingly sore, but you didn’t remember going to the gym yesterday.

You only remembered you had to work and ended up getting drunk at a party. You remembered getting mad at your parents and deciding you had to release all your anger doing something they’d despise. You remembered your gym enemy taking you home. To his or mine? You wondered, eyes finally opening to the unknown bedroom.

Fuck. Looking behind you, you found Jason’s body spread on the same bed you now laid, and you quickly became aware of your own lack of an outfit. No, no, no. You went too far. You were just supposed to get drunk at a party, not fuck a stranger, Yn. Not fuck fucking Jason!

Carefully removing the duvet off of you, you slipped out of bed and fished for your clothes around his bedroom. Your shirt was tangled on his hoodie you had worn last night, and your panties were thrown on the other side of it. Your bra rested on the bedside table on Jason’s side of the bed, while your jeans were perfectly folded on top of a chair.

You tried to be quiet, to put your clothes back on without making any noise. But your own constant shits and fucks didn’t help your case, and as you buttoned your jeans you heard shuffling on the bed. Jason rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what was going on. “Yn? What are you…”

“THIS IS FUCKED UP!” you screamed, his eyes jolting open at your reaction. “We shouldn’t have done this, Jason.”

“Woah, I didn’t do it alone.” he replied, feeling annoyed at the tone you’d been treating this interaction with.

“We shouldn’t. We…” you wanted to cry, pissed off you’d let yourself sleep with him of all people. Taking your shoes, you rushed out of the room, wanting all of this to be just a silly little memory of a silly little moment when you had lost control.

Opening the door to the living room, you stepped on something that bit your leg in return, a loud hiss forcing your eyes to the black kitten clutched to your leg. Shaking the cat off of you, you proceeded with your run of shame.

“Yn!” Jason screamed after you, but your feet never ceased, and you ran down the stairs. Eyes only jumping up to find him as he stood by the door. The towel you’d cleaned his cheeks with hardly managing to hide his groin. The last sight you got of him haunting you for the days that followed. His sad eyes, frown and pressed closed lips a memory from his heartbreak.

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