#i said i sucked and it was bad but i didn't SUCK. it was just kind of what you would expect from someone teaching for the very first time.

[myjklei]

"You had a bad day, and your boyfriend did his best to cheer you up."

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre: Established relationship

Warnings: Cigarettes, she burns him with the cig once, vaginal fingering, hair pulling(m!receiving), nipple sucking(f!receiving), riding, choking and face slapping(m!receiving), unprotected sex but they are clean and in birth control!!! He cums inside her. Cuddlesss :(

Wordcount: 2,7k

a/n: That's one of my favorite lives of him, and he cheered me up that day when i was feeling terrible, so why not?

You close the door of your apartment, take off your shoes and coat and leave them lying around, then go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your boyfriend is sitting on the sofa with his cell phone in his hand, following you with his eyes.

"Hey my love, you arrived late, I was already going to call you. How was your day?"

You sip your water and set the glass down on the counter, letting out a tired sigh. He turns off his cell phone, puts it on the coffee table, and then walks over to you.

"Want to talk about it?" he asks, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Nothing much happened... just a couple of coworkers who made the atmosphere in the company bad and delayed everyone's work, that's why I arrived much later than normal, also I didn't wake up in the best of moods this morning."

He gives you a worried look, and you give him a small smile.

"I'm fine, my dear, really. I'm just really tired, and my whole body aches. But I'm going to take a long cold shower and come back to you brand new."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my love, I am"

"Then go take your bath, relax, I'll wait for you"

He's incredibly beautiful in your eyes right now. He's wearing a basic black shirt with sweatpants and wearing his prescription glasses, smelling like a freshly-taken bath. You gave him another smile and a kiss, then headed to the bathroom. You spend a significant amount of time in there, as you said you were going to take a long shower, you really needed it.

You do your skincare, put on a pair of boxer panties and a shirt, which happens to be Jungkook's, and when you get to the living room, you're confronted with a scene that warmed your heart. He turned off all the main lights, leaving only the lamp next to the sofa on, prepared some snacks and beer, and there's music playing on the TV. All this as a plan to take your mind off anything that wasn't him. And that worked perfectly.

"Oh hey darling, feeling better?" He looks at you opening a beer.

"Yes, thank you... what's all this?"

"You were tired, so I thought i could cheer you up. Here are the snacks you like, I've turned on the TV and... Is the lighting okay for you?" He stares at you in a child standing position, and you let out a hearty laugh.

"It's perfect, my love."

"Come over here," now sitting on the sofa, he taps the empty spot on the sofa next to him, "sit here with me."

You go over and pick up the other open beer on the coffee table and sit down next to him. "You didn't need to prepare all that stuff for me Ggukie"

"Of course I did, you've had a bad day, I can't stand seeing you like this. If I could I'd have all your bad days for you."

"You're so sweet"

He smiles and looks down, sniffing the mouth of the bottle. "Is the playlist good? Or do you want me to change it?"

The playlist that's playing on the TV was created by the two of you, with the name Nights together ♡ and it was made especially for moments like this, or for when the two of you couldn't sleep and ended up staying up all night chatting and making out until you got tired.

"No you don't have to, it's good"

"Hmmm... but what about your coworkers?"

"Oh, they're husband and wife, at least they used to be. The wife caught her husband with someone else, someone else who works with them, the other woman almost had her hair pulled out"

"A couple who work together in the same job? And the guy still does this, basically to his wife's face?"

You nod, taking a sip of your beer.

"The atmosphere there got awful, the wife started crying and everyone took her in, I just hid in my computer and carried on working, I am less late than the rest of the people, but still, I was supposed to finish everything today."

“You were smart” he puts his mouth on the bottle.

“I still came off as the heartless one, and I'm not even close to her, even I've been a cuckold and I didn't suffer like that” Jungkook laughs and holds back from spitting out the sip of beer he was about to swallow. “You can laugh. She was yelling... Why did he do that to me? I got him this job! How ungrateful!” You imitate the wife. “And everyone was smooching her, comforting her, I can't stand it. She treated him so badly every day, he couldn't do anything wrong and she'd yell at him, that he was worthless, that she didn't know what she was thinking when she married him.” You eat some of the snacks.

“Maybe that's why he cheated on her”

“That's what I thought, but as I said, I'm not close to her, he could be a scumbag at home.”

“I'd never cheat on you, you know?” You giggle shyly and look down at the bottle in your hand, ”I mean it.”

You look up again and find him staring at you with his eyes shining.

“I missed you today”

“Just today?”

“Every day” his smile appears.

“Do you want to watch a movie while we cuddle?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing”

“Do I choose or do you choose?”

And there you are, late at night, watching your second movie. You're lying on his bare chest, and he's stroking your hair, you're paying more attention to the sound of his heart beating than to the movie, which is pretty boring by the way, but you don't care as long as Jungkook is with you. The door to the balcony is half open, and the chill air from outside comes in softly and spreads through the room with the smoke coming from the ashtray on the coffee table. Jungkook takes the cigarette from his fingers to his mouth, and you look closely at his arm, the veins popping out, pale skin, waiting to be marked. He blows out the smoke.

“This movie is so predictable”

“Huh?”

“Everyone knows that when he walks in there the door will close behind him” he offers you the cigarette, and you accept it looking at the screen, ”I told you, they don't make good horror movies anymore, they're all copies of each other”

You blow the smoke out of your mouth and sniff it back in through your nose, looking at him while he still insists on watching the movie. His glasses disappeared along with his shirt when the first movie ended, his hair is slicked back, he's lightly biting the piercing in the corner of his mouth and you have a perfect view of his neck. You snap out of your trance when you feel the cigarette starting to burn your fingers, and you reach out to put it out in the ashtray, but now all you can think about is the hand he has placed on your waist to prevent you from falling off the sofa.

“The idiot still tries to talk to the entity. These characters are so easy to kill”

You kiss his sternum trying to get his attention, “what a bad movie, I don't think I know how to choose movies anymore”.

“You say it's bad, but you can't take your eyes off the screen”

He looks at you, “I'm sorry, baby, I wanted to see how far the bullshit would go”

“Why don't we do something more interesting?” he puts his arm behind his head, using it as a support to see you better.

“Something on your mind?”

You stretch again, but this time, to get a new cigarette straight from the box, you also pick up the heater and sit on the lap of the dark-haired man below you. You light the cigarette, take a drag, and blow it in his face, who closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, you turn the tip of the cigarette in his direction, and he gets the message, leaning on his arms to sit on the sofa and get face to face with you.

You put the cigarette in his mouth, and he puts his hands on your waist, helping you to get comfortable on his lap. He looks away as the smoke comes out of his mouth. The cigarette goes back in your mouth, and Jungkook is already looking at you with big eyes again.

“Blow in my face again... please”

You do what he asks, and you feel him shudder and squeeze your waist, “I don't even think about the movie anymore”.

A smirk comes over your face, and you run your hand through his hair, “You've been so nice today, organizing everything to spend time with me, helping me relax... I want to thank you for that”

He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin between your breasts.

“My bunny... I've been keeping an eye on you since I got home"

“You can take your frustration out on me whenever you want”

“Would you do that for me?”

“Anything for you”

“Even if it means I'm going to be mean?” You wrap your fingers in his hair and pull it back slowly.

“Yes... I can be your personal punching bag if you please”

“Are you sure?” You say as you stub out your cigarette on his arm, staring into his eyes.

“Yes I am” he keeps his gaze glued to yours, tightening his arms around you. You drop the cigarette on the floor and attack his mouth.

He moves his hands up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and he pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same action.

“Lean your back against the sofa, it'll be better” you stand up, leaving his lap missing you, and he does what you said, being able to get a better view of you taking off your panties.

“Close your mouth, or you'll drool,” you say, smiling and getting back on top of him, ”I'll leave the shirt for you since it's yours.”

He laughs, you raise your arms, and he removes his shirt from your body, which he does with pleasure, then kisses his way down your neck.

“I've wanted to do that for a while”

“Then why didn't you do it before? You preferred to waste your time with that awful movie”

“I'm sorry, punish me for that” he says into your ear

You laugh, “you naughty boy”

He brings one of his hands down to your pussy, and runs his middle and ring fingers over it, “you're so wet”

“I've been wet since you took your shirt off, like an hour ago”

“Can I put them in?”

“Have at it, before I do it myself”

He puts his fingers inside you, looking at you as you close your eyes and arch your back. “You're so beautiful” you squeeze his shoulders, leaving your fingernails almost bruising him.

“Curl them” you ignore his compliment and give the order, he moves his fingers with ease, offering his thumb on your clit as a treat.

He puts his mouth on one of your breasts and licks his way to the nipple without taking his eyes off you. You pull his hair and call his name as he sucks your nipple and curls his fingers again. His other hand is on your waist, squeezing lightly. “I can't take my eyes off you, my sweetheart"

You growl and throw your head back, not giving a damn about the pain you're causing him by scratching his back like a wild animal, because that's how he makes you feel and that's how he asked to be treated.

He licks you from your nipple to your neck and nibbles on your earlobe, causing you to shiver.

“Jungkook stop.”

He pulls his fingers out of you, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I just don't want to cum on your fingers, I want to cum on your cock” he sighs shakily, ”pull down your pants”

He lowers his sweatpants along with his underpants as much as this position allows him, and you put one of your hands on each of his shoulders, fitting your entrance to his tip.

You both moan in unison, feeling your bodies fit together perfectly, and you lower your hands from his shoulders to his chest. You move at a faster pace, and he grabs your ass, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. He lets out a whimper that was supposed to be your name.

“Look at me,” you order, squeezing his neck.

Your bouncing gets harder, his hands roam desperately over your body in a clumsy way, tears start to form in his eyes, and he coughs, obediently waiting for you to release his neck.

“Hit me”

“What?”

“Hit me, my love, please”

You stop pressing your hand to his neck without taking it away. He takes a deep breath, and you slam your hand on his cheek, marking your territory.

“You're so beautiful,” you slap him again. “I love you,” another slap. “My goddess,” and another slap. “I'd never cheat on you. You can treat me like shit every day, but I'll still love you and worship you, I'll do anything for you. You're my muse. I need you."

Your head is spinning, the cold wind coming from the balcony is chilling you, his mouth is seeking yours, and you connect them by wrapping your arms around his neck. You would be trapped for hours, days, even years in this moment, in what he, only he, causes you. In the way he, only he, loves you.

“Fuck, baby, I'm close”

“Let go, my love, I'll be here to hold you”

His words were like a trigger for your high to come. You scream his name and tremble around him. He kisses your neck in a sloppy way. Now he's moving his own waist, hunting his own orgasm.

“Baby, I'm sensitive, baby”

“I'm almost there, baby. Just hold on a little longer, please. I know I asked you to be mean, but don't do this to me.” You laugh and kiss him, moving your waist again.

He squeezes your waist and whines into your mouth.

“Love?” he breaks the kiss and looks deep into your eyes.

“It's okay, go on, I want you to,” you stroke the hair on the back of his neck.

And he allows himself to, sinking his head into the crook of your neck, hugging you as if someone wants to steal you away from him. The two of you hug in silence, and you can hear his breathing and his heart beating again, the TV already showing the typical Are you still watching? line.

He looks at you, with his hair messed up, his mouth red and wet from kissing, and droopy eyes.

"I love you so much. If you left me, it would break me, I don't know how I could live without you by my side. You're my life."

"I'll never leave you."

"I know, I know." You caress his face, and he closes his eyes, seeking your touch like a magnet. You lean his head against you and hug him like a child in need of comfort.

"I love you so much, my bunny"

"I love you... I love you..."

"Thank you."

He looks at you again, "Thank you for today. You were very sweet for doing all this"

"Baby, you deserve so much more than this. This was a little treat. You deserve the world, and I feel guilty for not being able to give it to you"

You kiss him passionately and lean your forehead against his, "You're already my world, my love." He smiles with his eyes closed, and your breaths synchronize.

"Baby, I love that we're cuddling like this, but I really need to get cleaned up"

"I know, me too, take a shower with me, and then we'll watch another movie, or play a game, before bed"

"I'd love to."

"But if it's a movie, it has to be a good one," you smile.

"Then you choose this time."

He'll always make you happy, you don't need anything else, he'll always be your dopamine.

[kamospeach]

fuck it guess we both ain't shit .ᐟ

plot: bodyguard!toji just can't help but show his charge what she's missing

content warning: cheating on both ends, age gap(21 & 32), second hand embarrassment, pwp, fingering, cunnilingus, mating press, doggystyle, oral f! & m!recieving, cum eating, p in v sex, quickie

peachy's yap: wc! 2.6k. cringed writing this :P without cringe how else would i get him to blow her back out? i don't believe in cheating, pls remember everything is FICTIONAL before y'all jump me.

“i do not need a bodyguard!” you yell at your father who rubs his temples getting fed up with your antics. you’ve been against the bodyguard idea and have had the bodyguard for two weeks already. speaking of said bodyguard he stood there shoulders slumped listening to you argue this. you did this every day‘ it’s getting old…’ toji thought to himself.

toji watched your every move as you paced back and forth in your father's office. your short pink pleated shirt that left little or maybe even nothing to the imagination. it showed the bottom of your ass and the tattoo of the 'Brat' logo under your left ass cheek. your extremely tight crop top that showed an unnecessary amount of cleavage. your hair past your hips almost mid-thigh.

to toji you looked fuckin' hot but that was because he was a womanizer. any woman dressed in a small amount of clothing was his type.

he knew his job was to protect but he had an inkling his father wasn't really the best at hiring people. toji came to the interview dressed in ragged clothing a black shirt with a half circle cut out the left side. his sweatpants had small stains of blood that your father somehow didn't see. if anyone else had seen toji they would have immediately raised red flags faster than you can blink.

but your puny, oblivious, money-hungry, self-centered, (toji's words), and questionably caring father didn't notice. hired toji the same day and bought him a suit until his custom-tailored ones could be ordered. took him to your penthouse gave him the code to your door and dropped him off downstairs. he huffed that day realizing 'great father' would never be one of your dad's many attributes. yet who was he to judge?

“IT’S TOO FUCKIN LATE Y/N HE’S IN A TWO-YEAR CONTRACT.” your father yelled at you, you frowned turning around. you walked away snapping your fingers twice signaling toji to follow you. toji didn’t like you either the feeling was insanely mutual.

“take me to my boyfriend’s house,” you instructed toji who had no choice but to obey you. he started the car taking you to your boyfriend’s house. knowing the way there since you went there every day. and as always toji was required to follow you in the house.

it was a little different this time, you barked orders at your boyfriend. yelling at him telling him ‘get toji a drink’ and your boyfriend nods running off. he handed toji a bottle of water and you snap your fingers at your boyfriend. giving him a sharp glare ordering ‘take me upstairs’. to which he obliged picking you up.

toji sat downstairs on his phone telling his wife he’d probably be home late. toji wish he could quit after he met you and got to know you personally. and this? was the worst part of the day, when you’d go to your boyfriend’s house. while your boyfriend fucked you and you let out fake moans and your boyfriend yelled out in pleasure.

he honestly felt bad for you, not only were you an annoying spoiled brat. but you couldn’t get fucked properly by your shitty ass suck-up boyfriend. you were a naturally dominant woman and you wouldn’t get any pleasure if you weren't with a man who was as dominant as you.

you walked down the stairs rolling your eyes as your boyfriend begged you to stay. you being your bratty self waved him off and snapped for toji to follow you. he was getting fed up with the demands and was sure he was gonna tell you off soon.

he drove you to your house parking the company's car and getting out. he opened the door for you allowing you to leave. as always toji followed you to the door of your penthouse making sure you got in safely.

"leave me!" you yelled at toji and that was his last straw.

"i'm getting real tired of your shit. your a fucking spoiled brat, if this is gonna work you need to learn real manners. you dont yell at me and snap your fingers just 'cause your daddy's money is going into my pocket," he yelled at you. you were taken aback. no way was he yelling at you. you owned him. "

"just like you said my dad is paying you. which means if i say you're fired you'll be fired," you said and he raised a brow at your dumb assumption.

"your name is nowhere on the contract... you hold no power over me. we're both equals you work for your dad and so do i. we're practically co-workers darlin' nothing more nothing less." he said with a smug smirk. your nostrils were flaring in anger and your fist clenched by your side. your brain scrambling for a comeback to say to this ignorant man.

"well yea... i'll get my boyfriend to beat you up!" you yell voice shaky and toji chuckles darkly. he walked towards you, you were shivering under his intense glare.

"your weak ass boyfriend can't even make you cum and you think he'll beat me up?" he laughed and your face dropped.

"h...how did you know i wasn't finishing?" you ask swallowing a big lump in your throat. it was getting intense and toji had backed you into a corner. figuratively and literally. your back was pressed against the island and his hands trapped you.

"i've sat downstairs listening to your fake moans and his weak thrusts for 2 weeks now." toji smirked as you looked away from you. "plus i know what it sounds like when a woman's actually cumming."

the silence was loud and your breathing was erratic. toji looked back at your microwave checking the time. his brain was fighting his heart to go along with what he was thinking he'd do. while toji was deciding what he wanted to do, you knew what you wanted. when toji turned his face back to you you smashed your lips on his.

you pulled back remembering not only was he 11 years older than you, he was a married man. you both looked at each other in shock you held your breath hoping he wouldn't snitch to your father. but before you knew it toji's lips were back on yours, he picked you up placing you on the counter. his fingers ran across your thighs as your hands rubbed up and down his toned back.

it was wrong you knew it but did you care? hell no. his wife was a bitch anyway, you knew she was just a backup for his first dead wife. even if you did hear it unethically from snooping in on your father's childlike gossip. he didn't really like his wife so this technically isn't wrong. just as you finally let go of all thoughts it was toji's turn to pull away.

"this is wrong... i'm married, you have a boyfriend-" you cut him off not wanting to hear the excuses.

"you don't like your wife and my boyfriend can't make me cum. i think we have good reason for what we're doing this," you say and toji's eyebrows furrowed.

"those aren't good reasons..." he mumbled ignoring his thoughts and grabbed your chin roughly pulling you to him. he kissed you roughly your teeth clashing. the roughness of his fingernails digging in your skin knowing when he removed his hand there would be prominent crescent indents on your jaw.

he was so rough and it wasn't how you were used to. usually, you initiated everything with your boyfriends. it seemed as if toji was in a rush to get it over with and he needed you as soon as possible. he played with your thong under your tiny skirt.

his fingers slipped under the band of your thong pulling on it and letting it snap against your skin. "get down and go to your room." he tells you backing away and you furrow your brows.

"you can't carry me up there?" and he laughs walking away from you and heading to your room. this was shocking for you it felt like you went from one extreme to the next. first, you were with a submissive nice man and here you are with a dominant asshole. you swallowed your spit as you walked into your room seeing toji standing there naked.

you knew toji would be big but not that big. he was bigger than any guy you've ever slept with. you walked over to toji while stripping out of your clothes. you were down to your bra and skirt when toji grabbed your waist pulling you closer. he unclasped your bra letting it fall to the floor and tossed you on the bed.

you propped yourself on your arms and toji leaned over you pressing his lips on yours. your hands were anxiously touching him everywhere nervously. you felt like a virgin not sure where to put your hands or what to do. without any warning, toji pulled down your skirt and thong all in one pull. he kissed down your neck and pulled away glancing at his watch.

"we got 20 minutes," he said going back to kissing your neck sucking and nipping at the spot that made you moan.

"un...until what?" you asked and he laughed.

"until i have to leave. my wife's expecting me," he mumbled and you frowned.

"don't mention her while you're with me from now on," you tell him and he smirks.

"as you wish doll," he agreed not wanting to talk about his wife anyway. although it was wrong you both felt so right being here with each other. for you, toji was everything you needed rough and in control. for toji... well, you just gave it up and he wasn't one to turn down pussy he didn't have to pay for.

he kissed down your chest teasing you purposely missing your nipples. until you whined out and told him to stop teasing. he played with your clit rubbing and collecting your juices on his finger. pulling away from your nipples placing two fingers in your mouth. you grabbed his wrist as you tasted yourself on his digits.

after your spit was running down his fingers he removed it from your mouth. he pushed them in your entrance feeling how tight your needy cunt is. he scissored his fingers attempting to stretch you out. toji didn't talk much and initially, he wasn't in the mood for intimate foreplay. but now he did want to taste you since you were so wet.

he continued kissing down your body and one last time on the mound of your privates. he wasted no time sucking on your clit while vigorously fingering you.

"toji wait." you moaned out the feeling was becoming too much for you. you had never been eaten out before and this was new for you. the stimulation of your clit and his fingers massaging your rough g-spot had you gasping for air. your hands reached for his black hair pulling harshly. he groaned against you making you squeal in pleasure.

his tongue moved expertly against your clit taking his fingers out of you. you whined missing his fingers inside you and he leaned over you. he looked down at you with a bored expression but your clouded mind read it as admiration.

"ya ready?" he asked and you melted at the concern in his voice that you were definitely making up. you nodded lost in thought as toji wasted no time pushing into your entrance. your body arched at the feeling of him stretching you out.

he didn't wait for you to adjust to his size and started stroking immediately. you were moaning at the feeling already pushing on his stomach.

"take some out." you moaned head thrown back and toji just laughed at your pleas.

"it's only halfway in doll," he whispered in your ear pushing himself all the way in now. you tried to run from him but he gripped your waist holding you in place. you couldn't believe that it was only part way initially. yet you could definitely tell the difference now. his cockhead was kissing your cervix as he roughly pounded into you. you reached up to grab his face pulling it down to you and kissing him messily.

his hips didn't slow or stutter as he pounded into you mercilessly. he was fucking like he needed to leave right away, you could've sworn you both had another 15 minutes. he grabbed your legs pushing them against your chest putting you in a mating press.

"did he fuck you like this?" he grunted looking down at your tight cunt that sucked him in like a vice. you were squelching and your cream was painting his dick white. the view pushing toji closer and closer to his release.

"mm mm..." you hummed but it came out more of a moan. toji wasn't satisfied with this answer. he wanted to hear you say that he was the best you ever had.

"use your words ma. did he fuck you like this?" he repeated himself thrusting into you with a particularly pointed thrust as you were about to talk.

"nooo!" you squeaked and he pulled out smiling at the mess of cream on your folds. he flipped you over perfecting your arch and sliding into you again.

"fuck you're so tight," he groaned pushing himself into you. he gripped both of your ass cheeks roughly nails digging into the fatty flesh. once he calmed himself so he wouldn't nut too early he begin to fuck you again. this time making it a point to push his tip into your g-spot.

"toji m'close," you mumbled as your face was pressed into the pillow. before you knew it you felt pressure on the side of your face. your eyes opened seeing toes in your face.

you were in utter shock toji had his foot on your head thrusting into you relentlessly. the new found angle only pushing you closer and closer to release. you reached under yourself playing with your clit. you clenched around his dick making his thrust slow down at the grip.

"relax doll m'right behind you, just hold it for me," he grumbled still thrusting into you letting out small moans and guttural groans. he pulled out jerking himself off flipping you over and rubbing your clit quickly.

"fuck toji!" you yelled as your body convulsed and jerked as your squirt soaked him and the bed. he slapped your clit causing your body to lightly flinch from the feeling on your clit.

he crawled over you hover over your chest stroking his cock over your face. his dick twitched in his hand and his hips bucked into his hand. you leaned up wrapping your lips around his tip and swirling your tongue until you felt him release his hot cum down your throat.

"fuck yea ma that's it." he hummed as you took him down your throat and pulled off him with a pop. you swallowed his cum open your mouth sticking out your tongue.

"ah." you showed toji that you swallowed it all and he smirked softly smacking your cheek.

"good girl." he smiled looking at the watch on his wrist. "5 minutes to spare," he hummed to himself getting off of you. he didn't bother cleaning you up, he simply slipped on his boxers, then his suit.

"uh," you say not really sure what to say to be honest. he looked up at you where he sat on the end of your bed putting on his shoes.

"see you tomorrow," he said grabbing his phone and keys from your nightstand. without waiting to hear it back from you he jogged down your steps and to your front door. he left out locking the door with the code. you sat on your bed looking down at your hands with a smile.

"so that means we're together? right?" you thought to yourself out loud.

sure girl... sure.

[eggrollforyou]

Need This

Law x F!Reader

CW: Established relationship, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), slight angst- feelings of overwhelm, fingering, oral (M!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, sub Law, needy Law, slight praise kink, religious themes if you squint

A/N: thanks everyone for participating in my poll! Sub Law smashed the competition! This was a fun one to indulge in. I hope you enjoy it. I definitely had to take breaks 🥵 I spent more time making the banner than I did proofreading. I'll come back later and make edits as I see them 🙈

“DAMN IT, SHACHI! I said NOT to do that. Bathroom duty, the next 4 rotations,” Law shouted in frustration. “W-what?! But Captain! Four rotations?! I just thought you might like to try something different with your rice balls this week,” Shachi exclaims as he dejectedly throws his hands down by his side. Law sucked his teeth in frustration, “And I said no, the last time you tried. Clear it with me before you waste the fucking ingredients. Four rotations,” as he stomps out of the galley.

You stared at Shachi in disbelief at Law’s outburst. Shachi returns your widened gaze as he shrugs in disbelief, “I don't know what the fuck has been going on with him. He's been so goddamn touchy the last few days. Ugh…fucking bathroom duty?!” He cries out as he swipes his hand down his face. “Fuck…,” he mumbles to himself as he walks out. You shift a glance over to Penguin who was sitting quietly, clearly trying not to invoke the wrath of Law. 

“How long has he been like this? I've only been gone for a couple weeks running that mission for him,” you ask quietly. “It's been like this the last week, almost. It's been UNBEARABLE, Y/N,” he sighs. “We've all been walking on eggshells. Even Bepo has been doing his best to stay in line. You've got to figure out what's going on with him and save us from this torture. Everyone is afraid to make him mad and end up with some fucked up duty as punishment.” He gets up and puts his dishes away for the poor soul who last pissed off Law- to clean it with a toothbrush. 

What the hell is going on? Nothing happened while I was out, I think. Even still, this really isn't like Law, you think to yourself. Sure punishments weren't out of the ordinary. Especially considering the antics the crew got up to, but something was up. Law was clearly extra touchy about everything. He usually wouldn't throw a fit over a change in his rice ball recipe. You sigh to yourself, wondering how you're going to handle this, lest you be subjected to his next punishment.

Law stormed back to his office quickly and slammed the door behind him in a huff. “What the FUCK was Shachi thinking? He knows what I like. Why would he randomly fucking change it?!” he grumbles to himself, still fuming. The three weeks have been an absolute shit show, especially the last week. Nothing has gone right. He feels absolutely out of control. Something he really doesn't like.

Sure with the Straw Hats, he's come to expect it. But on his own ship? He always had control. But it seemed there was something in the drinking water, because even his crew were doing everything they could to rip apart his every last nerve. He sighed in utter defeat and plopped down into his desk chair, covering his eyes with his hand on his brow.

It started with his last mission plan. He was working with Robin to gather info on a poneglyph. They went to some dusty ass island in the middle of nowhere based on some intel they gathered the week prior, only to learn that Shachi and Penguin got the information wrong. He gave them the leeway to do it on their own, because they groveled for the opportunity, and they fucked it up! Little did he know, they were simply given bad information, but that didn't change the fact that they were in the wrong fucking place at the wrong fucking time, so they couldn't ambush who they needed information. After that, it seemed everything was spiraling out of his control and he couldn't handle it any longer. 

He sighed again, showing his weary heart. Rubbing his temples, “Fuck…I overreacted again didn't I?” he questioned himself. He knew he was touchier than normal. He was just tired of it all. Tired of the responsibility of his crew, tired of always having to make the decisions because it seemed no one else could do it on their own, tired of being the only one with any sense to maintain charge. It was exhausting. Then he felt the pang of guilt in his chest. Shachi only changed the rice ball recipe by one ingredient, one that he liked, and he acted like an ass. He stood up, prepared to apologize. He opened the door to go to Shachi’s station and was met with you, wide eyed in surprise and your hand up, your knuckles about to knock on the door, right as he swung it open.

“Y/N, you're back!” He pulls you into a hug, one you noted was tighter than his usual, but you're quick to return it. You have been gone for two weeks to try to gather better intel on a sleazebag who supposedly had the correct information to the poneglyph Law and Robin were trying to find. Law sighed, taking in a big breath, smelling your hair- he missed it. “I missed you,” he whispers and you feel the tension in his body slowly soften. “When did you get back?” You walked him backwards into the office and closed the door behind you. “Just an hour ago. I witnessed your blow up on Shachi. Is everything okay? This stuff usually doesn't make you so upset,” you probe, as you push some of his hair out of his face, resting your hands to hold both sides of his face. 

Law sighs, “I know. I-I feel terrible. I shouldn't have blown up like that. I just….I'm so tired Y/N…nothing has gone to plan the last three weeks. I'm just….tired of it all.” You gaze back, trying to hide your surprise. Law isn't usually so forthcoming with how he's feeling. Usually he's …emotionally constipated. It's like pulling teeth to get him to talk to you, but now? You can see he's held in his stress for too long. His soul and heart are raw from the expectations he placed upon himself. Your heart twists at the sight. “Oh, Law, baby. Don't worry about Shachi. He'll be fine. I'll take care of it, ok? You don't have to do this alone.” 

His body shakes as he finds comfort in your presence, in your love. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart and his thoughts- racing a mile a minute. “I’m just so tired of the responsibility of everything. Being Captain, making sure everyone is safe. Making all the decisions, all the plans…all the time,” he pauses. You sense his hesitation to continue and don’t allow him to break from your hold. Running your hand in his hair, your other running pressured strokes on his back. Hoping it prompts him to continue. He senses your effort to ground him, “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it…But…it’s just been so much for so long…I wish I could just give up all control, even if only for a day.” Getting the words out finally makes him feel like he has space to breathe.

You pull him to your lips in a reassuring kiss, embracing him to try to take some of his stress. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, returning your embrace, pulling you in tight and you feel his body begin to relax. “Are you ok?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, “You can talk to me,” you console. He sighs, his skin tingling as your fingertips lightly scratch his scalp. “I…,” he hesitates. Does he really want to burden you with this? The thought of opening up has him feeling vulnerable, but he feels so tightly wound.

Like a spool of wire pulled so taught that it’ll burst at any moment. He’s afraid of what the shrapnel could do. To you, to him, to his crew. Everything he’s worked so hard for. And suddenly, his thoughts flash to Corazon. How he put everything on the line to help him. A dying child, with little hope, ready to throw everything away. How he gave up everything, so that he could be the man he’s become. To live….to thrive.

You hold his face between your palms, leaning back to look into his tired eyes. You see the exhaustion on his face; the weariness. How it’s taken its toll since you’ve been gone. “Thank you,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “for telling me,” you press another on his cheek, “I will always be here to help you, with whatever you need,” and another kiss to the corner of his mouth. You slowly walk him backwards, he stops when he feels the edge of the couch hit the back of his legs. Forcing him to sit, you straddle his lap, determined to smother him in your love and affection. Going on missions for him wasn’t out of the ordinary. After all, he had big plans. But you didn’t realize how much you missed him while you were gone for this one, especially after hearing about what weight he keeps himself under when you’re not there. 

He buries his face into your chest, not realizing how much you ground him through everything until now. He smells you again, taking long deep breaths, and suddenly his heart is pounding. Though this time not from stress, from your closeness. He realizes how wrapped in you he truly is at the moment. He pulls back to look at you, your eyes sparkling as you gaze back at him, and he presses a kiss to your collarbone. “Thank you. For….everything.” You smile warmly in return, trying to hide your surprise at this different side of him that you’ve never seen before. “You would do the same for me, Law. I will always be here for you. But next time…,” he looks at you, clearly on the upside of this moment, “Next time, come to me before it gets to this, okay?” His lips tug up into a shy smile and he nods, “I don’t want to see you hurting like this. All of us are here for you. We love you….I love you.” 

You lean down to give him another kiss. One turns into two and they continue to multiply. You feel the flutters of desire begin to grow as your bodies heat up and react to one another. His grip on you is tight as he keeps your chest pressed against his. As you slot your lips against his again, your tongues meet in a kiss that quickly gets heated. You begin to grind your hips into him, legs still straddling him, and he whines into your mouth. It sounds like music to your ears. Law NEVER whines. He’s always been one to take charge, but this time feels different. 

“Please, Y/N,” his voice wavers. This time, you think, you won’t let him. He feels your smirk on his lips, “You’ve been so good for me, Law. I think I should show you just how much I appreciate it,” as you grind your clothed cunt on his growing erection with more force. His eyes flutter shut and he whimpers. It fuels the fire you are stoking. “Please…I n-need you. I need this.” You lean back slightly to look at his rugged face. This time, there’s no scowl; it’s soft, relaxed, and needy. “Don’t worry Law, I’ve got you,” you huff, your voice low and full of desire. “Just relax for me, ok baby?” With his eyes closed, he nods, as you lean back to remove your shirt and bra, quickly, not stopping your relentless grinding on his lap.

His hands find purchase on your hips, clutching tightly, his fingertips turning white. You’re gasping into each other’s mouths as if you’re starving for one another. You unbutton his shirt and push it off of him, dragging your nails on every part of his exposed flesh that you touch as you bring them back up his body. Relishing in the goosebumps you leave in your wake. He shivers at the contact. “Does that feel good, baby?” He moans. “Mmmmm, I love when you make that sound for me,” you say as you press open mouthed kisses along the column of his neck and across the top of his shoulder.

You reach down to unbuckle his belt, you rise from his lap letting him shuffle his pants and boxers down as you pull your own shorts and panties, letting them pool at your feet. His eyes traveling from your ankles, looking at every part of you all the way up to your face as he pants in near desperation for your touch. You lean over him, caging him beneath you and he pulls you in, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. You throw your head back in pleasure as his tongue swipes and swirls around your nipple, his cheeks hollowing as he takes more of your breast into his mouth. Your arms wrap around his head, nails scraping into his scalp as you grip his hair. His hands grab your ass as he switches his attention to your other breast, gasping as he scrapes his teeth on your other nipple. 

You reach down, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, swiping your thumb across the tip, swirling the pre-cum that’s gathered there. He whimpers at your touch as you begin slowly teasing him, grazing your fingertips in teasing, featherlight touches, along the bottom of his length, “Is this what you want, baby?” 

“Y-ahh-yes, p-please, touch me Y/N,” he begs, his eyes glazed over, cheeks dusted in pink. He moans softly as you oblige in his request, grabbing length at the base and slowly twisting your fist up his length. You ghost your lips over his ear, your breath light and teasing. His breath hitches and his body stiffens as he flexes his every muscle. “You’re SO responsive for me, Law,” you whisper devilishly, intentionally keeping your lips a hair’s breadth away from the shell of his ear. His breaths come heavier and you take his wrist, bringing his hand to your core, “Feel what you do to me, Law.” You both moan as he takes two of his fingers and rubs them where you crave him most. His fingers swiping back and forth, collecting your slick- practically dripping- and swirling it around your clit. 

He inserts one finger and presses the spot that makes you go insane. He watches you in reverence as he continues to slowly work his finger in and out of you. You bite your lip when he inserts the second finger. Your hand on his cock falters as he crooks his fingers, pressing his thumb on your clit with steady pressure. His pupils dilated, sweat collecting on his brow from being so worked up. “Mmmf, f-fuck, yes Law. Right there. You make me feel sooooo good,” you whimper trying not to collapse on him. His fingers continue pumping in and out of you. The room filled with sounds most unholy, the air thick with desire as you pant into each other's mouths.

You adjust while Law continues to scissor you open with his fingers, leaning down, you kiss and kitten-lick his leaking tip. He pauses for a moment, hand clenched while other hand stops fingering you. You smirk for a moment, enjoying Law turning into a flushed mess at your touch. “Tell me what you need, Law.” He hisses, eyes opening to see you peeking up at him, his cock throbs in your hand, “I need your mouth…please,” he groans. “Need my mouth where?” you tease. “O-on my cock, please, I need your mouth on my cock,” he pants. You chuckle, “Good boy,” and as you sink your mouth down onto his cock, his arm reaches over your back, grabbing your side, “A-aahhh- shit- your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.”

You glide your lips up and down his shaft, building a steady rhythm, occasionally taking him deeper, touching the back of your throat. You pause to relax your throat to take him further and he hisses, pushing his hips up into your mouth. You moan when his hand presses slightly on the back of your head, forcing a small gag from you, your grip on the base of his cock tightening slightly. His hand in your hair stops pressing and he holds on to it while you take back control. Bringing your lips back to his tip as you swirl your tongue, your hand working what couldn’t fit into your mouth, drool dripping down your wrist. You tease his tip continuously with each pass, making his toes curl, his abs tighten, getting lost in the gasps and moans you pull from the back of his throat. 

Coming up with a lewd pop as you pull his throbbing length from your mouth, you push his shoulders back to keep him leaning back on the couch as you throw your leg over him. Sitting on his lap, his spit soaked cock between you both, you lean up and grind your pussy on him. Leaning forward to capture his lips in yours as you spread your slick on his shaft. You reach down to line him up with your entrance, slowly pushing his fat tip in. You slowly sink down onto his length to the hilt, releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He reaches to grab the side of your face and your neck, pulling you into a ravenous kiss. You begin grinding your hips in a circular motion, eating his wanton moans. “Hold me tight, make me feel every inch of you,” you whisper.

A guttural moan is ripped from his throat as you grind yourself up and down his length as his arms wrap tightly around you. Your forehead is pressed to his as you lock eyes, fire in them. You pick up your pace until your hips and thighs burn, fueled to continue by Law’s unwavering grip on your hips and his moans each time you pull your clenching walls up to his tip and slam down. “Baby-baby-f-fuck,” his eyes are glistening as he watches you take all of him, over and over. You slow down, putting your finger under his chin forcing his gaze up at you, “I want you to look at me, baby. Look at me to see how good you feel. How good you make me feel. Can you do that?” He gulps, “Y-yes,” his strong hands grasping and kneading your hips, ass, and thighs. “Mmm, so good for me, Law, thank you baby.”

“Fu-uuck,” he stutters as he begins thrusting up into you. He’s pulling you so tightly into him, you don’t know where one begins and the other ends, you’re just melting into each other. “Hnng, you feel so good inside me, Law, keep going.” Spurred by your praise, he picks up his pace, the sound of skin meeting skin turning you both on even more. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching as you clench around Law’s cock. Both of you panting, “Fuck, you feel so good…I-I c-can’t stop,” his voice shaky as he loses himself in you.

His thrusts are growing needier as you moan praises, fire in your veins as he brings you closer to your climax. His eyes roll back when your hands reach for his shoulders as he fucks up into you. Your nails leaving crescent marks on them. You look down at him, his fucked out expression, determined to please you. He swears you're an angel, peering down at him, perfect in every way. He groans in euphoria at the sting of your nails, your clenching walls wrapped around him, as he fucks the shape of him into you. 

“F-fuck, Law, I need to cum, can you make me cum, baby?” You pant breathlessly. “Fuuuhhck-hhng-yes baby, let me,” he growls as he snakes his hand down to your clit, messily rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You feel him throb inside you as the touch makes you bite your lip to contain your screams, your cunt clenching hard as he works you to your orgasm.

“Please, baby, please give it to me, I need this,” he groans, maintaining his hungry gaze with yours, and you begin to tumble into the waves of electric pleasure that wash over you. “Fuuuck, don't stop, fuck me just like that,” you command. “Ah-ahhh-aghhhh,” he can no longer contain himself as he feels you flutter on his cock, using him for your pleasure. He stills for a moment as his release spills into you, pressed against your cervix. Sighs and moans of pleasure as he finishes with you. 

You're both spent, sweaty messes when his thrusts finally come to a stop. He pulls your lips to his, capturing your lips in a languid kiss. Your tongues swirl in a tired dance as you both come down from your highs. Panting into each other. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for helping me,” he grumbles, half asleep from the energy expended from his emotions and your body. 

You hum at his words of affection pressing kisses on random places of exposed skin. “You needed stress relief, baby. I'm glad I could oblige. I'm always here for you. Again you don't have to do this all alone.” He brings you into a tight embrace again, as if he's what tethers you to this world. You stand up off of him to gather your clothes, quickly shimmying on your underwear and shorts and grabbing a small towel to clean yourselves off. 

You lay Law down on the couch, running your hand on his arm. “You stay here, rest. I'll take care of things for a bit,” pressing a kiss to his forehead. He leaves a sigh of relief. “What did I do to have you? Please…tell Shachi I'm sorry.” You squeeze his hand in reassurance and quietly leave the office as you hear his breathing even out. 

Only to be surprised by Penguin and Shachi just around the corner. “Ah!” you yelp, looking behind you, hoping you didn't wake Law up. “What the fuck are you two doing here?! Creeps!” They snicker, sharing a knowing glance between themselves. “Soooo,” Shachi chimes, hoping you have good news for him. “How's the Captain feeling?” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you squeeze your eyes shut. This is the shit he deals with….daily. You think to yourself. “Shachi….fucking…four rotations!” His bright eyes dim as his cheeky grin falters, his mouth agape. “W-what?! But-but- you were supposed to help me out!” As you walk away, Penguin is grabbing his stomach trying not to burst out in laughter, “Law took it back, but I'm giving it back because you're a fucking pervert! He sends his apologies!” You call out to him as you wave your hand goodbye. 

Taglist: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Phew! If you made it this far, thank you! I thrive on feedback so I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🫣 Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated.

[carriesthewind]

I'm coming back to this b/c I've been thinking about it all day. In no particular order:

The witch hunt of it all. Yes, it sucks that so much stuff is getting deluged in ai bs. Yes, I don't want to consume or promote or share anything produced with or by so-called ai. But, for a certain small but loud & impactful section of people, instead of focusing on the actual problem (the huge volume of bs and the companies/powerful actors producing and promoting it), or even just pointing out specific examples of the failures or harm, it has become the new Tool of Entertaining Witchhunts. Let's find the Bad Person producing the Bad Content, and attack them.

Part of the alleged proof is snippets of writing that are similar. This is an inherently flawed test. The plagiarism bot produces chunks of text that are very similar, but slightly different, than writing it has consumed. It is very good at this, especially if producing discreet chunks - *especially* if it is something that is something for which their is an existing large amount of texts that are very similar, but slightly different, like, say, an extremely common topey moment in an extremely common tropey story. (Also the "writing pattern" isn't identical. Just. Learn how to read. Sorry, that's mean, but I have little patience.)

Maybe you think these metaphors are bad - that's fine! The author of that post certainly does! Real authors use bad metaphors all the time! One of my current most-read fandom authors writes metaphors that are so bad they loop back around to charming. I love this author's work and wait for it eagerly. In fact, this accusation cuts against the claim that it is ai - the bot works by putting words next to each other that are likely to be next to each other - it doesn't know that its "generating descriptions". If having the works "embers" and "pool" near each other in its training data is statistically unlikely, that's an argument against your thesis, not for it, you nitwit. (Doesn't mean it means that it's "proof" that the writer of the fic didn't use a llm! Just that the author of post didn't prove it!)

Trust in the reporter. "Aren't all these coincidences odd? It proves AI." "Well, isn't it odd that you never show the prompt in your screenshots, just the alleged result of your alleged prompt? It proves you are faking it!" <- I do not believe that last sentence. I would need actual proof to believe it. (I also don't believe whether or not their screenshots are actually real results from a prompt to a chatbot - I think they very likely are! - has any effect on whether or not I believe they have evidenced their conclusion - see above.) But the point I want to make is that everyone reblogging that post is trusting that the poster is being honest that they used a chatbot to produce the results, with no proof. Doesn't that seem strange? Shouldn't that be strange?

Also the repeated unevidenced assertions that a certain writing characteristic is a "tell" for ai - where are they getting this from? Like, maybe that's true - but it's not something I've seen shown before, so maybe provide me something other than "trust me bro"???

Maybe I'm just a bit oversensitive to this now, but how is a writer - or an artist - supposed to unprove an accusation once it has been made? I scrolled down just a bit on the author of that posts feed to see that the original fic writer had been unpersoned, and the reasons are not more convincing proof, but that by questioning the author of the post, you are siding with a bot which has "stolen from real authors." I've said it before and I'll say it again - I have no idea if the fic in question was produced by ai or not. Maybe it was. But what about the next fic to be accused like this, because of shoddy "proof" like this? What avenues to authors have to argue their personhood? Why should they *have* to prove their personhood - should that not be the default assumption? Yes, "real authors" have had their work stolen - and a fuck ton of "real authors" have been harassed out of fandom too. Accusations of being "ai" are just the latest in a long history. I'm being really careful here about not knowing whether or not the original fic author used an LLM, because it doesn't matter to my points, and hey, baseless accusations sometimes turn out to accidentally match some element of reality all the time, but it really grosses me out that I have to leave that space when this is literally baseless accusations.

There's a post going around about a specific alleged AI fanfic. The author of the post lists a lot of reasons why they believe the fic is AI. Not linking to the post and not commenting on its conclusion, but.

But.

People.

These???? Are all ABSOLUTELY VALID analogies/expressions???

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision"

"his grip firm but tender"

"her gown pooling around her like embers"

But the post says that:

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool? the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean

Come on, man. These are perfectly serviceable! Quiet precision and firm but tender are bog standard fictional expressions. Granted, I've never seen the simile of a dress pooling like embers, but I like it! It evokes!

They are absolutely something that an actual living breathing person would write! (In fact they're so serviceable that if the fic is AI they're probably plagiarised) (although firm but tender is SO common I'm not sure it can be plagiarised? It's like 'toeing off his shoes').

Like, yeah, AI sucks. I agree it sucks.

But analogies or expressions that aren't a one to one match for truth (reality? observable fact? whatever, you get what I mean) are not bad?? They don't mean a fic was written with AI?? They're what makes writing GOOD. Makes it interesting.

Sure, 'her nimble fingers moved like bones and tendons covered by skin because they were bones and tendons covered in skin, but her movements were so expertly precise that no one noticed just how super precise they were' might be entertaining. briefly.

But the whole POINT of metaphor and simile is to evoke a reaction. An emotion.

There's a post by silentwalrus that I cannot find (thanks tumblr search), and it's pissing me off, because they perfectly talked about this! About metaphor and how to write original and effective ones (something they're VERY good at). The example was something like 'he did a thing like a scorpion hidden under a bush' and pointing out that if you looked at it too close it didn't make sense, but it evoked a reaction.*

A clever or strange or evocative analogy or expression does not mean it was written by AI.

____________________________

*I may be misremembering the details, and if so I apologise; it was a long time ago, but I'm positive it involved a scorpion.

[genderqueerdykes]

something that ive noticed a lot as a trans man and yet dont see talked about nearly enough is queer hatred of masculinity/obsession with femininity (which also connects to radical feminism and all)

why are there more nonbinary afabs than amabs? because queer people are "encouraged" to lean towards more feminine labels (so afab trans men are pushed towards id'ing as nonbinary, and amab nonbinaries are pushed towards id'ing as trans woman)

why are trans women expected to physically transition more than trans men? because you cant risk looking like an "evil man" of course! so you have to be as feminine as possible! this goes for both trans woman and trans men

why are gay men stereotyped as effeminate, why are masc lesbians looked down upon? it all comes back to hatred of masculinity

(and on a more minor note, ive noticed a rise in trending queer songs all being generally like "everyone wants to be a woman" "a gross MAN will never be enough for women" which is... a little weird to me?)

i myself am a fem trans man, i love being fem, but its weird asf that we've normalized such an intense hatred of masculinity. i feel really bad for my more masculine trans brothers (and my more masculine trans sisters, for that matter!). i genuinely think this is one of the major inner issues of the queer community and if we want to grow stronger and have less infighting we NEED to stop hating masculinity

thank you so much for taking the time to send this, this is very well thought out and exactly what's happening right now. thank you for taking the time to highlight the main issue.

there is a queer obsession with femininity, yes. i see it a lot. femininity is prioritized over everything else to a dangerous degree.

people claim to love transfems and then do this- which as you said, forces them to come out and transition as fast as possible because no one wants ""Scary evil men"" in their community. it's sickening. i've seen so many transfems admit that life sucked for them while they were questioning because they didn't feel welcome in queer spaces at all. some have decided to never identify as a trans woman because of this and it sucks

there are also masculine trans women and trans women who never want to pass or don't try to (or may just never end up being able to pass at all). i feel like people are unnecessarily cruel about transfems and passing, as if that needed to happen within our own walls, too. like people are so fucking terrible to trans women who don't or can't or don't try to pass. why do we force trans women to feel obligated to pass perfectly within our own walls in order to accept them? if transfems aren't super feminine and don't pass very well, they're treated like shit. no, not everyone at the meeting in a polo and slacks is a man. sometimes that's a trans woman who's butch. sometimes that's a trans woman who's passing as a man for safety.

people seriously need to understand how bad this behavior affects transfems & trans women. intersex people as well.

i love being a fem man as well, however, i also love being a gay bear. i am a feminine bear. the thing is, is people don't realize that masculinity can be feminine, too, and vice versa. not all fems are just fem. some are also masc and butch. so many people have gotten suckered into rad feminism that they spread the lie that queerness is feminine and woman based only. masc queers are still queer. we don't need this feminine/woman superiority shit. we don't need one gender or presentation to be "superior". that's not how equality works

[milessunflowers]

reader comforting lance after he gets hate bcuz i stg im about 20 seconds away from decking f1 news reporters >:(

-bear >:( 💚

you and me both bear! you and me both

lance stroll x male!reader

synopsis: the constant hate from fans and the media really gets to lance, no matter how much he tries not to let it show. you can see through him and comfort him, even if he won't admit that he feels bad

author's note:

it was a common occurrence at this point. it was sad but true. he forgets a time when he wasn't constantly scrutinized and hated for simply existing. it was impactful in the worst ways possible. lance couldn't even find the joy in racing anymore. the only thing keeping him afloat anymore was his family and you.

it was hard to keep doing something he once loved so much that now seemed to suck the life out of him. a lot of the time, he wished he had never started karting, never went through the early formula series, and never signed with any team.

you felt bad for him because he used to love his sport. he used to come home from races feeling amazing. now, he came home looking dead on his feet, miserable, and often times, with red, puffy eyes. you did everything you could to cheer him up. you wanted to see the energetic, happy, and encouraged boyfriend back. so that was your goal now. The thought helped keep you going when you got discouraged.

you hadn't been on social media lately, taking time for yourself, lance, and family rather than keeping up with new rumors (because yes, you loved drama, who doesn't?), so of course, you hadn't seen what fans of other drivers or assholes in general were saying about you sweetheart of a boyfriend. you didn't even realize it was getting bad again until he came back home after running some errands.

you could tell he felt down and low just by the way he walked back in. you got up to help him bring some groceries in before ushering him to sit on the couch before you unload everything. he sat with his back hunched and tired eyes. it was a heartbreaking sight.

you sat down next to him and pulled him close. "it's okay, babe," you say softly, holding him close. the words were virtually meaningless when said, but lance always found them somewhat helpful. "i know it's easier said than done, i know, but you really have to stop looking at the comments. they are nothing but idiots. as for sky sports, they are practically useless anyways, okay?" you remind him, running fingers through his soft hair.

lance looks up at you with his soft eyes, his smile small and painful. "it's just so hard when that's all anyone ever says about me," he responds, sniffling slightly. it was such a painful sight that your heart broke.

you hugged him tighter before planting kiss after kissing around his face. "they're fucking idiots anyways," you tell him, kissing his cheeks softly before adding yet another kiss to his forehead. "like genuinely. they have no idea who they are talking about. truly, i wouldn't trust most of them, especially because they have no idea just how amazing you are."

"you don't believe that," he whispers, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "you're just saying that because you're my boyfriend and you have to."

"have you ever known me to lie to anyone, especially you?" you ask him in return, giving him a soft smile.

lance shakes his head no and wipes his eyes. he takes in such a deep—and shakey—breath, calming himself down enough to look you in the eyes. he always felt comfortable and confident with you. "thank you," he says softly, hugging you tightly, his face pressed to your shoulder. "for everything."

"you don't need to thank me, baby," you reply, your voice slightly muffles by his hair as you were kissing the top of his head. "i am always here for you, regardless of day, month, year, anything. if you need me, i am here."

he sniffles more and hugs you tighter. this time, his tears were happy as he knew he had found his person, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his days with.

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile

[quokka-hanniee]

Hold My Hand Now

WARNING: Mentions of death, depression, crying, brief swearing, yelling, anger, and mentions of suicide and therapy

Genre: Sad

Synopsis: Two months after Minho's death and Jisung has never been the same. As a remembrance to his lover, Jisung fulfills Minho's dying wish... to finish the song he wrote about him

Author's Note: Is this my first fanfic? No. Is this my first fanfic on here? Yes. So it's gonna suck and be very poorly paced (above pics are not mine! credits for divider goes to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

Han Jisung's hands trembled slightly as he turned his car onto the grass under the big oak tree at the cemetery. After putting the car in park, he sat back in his chair and looked at himself in the rearview mirror. His reflection seemed to be mocking him for how horrible he looked, with his tear stained cheeks and red puffy eyes. Everything seemed to be mocking him nowadays.

Jisung grabbed the bouquet of flowers he laid over the console and stepped out of the car, straightening his tie and smoothing out his jacket even though no one could see him. He walked up to a grave stone and dropped to one knee in front of it, placing the bouquet of flowers down before him before looking up at at the grave stone. There were already a bunch of bouquets of flowers in front of the grave, and they were all Jisung's. Every Wednesday he came.

"Minho? I don't know if you can hear me.. but I brought you some flowers.. again. The last four were tulips and daisies, but I brought roses this time because I remember how you said you liked roses, especially the white ones."

Jisung looked down at the ground, where his knee was planted into the wet soil. A fresh wave of tears washed over him.

"I'm sorry.." he choked out. "I know I apologize every time, but I need you to realize how much of an idiot I was to let things get as bad as they did.. I should have been there when you needed me the most.. I should have realized you needed my help.. I was selfish.. and I can never forgive myself.."

Jisung coughed out a few more sobs before he looked back up at the grave stone, his vision blurry from the tears.

"Please come back.. I'll be a better boyfriend, I promise.. I'll give you whatever you want and more.. I'll be there for you.. just please.."

Jisung saw his reflection in the grave stone, and once again it seemed to mock him. It seemed to laugh at him, saying, "You fool! Don't you see what you've done? Because of your stupid mistake Minho is gone and will never come back! You have no right to come here and beg on your knees because you were the one that caused this. You're the cause of the pain, not him. You're the one who pushed him away when all he wanted was a hug, a kiss, something to make him feel better. It's you, all you.."

Jisung collapsed, curling up in a ball as he sobbed. He knew it was him. He knew he was the reason Minho took his life. He knew all of this. But it hurt him to realize it every time.

When Jisung got back to his dorm, Felix was sitting on his bed. He looked up from the magazine he was reading and gave Jisung a small, warm smile. Jisung didn't return it, though. He was too distraught.

Jisung fell onto his bed and buried his face into his pillow. "Felix, why are you in here?"

Felix stood up and opened Jisung's dresser drawer, throwing the magazine in it. "I was looking for you. I forgot it was Wednesday."

Jisung was silent before he said, his voice strained as he struggled to fight back tears, "I don't know what to do. I feel like I've tried everything, but nothing is working. I can't be happy anymore, my old hobbies aren't as fulfilling as they once were, and you guys aren't helping me at all."

Felix sat down on the bed behind Jisung. "Jisung, we're trying to help you out.. but it's hard because we haven't been through as much pain as you, and you aren't really excepting what we give you because of your pain.."

Jisung sat up rapidly, his face red from crying. "Oh, so now the blame's on me? You think I don't already have enough shit to deal with? It's my own damn fault Minho's gone, I don't need you adding to that horror."

Felix flinched slightly at Jisung's words. He knew he didn't mean them, though, and that it was the heartbreak making him speak like that. Felix threw his arm over Jisung's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug, watching as the young boy cried into his hands.

"Some nights I just want to go the same route Minho did.. but then I remember how he used to always tell me that when the going gets tough, the tough get going.. and I try to apply that every day, but it's so hard because I don't have him by my side to help me.."

Felix's heart ached for Jisung. He wished he knew what he was going through, but frankly, he didn't. He let out a soft sigh.

"I'm signing you up for a health care provider.."

Jisung lifted his head from his hands, his eyes wide as he looked at Felix. "What?"

Felix looked into Jisung's eyes. "I said I'm signing you up for a health care provider. Like a psychiatrist or something. You need the professional help, because apparently we aren't helping you out in the way you need it."

Jisung opened his mouth to argue, but he snapped it shut. Felix was right. Completely right. He gave a small nod.

Felix smiled and stood up. "We're going to McDonald's tonight for dinner.. if you want to join us.."

He then turned on his heel and left.

Jisung collapsed onto his pillows. That's when he noticed a small note on the table by his bed, folded neatly with the paper stained at the edges. He picked it up, opening it gently.

Dear Jisung,

Remember that night you and I shared popcorn and watched a romantic movie, when I got the call my grandma passed? I cried for a whole week and nothing seemed to cheer me up. Until you sang me that song you wrote. What was it called? Hold my Hand? I really liked it, and it made me happy.

I've been feeling down lately. Can you sing that for me again?

Just once.. I'll really appreciate it

Minho

As soon as Jisung finished reading the note he clutched it to his chest, a tear rolling down his cheek. He remembered that song like he wrote it yesterday, though he never actually completed it.

Jisung rolled over, sitting up and hanging his head. That's when he looked back up and saw the guitar sitting by his closet. Red, chrome, still in great shape. The same one he used to sing Hold my Hand.

Jisung got off his bed and set the note down, walking over to his guitar and picking it up. It felt heavy in his hands, and he wasn't completely used to the feel. He grabbed the guitar pick that was behind the guitar and placed it against the strings, strumming slowly. The sound was melodious, and it caused a small smile to spread across Jisung's lips. But that smile dropped quickly when he realized- he has the music sheet for Hold my Hand somewhere.

Jisung set the guitar down, desperately searching for his music sheet. He rummaged through his closet and through all of his dresser drawers, when he saw it, a white piece of paper stuffed underneath a neatly stacked pile of clothes that had hand drawn music notes on it. Gently, Jisung pulled the paper out, his eyes scanning over it.

Hold my Hand: Music and Lyric sheet

Jisung's eyes beamed with joy and he sat on his bed, grabbing his guitar and pick again. He set the sheet down on the bed beside him and started picking at the strings on his guitar, struggling to meet the right note. He tuned a few times, before hitting a string that sent nostalgia rushing through his brain. It almost seemed now that he remembered exactly how the song went. Smiling softly, Jisung began strumming his guitar and singing quietly to himself, reading off of the sheet behind him. Everything sounded so right, just like how he remembered. This was it. This was Hold my Hand.

It was Friday morning. Jisung sat on a small, metal chair behind the stage, his head in his hands and his guitar strapped around him. It had been a month and a half since he re-wrote Hold my Hand, keeping the original chorus but adding more to attain to his needs. He was nervous, scared, even, as he was about to perform this song for the first time in front of Stay.

When it was time for the song to be performed, Jisung walked out on stage with his guitar in hand. A smile was on his face, a bright happy one. Deep down Jisung knew it was fake, though. Only Minho could make him smile the way he used to.

As Jisung started the song, the hip, loud music made his heart thump in his chest, and he couldn't resist dancing to the beat before grabbing the mic and singing into it. His eyes were closed as he sang, because he was afraid if he opened them he would cry. Every word that came out of his mouth he felt, and the song never seemed more real than at that moment. He forced his eyes open, averting his eyes above the screaming crowd and up to the heavens.

And there he saw it. Minho, smiling, happy, his eyes alive and carefree as he listened to Jisung's song. His face was bright and joyful, and he looked so beautiful. He looked down at Jisung, the smile still on his face as he seemed to say, "Thank you."

And Jisung smiled back. A real, genuine smile. He looked back at the crowd, the smile still spread across his lips as he screamed out

"Baby, hold my hand now!"

[thestoriesincoffeestains]

Elmo was all too aware that his expressions were powerful. Before Max, he had a tendency to shoot a melt-worthy glance or two toward fans in the stands, which only made them scream his name even louder. Being able to aim that look at Max and know it was effective was the only ego booster Mo needed now. "I know, it's just easier to crash after a loss, which sucks." He smoothed a hand against the back of Max's shoulder and sighed, knowing he'd be up late as he waited for the adrenaline to dwindle. "Thanks," he said, voice soft, fingers quick to squeeze Max's shoulder. Too bad the higher-ups didn't think so. Not wanting to linger on that thought, he added, "No training this weekend. You wanna go out, or stay in?"

It was a good thing Max was already sitting down, as the look his lover shot his way was enough to make him weak in the knees. He was sure the fire was evident in his own gaze as well, and he nearly called off dinner in favor of going another round (or two). Before he could the moment had passed, and he allowed Mo to drag him closer, stretching out along the mattress with his head on his boyfriend's chest. "The adrenaline will wear off eventually," he hummed, his fingertip tracing invisible patterns across Elmo's abs. "You really were great out there tonight," he said, tilting his head up so he could see Mo's face. "Made me even more proud to be your boyfriend."

[cumaeansibyl]

depression is stupid

on Sunday I went to a little gay dance we have biweekly, and I hadn't been to the big gay goth dance the week previous. and I swear to god six different people came up and said OH MY GOD I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU WE WERE TALKING ABOUT HOW YOU WEREN'T HERE -- mind you, I'd been at the previous little gay dance two weeks ago -- and I ended up getting invited to a goth night in NYC where our local DJ is breaking into the scene, and all of this, and it was really great

and then like, I fucking love dancing, but even on the dance floor my brain would suddenly say "god you're so worthless and everything sucks, let's feel angry and sad and desolate." literally not fifteen minutes after a bunch of people were super nice to me for no possible reason other than genuinely liking me and being glad to have me around

all I could really do at that point was say "listen, were you not there fifteen minutes ago, you're so blatantly and obviously wrong it would be funny if you didn't also have the power to make me feel like shit about it"

for me, I have to keep reaching for happiness and connection and accomplishment in order to have this contrary evidence to throw at the unreliable narrator in my head, but it's damn difficult when even in the midst of having a good time it can just fucking show up like "hey, time for The Bad Chemicals"

and yeah part of that is grief, too. how at any time, but mostly when I least expect it, I remember my best friend is dead and I can never share anything with him again. and I know he loved me and wanted me to be happy, and would be so proud and pleased to know that I'd found something I loved to do with people who treated me well (he would say they obviously recognized quality when they saw it) but sometimes it feels so pointless without him.

at this point in my life I know in my heart that those negative thoughts are wrong, and needlessly cruel to boot, and yet everything I do to contradict them has at best only partial success. it's incredibly frustrating! I have done decades of work to defend myself against this thing my brain does sometimes and sometimes it still doesn't help at all! And that may be the case for the rest of my life!

even celebrating my successes -- and I am so much better than I used to be -- doesn't always help how bloody annoying it is when I can't fend off the black dog.

[autoraton]

Riz pulling so much weight for everyone and securing votes vs Kristen being the closest to failing out of school thus inadvertently screwing him. plus her inadvertently bringing Kalina back, who as it stands serves as an antagonistic and deeply painful force in Riz's life. there's just something really ripe and tragic about their friendship rn (even moreso if you wanna throw in the meta that the narrative was steered towards Riz running against Kipperlilly) and it's neither of their faults. I feel like I'm watching a disaster in slow motion.

[theotherrookie]

"So that's sorted out. Now we just have to hide the car." Rook said with a nod, "I didn't waste two hours casting warding spells just for somebody to get in here to steal an abandoned car."

Willow nodded in agreement. The car was also full of evidence they had to get rid of. Perhaps Erica could tend to that.

"Indeed. If that man is as rich as he appears to be, he might be dumb enough to have purchased abandoned property around the city to carry out his operations." the cyborg said, eyeing Lucien, "Move your hand or I will remove your arm."

Lucien stepped away from Willow's cake for good measure. It was best not to get on her bad side when it came to food. He instead grabbed a pack of Oreos and sat by.

"Hey, you scared two big guys. You did great!" Erica told Russell, before going up to Travis, "Smokey wants to meet your brother."

She had been sitting still for too long. She needed a distraction.

"If you need assistance, I would gladly help you persuade that individual." Willow offered.

"Let me know if you need a feather or two." Rook told Leofric. She doubted the Twins could do anything to have the best of him, but she felt the need to fill in for her mother.

Still, it didn't seem like the brothers had heard much to prepare an escape plan, or really cared to. One was dealing with a concussion and the other was standing in the way as soon as they heard Leofric knock.

"Oh, it's fine. Well, room service kinda sucks."

"So, is it our turn to the torture dungeon? We can't wait to see how you arranged the furniture."

They were royally fucked, but they could still keep their attitude while they could.

"Well, send me a copy." Rook replied, "I'll keep it in a safe place so you can clean up in case of need."

Nobody could get in her pocket without her permission and being suspended in the void erased the chance of the files degrading over time.

"That's a bit better." Erica said, grabbing an apple. It seemed like she was content having a little snack and petting Smokey for the time being. She was confident she would find out which one of the Twins had shot her soon enough.

"Assuming they only have one hideout." Lucien said, "In any case, once we have a clue of where to look, we can always check in with Tommy and Timmy. They are bound to know."

"We should also look into whoever owns said place." Willow added, "It may lead nowhere, but it is always worth researching."

But it seemed her idea resonated with the others. Willow decided to eat something as well while it was being discussed. Scheming was even more energy consuming than fighting.

"Indeed. Plus, they already seem to believe that Russell might be more than what he seems." she added, "We aren't looking to befriend them. The objective is to persuade them into siding with the lesser evil."

Whatever they thought Russell to secretly be.

"We can certainly set the plan into motion immediately. Go ahead, Leofric."

"Hey, maybe instead of smashing their brains in, we can use them for practice." Erica said, "I have a few new tricks I want to try out, I just need a target."

"There's always the pervert— Pardon me, Gary." Lucien said, "That fool has more fake identities than me."

"Don't worry, we'll figure out what his real name is." Erica replied, giving Lucien's arm a pat.

[chittychittyyangyang]

Between waiting for V10 news, my own personal stuff, and the US now being on fire (partially) literally, I know I've been pretty quiet here. Even before all of this I was pretty shut down emotionally, and I am just very absent as a person right now. I feel like many are struggling, and I wanted to share something that has helped me some:

What I find myself thinking about the most is like that she was out there and brave and looking for love at a time when her existence was criminalized. It's hard to remember that there was all of this light in the dark ages, but there was still these brazen romances. And I don't know that love was still stronger than fear, at least at times.

You're Wrong About - Kitty Genovese and “Bystander Apathy”

Stories about existing and loving in a world that wants you gone. It's not that horrible things didn't happen or won't happen, but that we will make do. Loving who you love, and being you matters. All of us matter. Our stories and lives, big and small matter.

Take care of those close to you. Find little moments of joy. Disconnect when you can. Read, create, and rest when you can. If you feel like nothing you do can change anything, volunteer. Sure, you can't fix a broken system right now by yourself, but you can help people have a hot meal they might not otherwise get.

As for the RW/BY stuff here, that's not going to change, other than maybe less in part because I just use this as an archive between volumes. I've been here for so long it would feel weird not to at this point. I know some people have found some level of comfort that I'm still here keeping up this blog, and I hope I continue to provide that for people (and, of course, bees).

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

Garak is So much right from his first episode. Laura Palmer of Cardassia over here trying to get laid, foil a terrorist plot, AND work a retail shift, all while high as fuck. Dude’s schedule in Past Prologue is FULL.

[imminent-danger-came]

I really am so sad I don't like isat. The themeing was very good

[ibetittering]

Fuck all of y'all in Florida how dare you misrepresent my liberal king that man loves women (not in that way) and he would not STAND for this smh

[anaalnathrakhs]

oh god ed reddit is having the “uwu anorexia isn’t rooted in fatphobia my mental illness is not abt you” talk again please god help me

fatphobia doesn’t mean “being a meanie to fat ppl” i’m begging you to use critical thinking skills for five seconds and apply what you know about literally any other form of oppression to this situation.

people’s point isn’t that you having anorexia makes them feel bad and therefore you’re a bad fatphobic person.

they’re pointing out how the deeply ingrained fatphobia our society upholds, from misconceptions about health to moralization of looks and weight, including yes being jerks to fat ppl’s faces bc they’re fat, is affecting what you think about your own looks, weight, health, body, clothes, eating habits, etc.

the logic isn’t “you became anorexic because you hate fat people so much you never wanted to be fat yourself (and that makes you a bad person)” it’s “fatphobia is a prism that transforms the root cause of your ed into disordered thoughts, behaviors, and patterns (and unlearning fatphobia will help you with recovery and harm-reduction)”

like. it’s not for no reason that anorexia is a disorder that disproportionatedly affects women. it’s not for no reason that there’s sky high comorbidity rates for eds and ocd. it’s not for no reason that people who need control in their lives so badly that they develop a mental disorder abt it get obssessed with being skinny and not with being a sumo. it’s not for no reason that ppl who feel the need to retract to childhood due to trauma envy things like being skinny light and frail, instead of being a tubby baby. it’s not for no reason that there is an incredibly common anorexic thought pattern (internal and self-directed, don’t make me say what i didn’t say) that associaties restriction and weight loss with moral goodness.

for each of these there IS a number of exceptions, but you can see case by case how the root cause (trauma, need for control, for self-destruction, growing up poor, whatever you think is “unrelated to fatphobia” basically) is processed through the prism of the fatphobic culture we’ve all been raised in. some people just, voluntarily or not, deal with those root causes in different way, which might or might not be healthy. but it’s a consequence of ambiant fatphobia that “i should starve and be skinny about it” is a statistically pretty common response to this distress.

the point isn’t “it’s fatphobic that you don’t deal with your neuroses in a body positive way uwu” the point is that no matter how cool you are with fat people on like, a personal level, you’ve been (like the rest of us) bombarded with fatphobic thought patterns your entire life basically, both directly fatphobic things and reactions to this fatphobia. maybe spoken to you directly, maybe not. maybe about you maybe about other people. you live in a society that places moral values into looks and health, and also pushes some deeply rooted falsehoods about how those things tie into each other. you have a disorder defined by obsessive behaviors. maybe, just maybe, deconstructing the logic that those obsessives behaviors are based upon will help you deal with this disorder. and recover or reduce harm.

basically, anorexia isn’t “getting skinny disorder” it’s “obsession disorder”, obsession with looking attractive, or pleasing your family, or going back to being a kid, or being healthy, or being fit, or being driven and capable, or being worth saving, or having your suffering known, or having control over something, or whatever. the fatphobia that is omnipresent (and i repeat, omnipresent, nobody is singling you out as a bad fatphobic meanie, or even talking about your behavior towards other people around you) in our society picks the direction in which many many people will express that disorder.

of course if you live in a society that tells you “being fat is morally bad” at every turn, when you start developping an obssessive pathological need to control things, without another factor weighting in, most people’s default reaction will be anorexia. food is a regular fixture of everybody’s life, everyone wants to be morally good, and even if we know/understand/believe to an extent the flaws of that “fat = bad” logic we know the world around us still believes it, and nobody wants to be treated like shit. we can think it’s stupid and fight against fatphobia and work to treat fat ppl better in our lives and support body positivity, but in any case, one always judges oneself on different metrics than they judge others, cuz we control our self-improvement. that’s natural. just it doesn’t mesh well with a pathologically obssessive need for control above self-preservation.