#stop making women's issues look like a fucking joke

[utautale-underloid]

saw a terf posting in the pokerogue tag, after the pride event. book an oceangate loser, you don't get to enjoy things that real queer people work on. go hang out with gays for trump

[divinesolas]

Undeniable Desire

c.w season two spoilers; characters (addam and nettles), mention of dragonseeds (nothing more), loss of virginity (jacaerys) non virgin reader, smut, fingering (fem), oral (fem), p in v, clothed sex ?, possessive jacaerys, not proofread

summary: You are dragonseed and have become good friends with the prince. You think nothing of it and not expecting your desires to lead to anything but when you speak of what you think of your future his truer colors show.

w.c: 1.8k

a.n: anybody else cant stop thinking about bridgerton LMAO, i need to rewatch soon, anyways i hope you all enjoy :3 promise im getting around to requests i just needed to push out this idea 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS

You finally manage to shake off addam and his drunken rampage with a laugh telling him off. “come on you cant leave yet.” “I am going to bed you fool leave me be.” You knock him upside the head and he groans giving you the opportunity to walk away and turn back to the rest of them with a wave. Chimes of goodnights and sleep well are what your met with and you walk away, feeling eyes burning into you you turn back once more and see him staring at you with an unknown look on his face, taking a drink out of his chalice ignoring alyn next to him who was talking his ear off, not even sparing him a glance as he continues to stare at you.

You turn around attempting to ignore how your stomach burns and your face heats at the thought of him. Jacaerys Velaryon. You just like the rest of your ‘dragonseed’ friends have grown close to jacaerys during your time together. Yet you can’t help but feel their was something different about the way he looked at you and even other people can’t help but notice it either.

‘He is definitely wants to fuck you.’ ‘Nettles!’ The girl next to you laughs before chugging down her wine. ‘Do not say such things.’ Addam walks over and drops down to the spot next to you, ‘what are you two talking about?’ ‘The prince.’ ‘ah and how he wants to shag miss oblivious right here.’ ‘did you guys plan this?!’ You in your frustration rip the cup out of addams hands and chug it. ‘its not our fault he makes it so painfully obvious and you are so painfully oblivious to it.’ You shake your head and keep your gaze at the campfire in front of you. ‘It is not true.’ you don’t see the way the pair look at each other and instead start picking at the grass near you.

Even if it was true it wouldn’t matter, you certainly had no intention of sleeping with him. He was betrothed and he certainly did not seem like the type of man to lay around with any women he saw fit. He was the crowned prince for gods sake the heir to the queen and you were in the middle of a damn succession war feelings be damned and you were certain your friends were just playing jokes on you and he certainly just saw you as a friend.

You think nothing of it as you are getting ready to go to bed, just having put on your night gown after your bath, when the flap of your tent opens and you turn to it alarmed and let out a sigh of relief when you see him. “I am sorry i did not mean to disturb you.” “It is no issue my prince, Do you need something?”

You turn back to the mirror and fiddle around with your hair, eyeing the prince through the mirror. He just stares at you for a moment and takes a drink from his cup, you gulp and look away from him, pushing down your own desires attempting to stop your imagination from running wild. What if he just walked over to you and pushing you against the mirror, ripping off your dress and having his way with you, maybe he would drop to his knees and wrap his lips around your pearl, only letting go until you were withering and begging him to stop.

You shake your head and “Would it be selfish of me to admit i missed you? i feel as though we did not talk much today?” You smile lightly at his words and curse yourself for thinking such terrible things. Of course he simply just wished to see you, as he had been busy with his duties all day, only getting to see you all at the end of they day only for you to leave before getting to say a single word to him.

“You honor me my prince with your time.” He shakes his head with a laugh taking another sip, “i would give you anything in the world.” You flush and look down, fiddling with your dress too embarrassed to move from your place in front of the mirror. Hes just being dramatic you think, he does not mean what he says, especially since he seems to be drinking. “You are too kind my prince.” “Call me Jace i beg of you.” “Would you truly beg me?” “I would get on my knees at your feet and do whatever you asked.” Your knees shake as you press your thighs together, the heat between you legs almost unbearable, a part of you wants to shoo him away so you can put your hand between your legs and take care of yourself or find some poor soul in the camp to relieve yourself with. You don’t, you cannot simply ask him to leave for such selfish reasons, especially since you know deep deep down that if you sought out somebody else you would only be thinking about him.

He seems to realize you don’t plan on saying anything so he begins to speak. “You know they were all talking about something.” You give him an interested look in the mirror and he takes another sip, “About what they were planning on doing after this fight is over. Do you have any thoughts? About what you plan to do?” You look up in thought, “I haven't given it much thought if im being honest.” He hums but says nothing. “Maybe i go off to the reach, it sounds very lovely.” “You would not stay in the keep?” You laugh at his idea and shake your head, “Why would i stay there? What would you miss me?” He says nothing and you don't look at him, instead continue talking, lost in your own imagination. “I would probably travel around for a bit, then find some lord to marry he fuck some babies into me and then i live the rest of my life-” You gasp as your suddenly pushed against the mirror being completely trapped by him, you hadn’t even registered the cup being thrown to the ground.

“My prince?” He flips you around suddenly and your eye to eye with him. His hands grip your waist and pull you directly against him. “You will not leave.” “I don't understand-” “You are not going anywhere you will stay by my side.” He has an animalistic look about him, like he's about to eat you whole, completely bewildered by the idea of you leaving. “I have no place in the keep.” “Your place is by my side.” His words have such a finality and certainty about them as if he's giving you no reason to argue with him. “You are to be married, This is highly inappropriate.” Your words are pushed out like puffs of air as his hands have moved up to your chest, rubbing your nipples through the fabric, you can feel him hardening between your legs. “I shall take you as a my second wife, no one will argue i will be king.” “You are being absurd.” “Do you desire me?”

You pull him into a heated kiss. He quickly reciprocates, his hands moving from your waist to under your night gown and he lets out a delighted hum at the liquid on your thighs. ‘Are you bare?” “I was planning on sleeping.” He moans lightly before he pauses before actually touching, “Do you want this?” you nod feverishly, “Please touch me please.” wasting no more time he runs his fingers along your folds, “This is for me right? and no some stupid pompous lord in the reach.” “yes yes.” You answer him but he doesn't seem to be listening, mumbling to himself in anger. “I hate the lords in the reach, always with each other heads in their asses no way you will marry any of them, let them put a baby in you.” He sticks two fingers inside you, “I wouldn’t i wouldn’t only you.” The pit in your lower stomach grows as you watch in shock him drop to his knees in front of you, his body being lost to your gown as he begins to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers moving quicker to pump in and out of you.

You cannot speak so much of his name. Using one of your hands to cover your mouth to not draw attention to yourself, the other plays with one of your tits, sliding it under your dress. He does not let up, even has you orgasm once then twice, only releasing you after the third time and you fall back, leaning against the mirror with wobbly legs as he keeps a tight grip on you holding you up as he stands. You can see the shine of your own essence on his lips and jaw, you swear you can even see some of it dripping down his neck into his collarbone.

He simply stands there and watches you fiddle around with his pants to free him for a few moments as he licks his lips. “You do not know how often i have thought about this.” You look up at him and give him a smile, “You think of me?” “Every minute of everyday, my waking thoughts and my dreams are only filled with you.”

Before you know it he is pushing into you with a hiss and you chuckle with a delighted moan at his closed eyes and clenched teeth. “First time?” “I may not have been your first but i will be your last.” Giving himself a second to get used to your pulsing warm walls that seem to be sucking him in every second he begins to move. Hes a little sloppy, clearly unsure and if anything a little unconfident about what he’s supposed to do. You place your head on his neck, making sure your lips are right next to his ear and you begin to move your hips to meet his, moaning in his ear only for him to hear.

He gains confidence after a few moments and soon enough you have no longer and need to meet him as he begins to pound into you diligently. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic as the pit in your stomach grows once more. “please tell me your close.” You’re shocked he’s even managed to last this long but nod and he groans in delight. “Please peak please together.”

The mirror behind you is completely covered with a foggy mist just as your eyes are when you finally release. You pray as you catch your breath that you two were quiet enough because you would rather be dead than me made fun of by your friends for finally fucking the prince. But as you feel his seed running out your lips and down your thigh you decide maybe it was worth it.

--

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (12)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, longing, abandonment issues, crazy reader

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (11)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Friday came and went. All your hopes died because you bought the new dress and dolled yourself up for nothing.

Sadly, Bucky had to cancel your next date. He told you that he must help his friend on what he called a mission.

You understood that some things are more important than a date, but it felt like the world crashed down on you hearing these words come out of Bucky’s mouth.

He didn’t even come around to tell you face-to-face. Bucky called to cancel your date. Since that day, you haven’t heard of him.

It’s been six excruciatingly long days since you last heard of him. No call. No smile. Not even a damn postcard. You’d accepted smoke signals too.

Checking your phone again, you sigh deeply. You left the curtains open and touched yourself for almost an hour, but nothing happened. Your plushies are the only witnesses to your naughtiness.

It’s another Thursday night, and you haven’t heard of your secret admirer yet. He missed your sex date and didn’t send any gifts.

You huff, frustrated. How dare he leave you hanging like that? You had something special, and now you are all alone on your bed, with a slicked vibrator and your plushies as your only company.

“Wait for it,” you curse, and suddenly sit up, slamming your fists into the mattress. “You can’t treat a lady like that, Sir. No way!”

“Did you at least call your date? I hope you know women don’t like it if you don’t show up for a date.” Sam jokes as Bucky is hurriedly running upstairs. Not only to bring Alpine home but to get his phone too.

He had to leave it at home to prevent anyone in his contacts from being in danger if he lost it. Well, he only has you, Sam, and his therapist in his contacts.

“I didn’t have the chance, Sam. I only called her last Friday to tell her I wouldn’t make it to the date.”

“Sheesh, I hope you didn’t lose the girl over this unnecessary mission,” Sam huffs, and runs his hand over his dirty face. He didn’t have a chance to change clothes or take a shower. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this shitshow.”

Bucky swallows thickly. After he planned a future with you, coloring it in the brightest colors, he cannot lose you. “She won’t break up with me over a missed date.”

“Oh, you are going steady already?” Sam cocks a brow. “You didn’t tell me it’s getting serious. I’m going to be your best man, right?”

“I’ll think about it if you never stop me from going on a date with her again,” Bucky grumbles. He can’t wait to check on the footage he recorded over the last few days and to see you.

“Alpine, punk!” Bucky shoos his cat away. He tried to catch up on what he missed, only to find his cat sitting on the remote control. “Shush, I need to hear—”

His heart stops beating for a second when he hears you cry. You tell your plushies that you believe that your secret admirer lost interest and that Bucky canceled your date.

“No, doll,” he sniffles. “Baby…doll…don’t cry.” His features darken when he switches to the livestream. You’re packing a suitcase and three duffle bags, stuffing all your favorite plushies into one bag. “What is she doing?” He pumps up the volume, but he can’t hear anything. “Fuck!”

Alpine hisses because Bucky jumps up. What if he missed something? What if you are going on a vacation or, worse, move out?”

He panics. “Fuck, Alpine, we got to get her today!” Bucky says this and quickly looks around the room, wringing his hands.

There’s nothing worth keeping, but a few things from the past he always kept in an emergency backpack. He walks toward the laptop, grabbing it before he calls for Alpine to jump on his shoulder. The last things he grabs are the plant he bought and the backpack before storming toward the door.

He doesn’t look back. Bucky won’t miss the apartment. This place was never home to him. Maybe no place will ever feel like home again. The apartment was a necessity, nothing else.

Bucky holds his breath. After storing his things in his car and telling Alpine to sit in the passenger seat and not make a fuss, he decided to follow you around town.

You’re currently dragging your suitcase behind you, huffing and muttering because your feet hurt like hell. You had hoped your secret admirer would show up when you walked around town with your suitcase and bags.

“Fuck,” you curse, and stop walking for a second. You look left and right. A noise caught your attention, and you feared someone else, but your secret admirer followed you.

You step backward when the person following you steps out of the shadows. He sighs and shakes his head when you get your phone out to throw at him.

Bucky easily catches your phone and gives you an apologetic smile.

“It’s late, and you shouldn’t walk around in the dark all alone.” His eyes darken when you cross your arms over your chest.

“What?” You huff and give him the stinky eye. “Wait! You didn’t stalk me for a week. Where have you been?”

Bucky gasps. You know he’s your secret admirer, and you don’t seem afraid at all. “What? I…” He can’t fathom that you are mad at him for not stalking you.

“We have a routine, sir. I leave my bedroom curtains open so you can get a glimpse of my cute bottom, and I get off imagining you will break into my apartment to eat my coochie!”

Bucky exclaims loudly. “What the fuck!”

“You can’t change our routine out of the blue. Thursday nights are there for our sex dates, Bucky! How can you just disappear and not even call me?”

“Sex dates?” Bucky starts to sweat. He looks around the deserted street, asking himself if this is the right moment to grab you. Moments ago, he wanted to take you with him, but now he’s unsure. Maybe you’re out of your mind at the moment because he didn’t call you for over a week.

You stare at each other for a moment. Bucky looks unsure and swallows thickly.

“I got the bags with me for a reason,” you say, pointing at the duffle bags slung over your shoulder and the suitcase standing next to you. “Now, chop-chop and kidnap me! I want to see your home!”

Part 13

Tags in reblog.

[uncivilliberties]

>unfairly banned

>checks internet archive of her blog

>99% of the posts are completely unlabeled pornographic text and fantasies, not even a tag

>checks tumblr guidelines:

"Nudity and other kinds of adult material are generally welcome. We’re not here to judge your art, we just ask that you add a Community Label to your mature content so that people can choose to filter it out of their Dashboard if they prefer. You have the option to add a community label when making a new post, reblogging a post, or editing an existing post. Depending on your content, you can label it as generally mature or choose a specific category such as “Sexual Themes” if your post contains sexually suggestive subject matter."

if you actually give a shit about transfems who are getting harassed left and right then stop martyring people who are getting banned for not labeling NSFW content they post.

and god before anyone tries to have a fit and accuse me of some bullshit, i do not have anything against NSFW, i'm not a puritan asshole, what i DO have an issue with is people posting sexual content without any content labels (yet alone tags) meaning people who don't want to see that content can end up getting exposed to it anyway, even if they've taken the time to filter tags.

What are you fucking talking about? 99%? She posted about music and chatted with friends and made shitposts. It would take an extremely bad faith reading of her blog to find out uniquely objectionable UNLESS you were already inclined to find trans women's existence inherently sexual.

In your reply to this post you accuse her of constantly posting about her kinks and fetishes, helpfully including a link to the Internet archive. Let's take a look, hmmm? Wow, that's a lot of posts about music. In the limited snapshot available at that link I see one (1) masturbation joke that wouldn't even be a blip on the radar if this were anyone else's blog, a goofy ask about breasts that she answered in kind, and a couple of references to being a deergirl. Oh, I see what you mean. The crazy thing about this is that it took one single word to turn it horny. She could have said deer and not deergirl. You absolute dipshit.

"I'm not a puritan asshole, I just wear puritan asshole pants and a big puritan asshole hat and shout puritan asshole bullshit." Even if there was NSFW material somewhere in her history it would still be the thinnest possible excuse for banning her. It would still be blatant selective application of the terms of service weaponized against trans existence. Do we really need a community label on every single dick joke on this site to keep the children safe from harm? Cis people get to make dick jokes with impunity!

"People who don't want to see that content can end up getting exposed to it anyway" This is not the foundation for any sort of moral imperative! This cannot serve as the basis for any sort of course of action! The idea that we need to tag and police and bubble wrap any potentially objectionable thing online is exactly the excuse they are using for KOSA. It's no kink at Pride discourse. It's this post about Pete Buttigieg.

Straight people don't get policed like this. Cis people don't get held to these standards. Are you Staff in a wig and fake nose pretending to be a user supporting their rationale?

[uncouth-the-fifth]

good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

[casssmalefantasy]

some people on here defending jada’s behavior is crazy to me?? i wouldn’t be surprised if most of the ones defending her aren’t even black themselves, but since some of you don’t understand why this is an issue..i’ll explain it!

WHY ARE PEOPLE ATTACKING JADA?

for jada to get on a live stream (knowing people will screen record) and laugh while two white males make jokes on black women is disrespectful and disgusting behavior. idc if the “jokes” he made abt angel weren’t that bad, yall should know by now that the way #that family treats angel is weird and rude. he then goes on to make comments brittney that was disgusting. she sat there and instead of her putting a stop to it..she laughed in her shirt like a dumbass.

WHY ARE YALL MAD? IT WAS JUST JOKES!

no it wasn’t. everyone should know by now that the experience that brittney griner went through is nowhere close to funny. she has opened up about her experience in russia and how traumatic it was her, for him to make jokes abt that is DISGUSTING. then for him to comment on the fact that her kid called her “pops”?? like why tf does that matter?

JADA LOOKS UNCOMFORTABLE! SHE DIDNT LOOK LIKE SHE WANTED TO BE THERE!

if jada was truly uncomfortable by their behavior..she should’ve apologized by now for how they acted and condoning it. instead she turned of her comments…so no she doesn’t seem that sorry!

WHY IS CAITLIN BEING BLAMED? WHAT ABT PAIGE AND AZZI FOR Q MAKING REPOST ABT ANGEL?

nobody is putting full blame on cc, but those are the people she surrounds herself around. her family / family friends have been making comments abt angel for months and will not stop talking abt her. as a public figure..she needs to tell them that they need to be careful on what they say because it will reflect on her. even if she didn’t say those comments, she never feels the need to stand up and say something or at least stop it? in terms of Q reposts on tiktok… this goes back to her not being media trained correctly. that is not to excuse her actions, but she needs to be media trained and clearly isn’t, which isn’t any of the teams fault but hers. unlike q, paige has actually shown support to angel, the community, and black people. cc remains silent and says she’s only focused on “the game” how can you not see the difference? q, jada, and those two white men are fucked up, but let’s not forget that #that family has been attacking angel for months and has caused more damage then q’a stupid ass tiktok repost ever will.

[cherryhoney4u]

a/n: Hiii could you write a fix where izzy stradlin and reader make a sex tape together?

Hi ❤️

Sex Tape

Words: 923

Warnings: *smut* *p in v* *sex recording* *cussing* *come eating* *come play* *sex joke* *praise kink*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

You were in the kitchen fixing yourself a small snack. Izzy was going to the bedroom to take a nap. His guitar was placed by the sock drawer which had a camera on top of it. Izzy went over to the camera and a bunch of tapes fell out behind the camera. He remembered that he had a bunch of tapes he had made ever since 1984. Some of them were of himself jerking off to the women in Playboy and some of them were just silly videos of Axl and him from the Hollywood rose days. Suddenly he had an idea to make a sex tape with you. 

“Hey babe!” Izzy yelled from the bedroom.

You went over to see what the issue was. 

“What’s wrong Iz?” You said watching him hold the camera.

You assumed that there was something wrong with it. 

“Y/N why don’t we make a tape?” Izzy asked you.

“What tape?” You asked.

“A tape with a lot of loud noises and love making” Izzy smirked at you.

You liked the idea.

“A sex tape huh? I love that” You chuckled. 

Izzy got hard at the idea of how he could watch you come as many times as he wanted to on tape. He loved having a piece of you every time he went on tour. He could just pop the tape into the player and watch you fuck him. You watched Izzy’s huge dick. It just keeps getting bigger. You wondered how he was going to fit inside of you. You already were going to come at the thought of him inside of you. You grabbed him and started kissing his neck. You kissed his lips. His nose kept getting in the way. While you slowly and gently kissed him you unbuttoned his shirt. You took your time giving him kisses everywhere on his body. Izzy reciprocated the affection towards you after you took all of his clothes off. Izzy took your clothes off and stopped kissing you. He went over to his camera and he positioned it at an angle where you could see everything. Izzy picked you up and took you to bed. Izzy was on top of you whispering sweet things into your ear. He took his huge cock looked back at the camera and he slid inside of you. The camera caught you looking into his eyes while panting softly. 

“Iz,” you said while he put himself inside of you. 

“Oh Izzy” You moaned loudly once he started to go faster. 

Your hands attached themselves to his shoulders trying to get a grip on something. He grunted as he kept thrusting inside of you. His hips slammed into yours. His hips constantly rolled on yours. You felt your emotions take over and you started to hold his head down while kissing his neck as he fucked you aggressively. He pounded your tiny hole. You felt the friction tear at it and you loved that feeling. It didn’t hurt but it felt so good feeling him inside of you. 

“Izzy” You mumbled as you were kissing his shoulder and his neck. 

The camera caught you petting Izzy’s dark black hair gripping his back. Soon your nails would make deep contact with his soft skin. You scratched and dug his hips while he fucked you. 

“Y/N so fucking tight. You’re such a good girl. Just keep that pussy tight.” He moaned as he felt you purposely clench your pussy. 

“You like that?” You asked him. You were taking deep breaths and moaning while pushing his hair back with the tip of your fingers.

“Mmm,” He said groaning as he fucked you signaling that he did like you clenching around his big dick. 

“Almost there” He grunted softly as he kept thrusting inside of you while he made continuous eye contact with you. 

“Izzy fuck I’m going to come” You sigh loudly. 

Your body was restless while feeling your orgasm take place. Your orgasm controlled you. You were squirming trying to get a hold of your body so the desirable sensation didn’t end. You felt your hand jerk while it was on Izzy’s head. His head went back into the motionless air. You felt his semen shoot up inside of you. The camera caught the reaction of relief on your face. You finally came on his dick and he pulled out of you. 

“Such a good girl” Izzy praised you again patting your head. 

The camera recorded Izzy’s legs covered in come.

“Now clean me up” Izzy commanded. 

Your tongue traveled down Izzy’s thighs as you licked all of his orgasms up. You loved cleaning him up. 

“Such a good girl cleaning me up. Don’t waste any of it.” Izzy praised you one final time as he looked down at you.

 He could see your head moving around trying to get to all of the crevices his small jets of come were splattered on. You stopped when there was nothing left. He lifted your body in his arms carrying you bridal style up to the camera showing all of the come that he left on you. He showed your tits and your wet pussy. 

“Babe click on the stop button,” He asked you gently. 

You clicked on the stop button.

“I’m going down to convert this recording into a tape soon. You wanna come with me?” Izzy said, chuckling.

“I already did come with you” You smirk while your fingertips gently circled the sides of his body. 

Izzy laughed once he realized your joke. 

[lolamarlowe65]

Slash x reader

“𝓜𝔂 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓷 𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓮, 𝓶𝔂 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓾𝓫𝓵𝓮.”

“She can take my soul for the record, I don’t give a shit.”

one shot x reader

disclaimers : age gap (modern day slash), smut, thigh riding, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slash’s feral internal dialogue, cursing, smoking, rough stuff, grown girls stuff <33

4.6k words

AO3 link

iii];)’ .・• ✰ ⋆

y/n pov

I started to work as a staff member for Guns n’Roses a few months ago. Everything is great as fuck. The music, the job, the mood all around the band. In overall, everything is going well. My relationships with the band members were super friendly and they made me feel quickly as if I was part of the gang. But there is one thing. One person. Him. Slash. The moment I started my job here he immediately started teasing me. Nothing big. He tells me how much of a weird chick I am, he gives me smug smiles anytime he sees me as a way of saying “here comes the freak”. It has never felt as if he hates me or anything, it just amuses him to see me rolling my eyes to his puns. When I first discovered Slash, I admit that I developed a crush on him, you know the “rockstar crush”. I didn’t start to work here for that, but seeing him almost everyday was definitely a plus, well, if he didn’t drive me crazy with his provocations. It is a plus, yes, but I actually never thought of trying anything with him. I am a younger chick in whom he’d see no interest, apart from a way of having fun. I wouldn’t mind but that would be too complicated to manage with this job. Honestly, most of the time, his jokes make me laugh. I look at him with a pissed off grin and say “haha” or I stick out my tongue. It became a game between us. To the words of Duff “leave the girl alone man”. Apparently, Slash doesn’t listen to his best friend’s advice because he never stops. If we weren’t so different or if I knew him a little better I would say he’s flirting with me. “What a weird chick you are.” sounds like a love declaration coming from a man with such an attraction for creepy stuff. I do think about it as flirting sometimes. Mostly the days when I'm not in the mood for his jokes I imagine he’s flirting with me, helps me to not actually kill him. Being with a man like him wouldn’t bother me, actually, I would love it. He isn’t only hot and cool. He is interesting, passionate, peaceful but wild and genuinely beautiful. Beautiful on the inside and on the outside.

I am a person that’s pretty impulsive. When I feel frustrated, I will go for it, even if it means breaking my own promises. I try to hold myself back, but I have no desire to be perfect. I smoke, I have a high body count, anger issues, I keep doing the same shits over and over again and failing. But I also have skills that I don’t hide, I am strong minded and the way I see it : it has never really helped me with my relationships to people. Especially men. Labeling me “weird chick” is not original Saul. I’m sure most women are like me. But the world doesn’t see it I guess.

Today, I am not in the mood. We’ve got some problems with the gears, the venue isn’t ready and my hormones are working on me. Everything in me is boiling, every emotion. I can manage my emotions and impulses, hormones are not an excuse to be an asshole. But in this type of job, you have to take a lot of shit from people you don’t like so the band themselves don’t have to. Granted, they had to confront them in order to make their band what it is today but man, this isn’t easy. So, as for today, frustration will be my motto. One person pisses me off, I will send them to their grave.

As if it wasn’t enough, we’ve asked me to bring some guitar gear in Slash’s backstage room. I have purposely avoided him since the start of my shift, which is not easy when you are working for him. So far it seems to work, changing hallways last minute, not going to the crowded places and most importantly, his backstage room. From the glimpses of him I saw thorough the day I could tell you how beautiful he looked. He always does, but today it’s working on me. Which is frustrating me even more because I want to see him as much as I want to avoid him. His style didn’t change much from any other day, the sunglasses, the leather jacket, the hat and one of those shirts he has the secret of. It’s just that today is a day where my mind said fuck off to any type of morals I may try to have and I have to manage it as best as I can.

Before going into his backstage room, I made sure he wasn’t around. As I enter the room and leave his gear I can’t help but stop in front of the mirror before heading out. I contemplate my reflection, my eyes lingering over my body. The sadder part with those days is that I feel like I can’t and will never be understood or loved. This doesn’t bother me the majority of the time because it’s probably true and I have made peace with it a long time ago. My emotions are on the verge on days like those, so I let myself grief this fact. I wouldn’t say I look beautiful. I wouldn’t say I am satisfied with my life right now. Even if it is going slowly in the right direction. I let out a tear thinking of all this and whip it away quickly.

“- Looking good y/n, trying to cosplay a zombie?” Slash laughs.

Shit. Just what I fucking needed.

“- Not today Saul.” i answer, rolling my eyes.

He is standing right behind me, I can see his smug smile and I know his eyes are playful even if they are hidden behind sunglasses.

“- Wow, Saul? Did somebody give you food after midnight?” he jokes.

I turn around and look at him with defiant eyes. He needs to be teached a lesson. You don’t piss y/n off like that. Slash or not Slash. I don’t know what I am about to do, but that’s definitely going to be interesting.

“- Fuck you. Did it ever occur to you that your teasing game might piss me off?” i ask, sassily.

“- And what are you going to do about it?” he teases, again, big smile on his lips.

“- Well… I could do that.” i say in a provocative tone.

I slowly wrap my fingers around the sides of his sunglasses and remove them off his face. I let them fall on the floor. I want to stay defiant to his eyes, I want to keep holding his gaze. Being nice and clean, putting away his sunglasses nicely is not in my scenario today. There’s a look I have never seen on him before. A fire in his eyes. He holds my gaze as hard as I hold his. My breath becomes heavier as I approach my lips dangerously to his. I can feel his chest go up and down heavily. It’s working.

“- See. Pretty annoying right?” i smile.

Fuck. The swift of breath from his lips too close to my smile is actually going to drive ME crazy. What an ass. Making me feel this way. I must stay focused. He smiles back at me, hinting his approval. He understood that we entered a game and he is letting me play. Let’s see how much I can push him before I make him mad. He doesn’t say a word, waiting for my next move. I step back and close the door. I remark that Slash is studying me, looking at my body, his stare lingering over my ass and hips. At this instant, the teasing game turned into lust.

I breathe heavily, getting him to stare back into my eyes.

“- Careful where your eyes linger big boy.” i incite, biting my lower lip.

I approach him again, purposely making him take a step back in the direction of the couch behind him.

“- I could also do that.” i smirk.

I grab his crotch. His cock hardens immediately at my grip. My pussy gets wet at this simple touch. I didn’t know how much teasing and keeping a person on edge could make me feel that much desire. Or maybe it’s Slash. Probably both, this raw, pure, lustful desire. Everything in my head is torn apart and I question everything. Did he start teasing just for fun or was he trying to hold back everything I am about to unleash right now. Was it his way of making me a part of his life? And why didn’t he make me understand this obvious desire we have for each other earlier. Fuck. I need him.

I hear him groan and get even bigger in the cup of my hand. I push him on the couch. A big guy like him wouldn’t flinch from a light push from me. I’m not weak but I did not push him very strongly. He let himself be pushed, waiting for my next move. His legs are spread and I take a seat on one of his thighs.

“- I don’t know what you want from me Saul, but I will take what I want. Is that okay?” i ask languorously.

He doesn’t talk, he just bops his head with an audacious smile, answering affirmatively to my question.

“- Good.” i chuckle.

I dispose my lips on his neck. Biting slightly making sure to leave all the spots my lips went to stay wet with my taste. I start kissing his face, all the spots I can, expect his lips, leaving him on edge, teasing him. As I do just that, I start rubbing my clothed cunt against his thigh. I feel him gasp, both for the frustration on his lips and in his pants. I leave a mark in his neck, right under his ear only for me to go above and nip alternatively on both his ears.

“- Mmmh… Fuck.” i curse in between moans.

I rub against his thigh ruthlessly, my thrusts are short but harsh and my pleasure grows more and more. My back arch and I end up using my hands to support myself on his shoulders. I throw my head back and I hear Slash groan. A frustrated groan, making me even more thrilled. Knowing that at this right moment I own him just for my only pleasure makes me even more horny. His thigh is so comfortable, imagining how his pretty cock must be almost brings me to my release.

It’s getting harder for me to hold on. I don’t want him to touch me, I want to keep him on his limit so I take it upon myself and rub as good as I can on his leg.

“- Saul! Fuck that’s good!” i cry.

I pant heavily and I feel my jeans getting soaked with my cum. My legs shake and squeeze around Saul’s leg and my cheeks are all blushed with my effort.

I won.

Slash looks like he is about to explode. Good for him. He looks mesmerized and embittered. That’s what you get for being a little bitch like that. A wild mess lost in his thought. What a magnificent view.

I kiss his lips very quickly and lightly before smiling while putting myself together. Even if this kiss was quick, I had never felt such soft comfortable lips.

“- See. That’s what you get for teasing me.” i playfully say, getting off him.

Saul stays still on the couch, his eyes on fire and I walk toward the door, happy to have pushed his limit, ready to resist his game.

Slash pov

What a fucking bitch. A beautiful mess, out of breath and still taking away mine. She is lighting herself a cigarette. Like she is gonna get away with this. I can’t hold on anymore, I have to make her mine. I have to have her all for me, I have to fuck her and make her come again but this time around my cock. I have to make her my girl.

Truth is, ever since she started working here she drives me crazy. She is one of those women that don’t give a shit. She has no mind about being perfect, she’s completely detached from reality, she does her things and she doesn’t take shit. She’s a weird chick some might say, but I absolutely adore creepy shits. Her wilderness and emotions are always so honest. I have held back for the past few months because she’s much younger than me. I’ve never felt as if I was worth dating a chick like her and I was sure she would say no. I’d rather tease her and at least have some kind of interactions with her than avoid her all the time.

Before she could open the door I push her against the wall. Her eyes look like a lost puppy. I take the cigarette out of her mouth and throw it in the ashtray on the table. She had all the time she needed to get away, but she stayed here. Back against the wall still high on her orgasm. Watching her pleasuring herself on my thigh was both a torture and delight. I wanted to touch her and make her come with my hands. She refused and left me on edge. The only thought in my head was among the lines of “What a bitch, I want her.” I come back to her and put one of my hands on her waist pushing her more against the wall and the other in her neck, my fingers playing with her jawline. I breathe close to her mouth for a few seconds, teasing her as she did. She seems to take frustration way harder than me because she looks pissed and starved, and this makes me even more out of my mind. I take her lips hungrily, I kiss her, starving for her tongue. Fuck, I shouldn’t be so crazy about her but here she is, moaning in my mouth begging for my tongue to play with hers. Such soft lips. So tender and matching mine perfectly.

“- You shouldn’t have done that y/n. I will not let you get away, so if you wanna go, go now.” i say to her, drunk on her scent.

She moans as I take the back of her thighs and wrap her legs around me. Still against the wall, I wait for her answer while kissing her collarbone.

“- Hmmm��� do it.” she almost whispers.

“- Do what?” i tease.

“- For Christ’s sake! Do it! Fuck me fuckhead!” she laments.

“- Your desires are orders madam.” i answer her playfully, smiling in the crook of her neck.

I go back to her mouth, mixing my tongue with hers while I tease her thighs with my hands. I can feel her wet cunt on my lower stomach and her laments desperate to deal with this ache. To hell with it. She deserves it. I rip her thin shirt away to expose her tits to me. She will take my shirt. Fuck it. She doesn’t wear a bra and I can access her perfect tits immediately. I lick and bite them mercilessly, teasing her more and more. I can’t wait to enter her but I just want to hear her beg for me.

“- Saul… mmhm… stop.. mmh… fucking around… mmhm… and fuck me already!” she pants, out of breath.

“- I fucking love the way you curse all the time.” i tell her, biting the skin around her nipple.

I remove her pants and underwear. What a pretty sight. What a pretty cunt. I could make this my meal for the rest of my life. I’d never starve. I put her back against the wall. I want to show her how bad I’ve wanted her for the last months. I want to show her what I wanted to do to her every time she’d pass over me in a hallway. How hungry, how bad I have been craving her. I unbuckle my pants and let my dick free. Her eyes got bigger and she opened her mouth to the view of my hard cock. She looks at it like she got to have a taste of her favorite meal and it drives me crazy. I give her no time to comment before I push her head against the wall kissing her lips as I bury myself deep inside of her. She’s so fucking wet. Fucking hell. I know I’m stretching her out. I can feel it. I love it.

“- SAUL!” she gasps, gripping my back. “It’s so fucking big!”

“- Shh.. I know you can take it. Scream if you need to baby, I don’t give a shit if we hear us.” i answer, moving in and out of her.

I pound into her fast and hard, making her moan each time I shove myself deep into her. She’s so damn hot. She feels so good. That’s it. I’m taking her with me. Her face becomes a mess as she cannot seem to catch her breath correctly. Between kisses, her mouth stays wide open, sometimes, she bites her lips, letting out small whimpers. I love it rough and she’ll love it too. I can tell she already does.

“- Saul… aahh.. that’s fucking good aaahh don’t stop.” she screams.

See? Told you. I give her one last hard pound and lift her up grabbing the back of her thighs. I’m still inside her, my cock hitting her deep every step I take. Her little whines are a melody I am more than happy to work on. She tries her best to hold onto me and makes my hat fall as she moves her arms around my neck. Whatever man, I have been wearing this hat since ages, her, it’s the first time. As I throw her on the couch my dick slips out of her, leaving me without her. What kind of fucking witch is she? Seconds out of her and my cock already misses her cunt.

“- Turn around.” i command, removing my shirt.

She smiles defiantly and executes herself. I waste no time and shove my dick back into her as I push as deep as I can. I keep her head buried in the couch as I mercilessly pound into her. I hear her whimper in pleasure. My mouth next to her ear, laughing, biting it slightly.

“- This is what you fucking get when you’re being a bitch.” i whisper in her ear.

I continue my rough pounding leaving trails of kisses all along her back. I know I’m about to come, how can I not when I’m banging her? Trust me though, I’m far from being finished with her.

“- AAH SAUL! I’M COMING! PLEASE! COME IN ME! FUCKING DO!” i hear her scream, muffled on the couch.

Just what I fucking needed. Hell yeah I will my love.

Not long after I come into her pussy still pounding as I feel her legs shake and her cunt getting tighter. She fucking came all over my cock. Just like I said I wanted her to. I grab her by the hair and bring her to my chest. She turns her head to me. She’s a mess with her hair all over her face, sticking with her sweat. Out of breath and panting for air. So beautiful. So fucking beautiful, as usual. I give her a wet sloppy kiss, removing the hair out of her face.

“- Good girl.” i tease into her ear.

I put her back on my side and lift her up again to sit her on the table. I still need her. I’m hard again like a fucking horny teenager. She makes me into this sex depraved slave succubuses love so much. She can take my soul for the record, I don’t give a shit. She can be the devil, a witch or an alien. To me, she's first and for all the woman I want, the one I desire and I want to be with. Bitch, witch, baby. Something like that. And in her eyes, I’m probably just the fucking dumbass who dared touching her. That’s okay. I’m cool with it. If she always looks at me the way she does now, I’m cool with it.

Sucking on her tits, I shove myself into her again, immediately pounding her hard. Her legs shake uncontrollably so I lock them up around my waist. She lies down on the table playing with her tits, moaning and biting her lips.

“- Oh my god that’s so good. Aaahh… Continue.” she cries.

Putting my hand around her neck I bring her back to my chest. Her back arches frantically at every movement I do inside her. So that’s why she was lying down. I slow down and move little by little inside of her to see how she moves her ass and back around on the table.

“- FUCKING STOP THE TEASING ASSHOLE… AAAH” she whimpers.

She puts her arms behind my neck and lets her nails sink into my back. With her head buried in the crook of my neck I laugh and go back to my hard pace. Hearing her little cries makes me the happiest man on earth. I hold her with one hand on her back and the other in the back of her head. At this instant, it’s like she is all mine. Like she could break if I let her go.

“- There babygirl, take it all, like the good slut you are. I know you love it, don't hold back.” i kiss her forehead before leaving her head to fall back in my neck.

“- AAH FUCK YES THAT’S GOOD! I’M SO FF-UUL IT’S SO B-BIG!” she whimpers.

Her fucking voice drives me crazy. She bites and teases my neck violently as a way to show me she is still holding on. I’m sure my back is all scratched and marked by now, but i’ll let her take everything off of me if it means I can get to fuck her brains out like right now. I groan, knowing I'm almost there, when I feel her legs squeeze around my waist and her back arch I know she’s also about to come again. I embrace her tightly as I screw her as fast and deep as I can.

“- AH…MHH… HAA… HM… SAUL… YES! YES! YES!” she comes screaming my name.

I come in her again. She stays like that for a few minutes. Panting, all naked into my arms. I hear her broken voice laugh slightly.

“- So that was it… all this teasing.” she laughs again.

“- You have no idea how much I wanted to fuck your brains out, teasing me back like that was not a good idea.” i answer.

“- Oh it definitely was a good idea. And I’ll do it again.”

“- No need to. I’m not letting you go. You’re mine now.”

She moves around to be able to look at me in the eyes. Her arms still wrapped around my neck and her cheeks still all flustered.

“- I am?” she smirks.

This smirk could make me fuck her again right now. Yes she is. I have been tortured by her presence for the past few months, now that she’s here I'm not letting her go. I move around to get a cloth to clean her up with. When I go back to her I catch her shy smile as she turns her head on the side.

“- Okay.” she almost whispers, smiling slightly.

I can’t resist taking her chin to turn her head to me to kiss her deeply. There was a chance it was a pure unique act of lust for her. A chance she’d left and say “never again”. A chance I’d taste her pussy only once with my cock, trying to forget how much I want to eat her out. A chance she’d realize I was older than her and she’d get away from me. Looking at the clock on the wall I realize it’s time for the show. What a great fucking day. Fucking the chick I’ve been thinking off non stop since months, playing on stage and then get back to fucking her. The two things I love the most. After the show, I’ll steal her away and get her back with me. What the fuck is the manager gonna tell me anyway? They don’t need her as much as I do.

“- Show’s gonna start baby. Let’s get the job done.” i wink, my hands resting on her waist.

I take my shirt and put it on her. God she looks so hot in my shirt. She should only wear that. She gives me a doubtful stare.

“- It’s okay, I’m hot anyway.” i smile.

Her gaze is playful as she goes down on her knees. She licks her lips and grabs my penis in her hand. She kisses slowly the tip of my cock. I take a deep breath and her smile goes feeble.

“- See you later big boy.” she brightens up again.

Bitch.

There she puts it back in my pants to only leave me my belt to put back on. Bitch. She’s lucky I can hide my bulge behind my guitar, she’s lucky we don’t have time. On the floor, I see her grab her thong that she slides into my pocket.

“- Eye for an eye.” she teases.

This isn’t fair. I give her my shirt, she gives me a piece of art. Putting her pants back on, I light her cigarette again and put it in her mouth.

“- Always finish what you started.” i say, getting her hair out of her face.

“- Whatever.” she rolls her eyes. “Go do your job.” she stops. “Play as good as you always do.” she smiles, cupping my face in her hands.

“- Coldness with a tinge of consideration, exactly what I love.” i kiss her neck, before letting her slip away to get out.

I hear her laugh evaporate as she disappears in the hallway. I know she’s playing around, she stays composed like her legs weren’t still shaking seconds from now. How fucking cool she is.

The show went great. When I get back backstage I see her there, cheering the end of this awesome show. She put on a leather jacket. After the show, we generally answer interviews and talk with some fans to end up having a little party all together. Not as wild as in my 20s, but still not very well-behaved. Tonight, I don’t give a shit, I have other businesses to attend. I greet the guys and let them know I’m going.

“- Where you going man, something to do?” Duff asks me.

I arrive in front of y/n and lift her up over my shoulder. She gasps and laughs.

“- Yeah man, something urgent! Might take me a long time, might kill me. Just in case, y’all can start looking for a new lead!”

“- Dumbass.” i hear her answer, which makes me laugh.

I fucking love her bitchy tone.

I admit. She won.

y/n pov

Here I am, being carried around like a sack of potatoes by the man I thought I could never have. I had the best sex of my life and something tells me I’m about to get it again. If I knew, I would have teased him back a long time ago. He said I was his.

In truth, he’s mine.

iii];)’ .・• ✰ ⋆

“Face of an angel with the love of a witch”.

A/N : i wrote that when i was horny as hell, clearly came from my delusions, i love the idea of slash having this feral internal dialogue because he just wants you so bad! enjoy loves <33 (slash if you read this i’m ready for your love ;))

[theagstd]

One Night Stand ; 06

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ Chapter Six ; wc | 4.1 k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

"Fuck," you cursed as you threw up into the toilet, clutching your stomach in agony. The excruciating pain made it even worse. you assumed it was the croissant, but how? You've been eating one every day for breakfast for over a month. Suddenly, the restroom door burst open, and in walked Jeon Jungkook. 

He briskly checked each stall until he found you. "Ms. Lee," he said with concern, surprised to see you in this state. "What are you doing here?" you managed to ask, wondering if he had any ulterior motive. Was he really here to help? But then again, why would CEO Jeon Jungkook lend a hand? Despite your skepticism, he seemed genuinely concerned. "Mr. Jeon," you acknowledged, but before you could say more, he cut in.

"I've got something to tell you," he said. You couldn't care less about his news. He was standing in the women's restroom, watching you vomit and look miserable, he couldn't find himself doing nothing when you certainly look like you're in pain, so attempts to help you out but then stops, considering your distaste towards him, he'd rather not lend a hand and just stand beside you for, emotional support, although he just wants to get back to his meeting after informing you about his greatest discovery.

"Fuck," you muttered, standing up from the ground and cleaning the stall before heading to the sink to wash your mouth and clean your face. you're grateful for the high maintained washrooms, it made throwing up easier and a lot less messy. You rinsed your mouth several times, but the aftertaste lingered stubbornly on the tip of your tongue. Your makeup had washed off, leaving you with a pale, sour face. 

You wiped your mouth with the back of your sleeve and turned around to meet the eyes of a curious man who stood behind you with his hands inside the pockets of his linen pants. "Why are you still here, Mr. Jeon?" you asked, touching up the little matte lipstick that seemed to have left it's tint on your lips. Jungkook clicked his tongue,

 momentarily forgetting why he was still there. He walked to stand in front of you, leaning against the counter of the women's washroom, he was relieved no staff member had walked in to misunderstand the situation the both of you were in. "I've got important news to tell you," he began. "It can wait," you interrupted as he separated his lips to voice out the whole issue.

"No, it can't," he insisted with a serious expression that indicated something significant. But what could be so important that he had to tell you immediately? and in the women's washroom? You had a strong intuition that he might fire you, and frankly, it seemed justified. Considering the numerous meetings you'd disrupted, causing inconvenience not only for yourself but also for other staff members, it was understandable. "Just tell me you're going to fire me," you said. "It makes sense—"

 "You're pregnant," he interrupted bluntly. He spoke without hesitation or emotion, his words though were a matter of fact. a blank expression sits on your face hearing his words. you think you didn't actually hear him right. the man realizes he had caught you off guard but he didn't really care. He wasn't the type to sugarcoat things or offer a 'congratulations.' You stared at him, disbelief and confusion mixing in your mind. How? When? Whose? Of course, he was joking. You chuckled, trying to laugh off the serious atmosphere he had created. "That's a nice joke, Mr. Jeon! You almost got me with that one," you said, covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. 

Jungkook sighed, looking frustrated. "This is not a joke, Ms. Lee. I've been informed," he said, his tone now carrying concern and sincerity. His gaze, darkened eyes and furrowed brows, distracted you from laughing. You stopped as your breathing quickened. "What do you mean?" you whispered. "Who told you and when?" "You passed out during the meeting. The nurse did a check-up and informed me," he explained. "That's not possible!" you whispered, utterly confused. 

There was no way you were pregnant. You hadn't had sex for almost two months and weren't in a relationship. Jungkook looked away, rubbing his forehead roughly. He was trying to make you understand the need for check-ups, but you weren't listening. You gripped the granite counter, trying to process his words. Pregnancy? And you? No way.

"This is not possible, Mr. Jeon!" you exclaimed, your laughter trailing behind your words. He glanced at you, alarmed by your behavior. Stepping closer, he furrowed his brows and stared at you intensely, clenching his jaw. "That is not my concern, Ms. Lee. You need to check it yourself." He muttered as you met his gaze, which brought back memories of that one night. No, no, don't think about it, y/n. 

Passing out and throwing up can't mean you're pregnant, right? "And how sure are you about the nurse's words—" Jungkook cut you off, frustration clear. He didn't care about you or your potential pregnancy. He was only concerned because you kept disrupting his meetings, jeopardizing his reputation, not because of the pregnancy itself. "Why can't you understand?" He moved even closer, reducing the distance to just a meter. The air grew thick with tension, and the proximity made you uneasy, reminding you of that night you hated recalling.

"I don't give a f- about it, Ms. Lee. Just go for a damn check-up and stop ruining my meetings! My reputation is at stake." His closeness allowed him to catch your lavender and vanilla scent, stirring memories of that night. But now, those memories annoyed him. Maybe he enjoyed them initially, but not anymore. 

Something about you irked him now. He could feel your breath quicken, and his harsh words scared you as you fiddled with the hem of your office skirt, in fact you were just trying hard not to yell back at him for his tone. He glanced down and then back at your eyes, deepening his frown. Neither of you liked standing this close. 

"You can take the day off," he mumbled bitterly before leaving the washroom. As he stepped out, an employee was about to enter. She bowed when she saw Jungkook but he didn't acknowledge her. The woman, 'Sana,' was stunned by what she just saw.

"Mr. Jeon in the ladies' washroom? How the he—" When she entered, she saw you standing frozen, barely blinking. "Ms. Lee, did I just see Mr. Je—" you stormed out, leaving Sana confused but curious. She grinned wickedly, smacking her lips as she washed her hands. "Mr. Jeon and Ms. Lee in the ladies' room? Now that's news!" she chuckled, eager to spread the gossip.

Meanwhile, you tried not to overthink. It seemed impossible for you to be pregnant, but the thought wouldn't leave you. Various scenarios ran through your mind, terrifying you. You didn't want to see anyone; you just wanted to run to the gynecologist and hear them confirm you weren't pregnant. That would be the only way to calm you down. You grabbed your things and hurried to the elevator. Rosè looked at you, puzzled by your abrupt departure. 

On the ground floor, Hoseok approached you with a wide smile, "Hey y—" but you didn't stop. Hoseok tried to follow, but Jimin held his arm. "She's got something to deal with, let her go," Jimin said softly. Hoseok turned to Jimin, surprised. Jimin himself was shocked, sensing something was wrong after Mr. Jeon had left the meeting room to follow you, an unprecedented event.

Hoseok nodded at Jimin's words and walked to the cafeteria. He considered texting you to ask why you left but decided against intruding on your personal matters. He wasn't a close friend yet, and if you wanted to talk, you would have reached out.

Hoseok

Hey, I hope you're okay :)

You rush to the nearest hospital, not having the time to book an appointment with the best gynecologist. This is a simple doubt, and you need it cleared up immediately. Pregnancy is not an option for you right now. The thought of becoming a mother feels overwhelming and you are not ready for that responsibility. It's definitely not something you want for another 10 years.

Numerous thoughts race through your mind, and you desperately want them to disappear. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, fear gripping you tightly. "Good after—" "Is there a gynecologist available right now?" you interrupt the receptionist. "Have you booked an appointment, ma'am?" "No." "Let me check. Any specific doctor you need?" "Anyone is fine, but preferably female," you reply hastily. The receptionist notices your anxious demeanor, glancing between her computer screen and your face. "Dr. Kim So Hee is available.

Your appointment can be scheduled for 3:45. If that's okay? " You check your watch: it's 3:20. You have to wait for 25 minutes. "Alright," you agree. You sit for five minutes, but your anxiety only grows. The thought of having a child sends chills down your spine. You have so many plans—this can't be happening. "Shut the fuck up, y/n!" you whisper to yourself, trying to halt the intrusive thoughts. Time seems to crawl, each passing minute intensifying your panic, especially as you watch couples enter and leave the consultation rooms.

The waiting room feels unbearably sterile and cold, its white walls and the faint smell of antiseptic doing little to soothe your nerves. The ticking of the clock on the wall seems louder with each second, a constant reminder of the uncertainty looming over you. You clasp your hands together tightly, your knuckles turning white, as you try to steady your breathing. Each deep breath feels like a futile attempt to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

You glance around the room, your eyes darting from one anxious face to another. Couples holding hands, some whispering to each other, others sitting in tense silence, all waiting for their turn. You feel a pang of envy at their shared burden, a sharp contrast to your solitary wait. The sight of a young woman emerging from a consultation room with a relieved smile only heightens your sense of dread. Your mind races with a million thoughts—what if you are pregnant? How will it affect your future? Your career? Your dreams? Each question feels like a weight added to the already heavy burden of anxiety pressing down on you.

The thought of having to make life-altering decisions fills you with a sense of helplessness and fear. "Shut the fuck up, y/n!" you whisper to yourself again, a desperate attempt to silence the chaos in your mind. The harshness of your words barely masks the fear and uncertainty underlying them. You rub your temples, trying to push the intrusive thoughts away, but they persist, gnawing at your composure.

Time seems to stretch endlessly, every second feeling like an eternity. The door to the consultation room opens and closes repeatedly, but it never seems to be your turn. The anticipation and the wait compound your anxiety, making it harder to stay calm.

You sit alone, panicking and trying to calm your racing mind. The uncertainty of the situation and the weight of the potential consequences hang heavily over you, creating a suffocating atmosphere. You struggle to maintain a semblance of control, fighting against the rising tide of panic that threatens to overwhelm you. 

You immediately stood from your chair when the nurse called you after almost what seemed like a year. You walked inside the room, taking a seat when you've been gestured to. The woman looked at you with a beautiful smile on her face making the atmosphere feel comfortable especially since you're panicking a little extra.

"Ms. Lee Y/n?" the nurse calls after what seems like an eternity. You quickly rise from your chair and follow her into the room, where a kind-looking woman motions for you to sit. Her warm smile eases the atmosphere slightly, though your nerves are still on edge. "How have you been?" the doctor asks. You want to say you're terrified, but instead, you respond politely. "What's the matter?" she continues. "I'm not sure what to say, but I've been told I'm pregnant, which doesn't seem possible." She looks puzzled, not quite grasping your rambling explanation, but she quickly notices your nervousness. She exhales, attempting to make eye contact, though you keep averting your gaze.

"Why does someone think you're pregnant? Have you noticed any symptoms or anything unusual?" You swallow hard, recalling the times you felt different. "I-I passed out once and threw up today." "Those are significant symptoms-" "Have you been feeling fatigued, or noticed any changes in appetite?" "Y-yes." She nods, jotting down the symptoms while you struggle to hold back tears. "Have you taken a pregnancy test?" "No." "that's okay, come with me."She guides you to the bed, lifts your shirt and skirt, and performs a pelvic exam, glancing at you a few times before nodding. You sit up and adjust your clothing, looking at her anxiously.

"What's wrong, doctor?" She nods, trying to find the right words as she notices your panic and emotion. "I think we should do a blood test. It appears you might be pregnant." Your heart sinks at her words. This isn't what you wanted to hear. The urge to throw up rises again. You blink back tears, trying to process the news. "B-but-" "When was your last period?" The doctor asks, and you frown, trying to remember. Oh no. You realize you haven't kept track and it's been a while since your last period. How could you forget? "I-I haven't had one for a while. But I didn't have sex! I'm not in a relationship." You speak quickly, not understanding how this happened.

The doctor now clearly sees something is wrong from your behavior. It's obvious you don't want this child. "When was the last time you had sex?" she asks gently, choosing her words carefully, staying calm while you are panicking and fighting back tears. Your chest tightens. "I don't rem-"

You froze in your seat, staring blankly at the wall. You clenched your fists so tightly that they left fresh marks on your palms. The room suddenly felt frigid, making you feel uneasy, dizzy, and on the verge of throwing up again. The thought of being pregnant filled you with dread—it would be the worst mistake of your life. "A-about 2 months," you whisper once you find your voice, and the doctor nods with a small smile.

"But this can't be," you insist. "We used condoms, it's definitely not possible. I'm sure we were safe." Flashbacks of that night flood your mind, and you blink rapidly to hold back tears. You had denied the possibility until you remembered the condom had broken. But how could you be pregnant? He's nothing to you, and this child would be nothing to you or anyone.

"It's surprisingly easy for women to get pregnant sometimes, with or without a condom," the doctor explains. "A broken condom makes it even more likely." She sighs, stands, and moves to sit beside you, placing a comforting hand on yours. She understood you, maybe not completely, as she had a husband and children, but she had seen many patients in similar situations. She squeezed your hand tightly. "Maybe you should take a pregnancy test for confirmation, but I strongly believe you are pregnant. Don't stress too much about this, take your time to think it over." You nod, then quickly ask, 

"Is there any way I could...get rid of it?" You feel ashamed for asking, but you need to know. "That would be an abortion, considering it's probably around two months. Before making any decisions, take your time to process it." You nod again, stand up, thank her, and rush out. You just want to get home as soon as possible. The tightness in your chest feels suffocating. Pregnancy. What is pregnancy? A new life, a completely different future. It wasn't part of your plan. Your five-year plan didn't include pregnancy—or even a boyfriend. How did that condom break? He's your boss now, and the seriousness of this situation is overwhelming.

Anxiety consumes you as you rush home with several pregnancy tests from the pharmacy. You've never been this impatient before, pacing back and forth, fingers crossed, hoping for a negative result. All you can think about is your career and your future plans, none of which involve a pregnancy. After a minute, you hesitate, not wanting to look but needing to know. You finally check the tests, praying, "P-please God-"

You squint before opening your eyes wide and dropping the stick. Two dark red lines. You grab the digital test—same result. Even the third test shows the same. You collapse to the floor in tears, curling into a ball. There's no one in Seoul to talk to, no one to lean on. Pregnant? At 23, with no boyfriend and no support? You cry for hours, unable to stop. Why did you have a one-night stand with him? That one night of pleasure has turned your life upside down.

Once you calm down, you take a warm shower, change into your pajamas, and lie on your bed, staring at the ceiling. So that's why you've been feeling off. You are pregnant. You turn to the side, hugging the avocado plushie your mother gave you years ago. Its softness and your warm tears make you miss your mom more than ever. You ponder and cry for so long that time slips away—it's already 8 pm.

You have no energy to cook, order takeout, or even walk to the convenience store. You feel nothing, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. You must inform Rosé that you need to take leave. There's no way you can face Jeon Jungkook. He knows about the pregnancy, a pregnancy that involves him. The thought disgusts you. You pick up your phone from the nightstand and check your texts.

Hoseok

hey? you good?

He surely sensed the tension when you just passed by him. You're not sure how long you could hold this secret inside you. You can't possibly tell this to anyone, not your family for sure, but also not your friends. You're left alone in this matter and it's for the better of it.

Y/n

hey hoseok, I'm perfectly fine! Just feeling a little sick,

will meet you soon.

You sent Rosè an informal text that you will be taking a leave and you also sent a short email to Mr Jeon. You threw your phone away and looked out the window, please let the night pass fast...

-

One day of leave turned into two, and then four. You couldn't bring yourself to get out of bed, so you kept extending your time off. After four days, you finally returned to work, not wanting to stay home any longer. Your place now felt uncomfortable, almost making you nauseous. During those days, you delved deep into pregnancy research. You had never done this before, baby fever was never a thing for you. The last time you looked up anything similar was almost a decade ago when you were 14 and curious about 'How do girls get pregnant?'

But now, things were serious. You found yourself Googling, "What should I do during pregnancy?" You counted the days, realizing that the next week would mark eight weeks—two months—since you conceived. How did two months fly by so quickly? How did you not notice your missed periods? How could you be so careless? Reading article after article on pregnancy terrified you. Is it too late to take any pills? You wondered, collapsing onto your couch and staring at the ceiling.

Isn't it too late? you asked yourself, but then your mind wandered to work, finances, career, and dreams. There's still so much you want to achieve. You sighed and closed your laptop. It was 5 am; you had woken up early to research for the umpteenth time. Deciding it was time to get back to work, you changed into your work clothes. Maybe returning to your routine would help distract you from this overwhelming situation. You desperately needed the distraction.

It's a relief that no one questioned you anything or was curious about your leave. Rosè did ask you if you were fine and you responded to her kindly, appreciating her warm words.

"Hey! Hey what's the matter?"

Hoseok approached your desk, leaning on it and looking at you with genuine concern in his eyes. It was comforting to know he cared. You gave him a soft smile, which he mirrored. You hadn't texted him since that night, and he was clearly worried. "I had an emergency situation, Hobi. I'm totally fine," you lied, and he nodded, understanding that you didn't want to go into details. "Did you have breakfast?" he asked. 

"I did, I woke up early and made myself avocado toast." "Mhmm," Hoseok moaned, imagining the taste. "Didn't bring any for me?" he teased. You gasped, feeling guilty for mentioning it when he hadn't had breakfast. "I'm so sorry-" "Chill, I was joking," he laughed, his joy infectious. After days of crying and dark thoughts, his presence lifted your spirits.

The day passed calmly, and the satisfaction from your job brought a sense of normalcy. This is why the idea of pregnancy was so frightening—you are career-focused, and motherhood wasn't in your plans. You were relieved not to encounter Park Jimin or Mr. Jeon, as seeing them would only complicate things. The past four days had confirmed your pregnancy despite your denial: blood tests, multiple pregnancy tests, research, and symptoms all pointed to the same conclusion.

Work was busy, with two engaging projects keeping you occupied and making time fly. Hoseok reminded you to pack up, offering to stay until you finished, but you insisted he leave. You needed to complete at least 80% before heading home, and working in the office provided a peaceful escape from your overwhelming thoughts.

"Ms. Lee?" you heard a man's voice. Turning, you saw Chun Seo at the door. "I'll leave soon, I promise," you said. It was his seventh time urging you to go home, but you continued working overtime. "Ms. Lee?" you heard again, this time with more insistence. You sighed deeply, thinking Chun Seo had returned.

"I said I'll leave once I'm done. How many more times will you tell me to pack up?" you replied, annoyed, typing faster. "Ms. Lee?" The voice didn't belong to Chun Seo. You looked up and saw Mr. Jeon. Shit. You'd been avoiding him all day. 'Stay calm, Y/n,' you thought, blinking rapidly. He stood at the doorway, casting a dark shadow in the dimly lit room. "Y-Yes, Mr. Jeon?" you mumbled. He walked in, and you immediately stood to bow before sitting back down to finish your work. "May I ask why you're still here?" he inquired, eyeing your unpacked desk. 

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer. You gulped and looked away from the screen. "I will leave as soon as I'm done, Mr. Jeon. I'm almost finished." "Who gave you permission to overwork?" he asked, tiredly. He was clearly exhausted from a long, rough day and frustrated by your disobedience. Normally, he wouldn't grant leaves easily, but knowing your situation, he had made an exception.

"I missed work and didn't want to delay the projects," you said softly, glancing at him to gauge his reaction. His face remained blank. "Work ends at 6pm. Follow the rules, pack up, and leave," he said exasperatedly. "Sure, I'm do-" "I said now," he interrupted, his tone sharp. You flinched, feeling anger rise. These were his projects, after all. You stood up, letting the chair screech loudly, which made Jungkook cringe. "Attitude in check, Ms. Lee," he warned. You rolled your eyes, hoping he didn't notice—but he did.

"Sure, Mr. Jeon." You couldn't believe this was the man you had slept with. This man was the father of the child you were carrying. Fuck him and his child. He stood up straight, dropping his office bag and putting both hands in his pockets. "I don't mind if you stay and overwork, but if anything goes wrong, I don't want my business held accountable. Employee safety is my priority," he stated.

You stopped packing and looked up at him, making eye contact for a few seconds. "All I wanted was a change of atmosphere, but I guess I can't have that," you muttered. He scoffed and looked around. "Take the company laptop to a cafe, but work ends at 6pm. It's now 8." "Okay, I've heard you. Can't believe you were that guy," you mumbled under your breath, packing your laptop and iPad into your bag. Unfortunately, he heard every word in the silent building.

"Blame yourself," he muttered, picking up his office bag, ready to leave. You gaped at his words, shocked by his ungratefulness. "How is he the father? Fuck my life," you whispered as you slung your bag over your shoulder. Jungkook stopped and turned around.

"Pardon?"

next chapter ⇢

[soft-pine]

woke up to these lovely DMs and while I'm of course not going to post this person's account, I am going to respond publicly. (cn discussion of SA)

okay so to preface this, you're somewhat correct. what we are doing - what we are all doing is an interpretive task. objectivity really doesn't exist - on my side or yours. and i'm not claiming it does. i have said and said again and said over again that i'm not trying to exclude or skew things. but sometimes i am simply not going to interpret a scene the way someone else does. and that's okay. please take your own notes! hell copy-paste mine and delete everything you don't like! add whatever you want!

that said, i made these notes with the intention for it to be useful to other people so if it seems like something is categorized wrong or not included, we can talk about it. i've said and said again and said over again that i am open to specific feedback. and where i have received specific feedback, i've made the small changes suggested!

but this is not specific. and honestly is virtually meaningless to me at this point. just because the notes don't sit right with your feelings about the show is not, in and of itself, proof i've missed anything. especially, especially because one of the reasons i made this document is because i saw frequent, unsubstantiated claims get circulated widely and i wanted more information to fall back on. so tell me what i've missed specifically or don't bother.

i'm sorry that you don't like that post. but honestly things can have some fucking layers. do both sam & dean make jokes to each other that make light of SA & demons, yes. are they both men who were raised in a misogynistic culture and have better and worse moments at treating each other and those around them with respect, yes. do i fucking hate meg and wish she would stop assaulting both of them, YES!

was i pointing out that there is a pattern of dean thinking about femininity and women and being embodied as a woman, yeah. it's not like i cannot engage with that comment in multiple ways. it's not like it's not in my notes.

but also like i don't go search up posts about sam's gender by people who are primarily interested in sam and say how their post is shitty to or diminishing of or not fully accounting for everything dean has experienced. that would be a waste of my time and theirs. i'm sorry i didn't talk enough about waffles in my post about pancakes but you're not in an ihop. you're in my kitchen right now. i make pancakes. we are eating pancakes.

but i take issue with again and again. point me to it. show me where dean does this again and again? like i am genuinely asking what am i missing. where is the repeated mocking? tell me what episode, what scene and i will add it to my notes and my understanding. heck! if you don't have that information, i'd take a gifset or a sam-centric meta post and put the puzzle pieces together myself.

i don't know what to tell you. these notes were compiled over the course of over a year and two full supernatural rewatches plus some. i am currently rewatching supernatural. i am never not watching supernatural. i am never not taking notes.

and i fully own my dean-centric POV. that's not gonna change. but that doesn't mean that as i was watching the show, side-by-side with the transcript page open, rewinding and double-checking and adding notes, that i was just leaving things out willy-nilly that didn't fit into my view. honestly, when i started these notes (primarily to record how sam & dean articulated their feelings about john), i didn't expect a lot of these categories to turn out this way. i don't need them to be like this to love dean and i was and am open to corrections that change these numbers. but you have to tell me what they are. and not just claim they simply must exist.

now on to this. honestly if you've been even an ounce as careful looking over my notes as i was making them, you'd find that a lot of the dialogue about possession being like SA comes from dean. that is not to say that i don't think that's how sam experienced it or that he can't feel it without saying it aloud or that fans can't interpret that that is how he is likely feeling.

but don't come here and tell me i need to consider this when i fucking marked down all the times in season 5 that dean compares the prospect of michael possessing him to rape. when i watched the scene in 14.03 when dean undresses the clothes michael dressed him in. when this is like one of the main themes of my main fic. like you don't know me. dont come on my blog and scroll down far enough to find a post you hate and then tell me you can somehow know all my thoughts on a topic that post wasn't even about.

i have never claimed that dean is being victimized by sam. if that's what you get from my notes that honestly says more about you than me.

and that's the real issue isn't it. i simply must be so biased but you all... all the people yelling at me that i've missed so much are, what... not engaged in an interpretive task with inherent imperfections and bias?

i am trying to be as honest, open, correctable, and sincere as i can about this but i don't have to skew my document until the numbers look right to you.

[fuzziemutt]

On the views of Rio in relation to Miguel within fandom

There's something I'm commonly seeing that has been worrying me which is the depictions of Rio "latina mom-ing" Miguel.

This includes Rio:

- slapping him

- coming at him with "the chancla"

- "dressing him down" verbally or yelling

- humiliating him

- straight up just... Beating him up

And I'm bringing this up because guys... This shit be low-key racist. I know racism towards latines has already been a problem (Yes. I am gesturing to the everything that is how Miguel is treated within the fandom), but I personally wanted to bring up this issue as well as I'm unsure if others have talked about it- and we all know how suck ass searching anything on this site is.

Anyways, I won't lie. I don't know how many latines are making these jokes, but it being so prevalent being her "main" interactions makes me feel even if it started as a latine joke, it sure as hell didn't stay that way.

But the depiction of Latina women as fierce, aggressive and (yes it is) straight up physically abusive (in general words) is a major fucking Problem. Latinas are often depicted in media as these "feisty exotic women" who takes no shit. Perpetuating that with Rio does not feel as #girl power as you guys might think. It feels like a step back in treating latinas not as these power houses but as... Y'know... People who aren't depicted as aggressors 24/7....

But also I really hate this cutesy look at what is a serious issue within latine communities. It's always "ha ha funny" seeing a Latina mom beating someone's ass but guys. That is still physical abuse. That is a serious issue and discussion that is held within the latine community. And seeing it so casually assigned to Rio kind of makes me feel sick.

And this isn't even tacking on that you're having a Latina beating/acting aggressive towards a canonical child abuse survivor (yes. Miguel is a child abuse survivor.) Which adds a whole new layer of how shitty this actually is.

Because I hate how people are boiling Rio down to just being an aggressor towards Miguel to "put him in his place". That's discrediting her character so badly.

Yes, latinas can be strong. Yes, latinas can be angry. Yes, latinas can get aggressive.

These are things people are and do because people are complex.

But I really need the fandom to stop for a second and really think about how they saw Rio, witnessed her give her heart on the screen, - a mom who's trying so hard to break these cycles of yelling and humiliation with kindness and understanding (even being a foil to Jeff's strong headed approach on purpose) -

took her and said "she would perpetuate a real cycle of abuse towards a fellow latino because he's the 'bad one'" and laughed.

I know you guys are depicting her like this as a means to defend Miles, but maybe not like this. Her character doesn't deserve being so bastardized like this for your stolen joke.

(which this whole "need" to defend him in the first place points right back to the racism towards Miguel if we're honest. I have complex thoughts on Miguel's interactions with Miles especially involving the end train scene but boiling a traumatized Latino man down to just being an "aggressive threat" that needs to be "put in place" as I've mentioned above is racist as hell too.)

You guys can reblog this, but don't fucking guilt trip people into reblogging this okay? I'm not giving you brownie points for that shit.

[ultfreakme]

Thoughts on Jessie Gender's video on NATLA

I really admire Jessie Gender's videos usually, she's the one whom I usually go to to see videos on gender and queerness in media. I like her stuff a lot and respect their work.

But the NATLA video left me going "no, wait, that's not what happened" a lot. I can't summarize the video, I suggest people go watch it if they want to know but I disagree with practically everything for the most part.

I'm not anybody on the internet. But what I do have is a lifetime of growing up on ATLA, a degree in Sociology and English Literature, coming from a culture that ATLA is based on, studying about colonial rule, researching the cultures ATLA is based on in my spare time and a love for the original. Does that establish some legitimacy? If for some reason you feel like you need to go hate on Jessie for this, DON'T. DO NOT. This is me just critiquing because I think the video content was biased and I want to honestly engage with the points made because everyone has a tendency to demonize the adaption without looking at it on its own merit. With that said:

Point 1: Sokka's sexism is taken out to make the show more palatable and his arc in the Kyoshi Island episode undermines Suki to prop up Sokka.

She says that Sokka's sexism and him addressing it is a show-long arc, and him deconstructing that is him fighting against the colonial sexism of the Fire Nation.

Sokka's sexism is explicitly dealt with in one episode. He's shown to be overtly sexist in the first 4 and never again except for little comments here and there that every other character makes as well and goes unaddressed. His sexism is not because of the Fire Nation- FN is very inclusive of women as warriors. Sokka's sexism is an anomaly because no one but him cares that Katara isn't just sitting home mending clothes(Bato, Hakoda, none of the men on the ship they are on in S3 say a word and she takes off to join Aang in the Fire Nation islands).

If Sokka's sexism is not systematic to the Southern Water Tribe or caused by the Fire Nation, what kind of commentary on sexism is this?

She also says Suki is played down and demured to give Sokka confidence when she's teaching him, taking away her arc as she pines for the new boy who she likes because he's shirtless. Sokka's throughout the episode shows insecurity and a more subtle form of sexism where he's trying ton prove he's as good as her. He's trying to show off his strength to her, and failing miserably and when he realizes she bested him, he walks away. He goes into it assuming he's better than her but walks away realizing shit she is GOOD. Then he goes to her dojo to observe the practice and follows along, Suki invites him in seeing him fucking up the forms outside and teaches him.

Suki falls for a tackle Sokka does in the og and live action. In the OG, it's shown as Sokka ACTUALLY being better. In the live action? He isn't. One lesson doesn't make him better, she transitions from actually teaching him to kinda flirting until she completely stops. She's not weakening herself for him, both of them are expressing romantic interest. How did Sokka, a boy who that morning was defeated by them, get better than SUKI in a spar she put genuine effort in? I think that's frankly more sexist than the live action take.

Additionally, Suki was meant to be a one-off character meant to teach Sokka that sexism is bad. She existed entirely to serve Sokka's character arc and had no independent motivation in season 1. In the live action, we see her talk about wanting to go into the world, and see her growing motivation through Aang's presence of wanting to not just protect Kyoshi Island, but the world. She became what she is only in season 2 and 3. Sokka's sexism arc didn't even pan out well because he never addressed the issue with Katara after that episode, the first and most affected victim of his sexism.

Sokka wearing the armor in the original, is a joke. Aang calls their uniform a dress while laughing (it's not, like it's not even constructed like one, the bottoms are loose pants called Hakama). He isn't put into the uniform to show solidarity, it's a joke, and we are meant to be laughing at Sokka for the most part. Queer fans have reclaimed and redefined that scene to be like drag, but that wasn't the original intention of the show because we get jokes on Aang's masculinity which never actively get refuted from Toph in season 2. Katara of all people points out Sokka wearing a poinytail in a demeaning manner multiple times, a supposedly girly hairstyle. If the original wanted to honor Sokka embracing gender fluidity, they wouldn't consistently mock him for being choosy about buying a bag and wearing a ponytail(which in-universe has cultural importance to him).

All signs of 'femininity' in Sokka are played for laughs in the rest of the show(down to the scene where he draws a rainbow, and his master Piandao simply rolls his eyes).

Sokka is also never once shown as a better warrior in the live action- his story is the opposite. Sokka yearns here to be an engineer, a scientist tinkering away with new inventions. His father Hakoda and the SWT discourages this because there is no value in that for them. Value is shown for them to come from physical strength, which Sokka NEVER has in live action season 1(him having biceps and being shirtless is not a glorification of strength). He's good, but he's nothing special. His true highlight is in his intellect and the show implies pretty well that Sokka doesn't need to be physically strong or a warrior to fight back against oppression.

That's his defining line in the show teasers "you do not need to be a warrior, to be a hero."

Point 2: The sexism arc isn't replaced by anything more nuanced.

It is! It's replaced by the biases against bending. Sokka discourages Katara from bending because the Fire Nation attacked the SWT to eliminate waterbenders. Both Katara and Sokka hold fear for waterbending, a part of their own culture, specifically because of the Fire Nation's hegemony and hierarchical beliefs. Waterbending = preservation of culture and Katara says these exact words in episode 1. Sokka stopping her is him being under the colonial hegemony of the FN because waterbending is what brought Fire Nation soldiers to their shores to kill their mom. That's the new arc and it has follow through to the end. Instead of Sokka telling Katara to kick ass because he isn't sexist anymore, the live action Sokka says it because he's embraced waterbending and his own culture now through seeing Katara grow and letting her choose for herself what's best for her (instead of smothering in his faux warrior persona, which they literally discuss when stuck in the cave). This arc is exclusive to the show, there's no comment on the cultural significance and erasure of waterbending in the original.

It's made more explicit in Katara's arc, where she needs to get past the fear the Fire Nation has put in her of the dangers of her own bending, and embrace that her people wanted to protect it (Kya sacrificing herself, Gran-Gran hiding the waterbending scroll).

Point 3: Showing the genocide of the Air Nomads is disrespectful

In the original, the Air Nomads are nothing but a memory. At all times. We never see the influence of the Air Nomad culture on Aang, or see them alive and thriving at any point. We see them fight back on the live action, and the actual genocide is a few short minutes, interspersed with Aang sinking. It's not a lingering process and it shows the abilities of Air Nomads. Jessie says this is purely aesthetic and to be cool, but there are significant moments that happen here.

Establishing the powers of Air Benders- this is the first and last time we'll get to see Air Bending on this scale and this shows what they can do

There's a scene where two air nomads nod to one another, and the air nomad switches from defensive to an extremely offensive move. It shows that this isn't typical for the Air Nomads, and that they are being pushed to their limits

This is a festival, they were defending themselves and it's important to show that the Air Nomads didn't just go silently without a fight and were ambushed on an important day.

To show the Fire Nation's cruelty and the extent of their power during the comet specifically.

To give weight to WHY everyone Aang runs into is so critical and hateful of the fact that he was gone, and to also show why Aang never refutes them and the weight of what he's lost (and also that even if he were there, he couldn't have done anything)

It's not just to be cool, it's honestly not cool to watch and taking Gordon Cormier, a child's quote to say that's what everyone's impression is, is disingenuous despite the disclaimer given. The kids' quotes always get taken out of context. Reviewers and Avatar fans who went to the premiere were disturbed overall by the violence. They did not think of the Fire Nation as "cool", they saw the Air Nomads like that. Like don't we want people to think of the Air Nomads in a positive light for fighting back?

Their culture gets little to no expansion in the original, and whatever Aang has left of them is actually slowly stripped away in the original.

Aang is made to okay the destruction and modification of the Northern Air Temple when destruction is shown as wrong during his rage and grief in the Southern Air Temple. The new settlers have used the gliders of Air Nomads to device weapons that fly, which were then sold to the Fire Nation. The Mechanist and his people continue this and create more weapons to fight the war in the temples(albeit this time agaisnt the fire nation but the cycle of violence continues using devices and cultures of a peaceful people). A once-peaceful place, is now a center for war innovation and Aang is told to accept this because he must let go of the past to look to the future.

The above, in comparison to Aang simply saying "I should let go of the past and look to the future" is FAR more disrespectful of Aang's culture and past. The live action keeps Gyatso's memory a constant companion to Aang, he is terrified of letting go of the past and it hinders him from simply living.

Point 4: Violence is shown as good and the cycle of violence is perpetuated.

She says Kyoshi demanding Aang to fight back and hit hard is showing that Aang needs to embrace strength and power. That everyone telling him to fight and be alone means strength is given importance, and that the same is shown when Zuko says "sometimes the weak can become strong, sometime you just have to give them a chance."

Kyoshi is wrong. She is willfully portrayed as powerful, but harsh. Roku(though his screentime was small) disagrees with her and tells Aang to find his own way of fighting and that is ultimately what Aang follows.

Kyoshi doesn't come off as correct, she's demanding and harsh, unforgiving. Aang initially lets her take over because he is scared of the power he holds and she promises she can control it to help others. Aang doesn't want power(he literally says 'I don't want these powers'). In the finale, he gives in to the ocean spirit and does what Kyoshi asks; save everyone, even if it costs his own life. But it is shown as a tragedy. Katara calls back for him and tells him he shouldn't have to sacrifice himself, that he has a place in this world as he is no matter what others tell him and he listens to THAT. He says he will save the world not alone, but with his friends, in the memory of the Air Nomads to ensure it never happens again.

Physical strength is only a priority to Katara's character. Sokka doesn't fight in the end, he's begging Yue to not sacrifice herself and is protecting her. He's not some macho man. Aang is also not embracing power.

Zuko says that line not to show that he can grow stronger, but that people should get second chances. He's a hurt kid wishing his father had the compassion to let him grow. But he doesn't and Zuko walks away from it thinking physical strength and bending prowess is important, crushing his compassion. That line on a meta level isn't even about physical strength. It's about mental fortitude and character, and the strength to be compassionate.

Jet was mentioned as being portrayed as more wrong, but in the original he was ready to sink a village of innocents. in the live action he genuinely helped Katara with her waterbending and was justified in wanting to kill the mechanist(who collaborated with the fire nation) and King Bumi (who is neutral, incompetent and has let the Fire Nation run rampant in the city). He's more sympathetic here because he's doing it with a concrete reason, and he didn't even manipulate Katara the way he did in the original. She was genuinely charmed by him.

A big problem I had with Jessie's video was putting in clips from some right-wing channel between critique of NATLA....which....why? Huh? And these were used to say NATLA is leaning into fascist tendencies and smoothing out any critique of colonialism when it really isn't. I think NATLA is very explicitly saying the same message as the original. Not in the same way, but it is. The show actively engages audiences and the characters in discussions of cultural erasure and the problems of valuing power(the latter especially through Zuko and Azula).

There are million issues with the live action (Sokka's casting, ableism in Zuko's burn scar, the writing issues, pacing issues, the lack of screen time for Aang and focus on the Fire family). The ones Jessie Gender discussed though, are not it.

[sickness-stricken]

I was originally just gonna reply to someone else’s post with this but it got kinda long and I feel like it’s worth being its own thing, so:

(CW for potentially triggering talk of MMIW [missing/murdered indigenous women] under the cut)

The fact that Lily claims to be indigenous while writing off “paying attention to me” as “stalking me” is honestly such a slap in the face to MMIW. My indigenous friends have had their family members stalked. People I’ve known on the rez near my hometown were stalked. My friend’s grandmother was left notes by her stalker professing his love of her beautiful long hair and tan skin and was only stopped because her nephew was a cop that told him to fuck off. When it comes to indigenous women there’s an additional layer of fetishism that walks in tandem with it, so to have Lily constantly make jokes about how her “””stalkers””” want to “fuck her so bad it makes them look stupid” is fucking disgusting and she should know better if she’s claiming Cherokee heritage.

I think that’s the secondary reason people take issue with her claims to heritage. Any time she brings up being Native outside of using it to avoid criticism, it’s almost always in a sexual or romanticized connotation: she’s flashing her tits with a fake “Indian” necklace. When she got Mikaila to start drawing her with skin tight clothes and mommy milkers was when she decided to add the feather earrings to the design. She clings onto the shitty dollar store dream catcher the mom she supposedly hates gave her and apparently never once thought “hmm, maybe I should buy one from a powwow booth or buy one from a museum where the funds go to nearby reservations.” Even her new puppet, which is styled after Yahtzee13 who uses arguably the least sexed up design philosophy in history, STILL manages to have an hourglass figure and the earrings. When she reviewed Pocahontas she made absolutely NO reference to the fact that the character herself is an aged up and sexualized version of the real life Matoaka who was abducted, raped and enslaved as a child and instead opted for “okay the movie is bad but it’s funny!!! Colonizers bad!!!” and just left it at that.

It’s obviously not a crime to be comfortable and sexy in your own skin while being indigenous (I might be a sex repulsed asexual and part Chawathil and even I know that) but to have THIS much of a sexed up view of yourself while having no respect for the history of fetishization in the culture you claim to have is just… fuckin yikes tbh

[lover-of-mine]

I have realized what is making my head explode when a BT post accidentally goes through my tags!!!! They are completely ignoring Buck is bi. They are acting like my aunt in the early 2000s. I may not have been fond of all the LUs but they were valid relationships. If Taylor had not fucked up who knows where that relationship would have gone. I mean clearly nowhere once Eddie was out because once Eddie broke up with him he spiraled and kissed Lucy. But they are still valid relationships and at this point in time I don't see how Tommy is better than any of them. To be honest he has the worst traits of Abby and Taylor but the screen time of Ally. So frustrating.

Well, when have people ever been normal about bisexuality? But here's the thing, every relationship Buck had so far had his own set of issues that somehow have been reduced to the way he was dating women, which is fucked in so many ways and the amount of times I have to stop myself from picking a fight because of bucktaylor it's actually hysterical to me because we're seriously at a point where I need to defend the validity of Taylor's place in Buck's life. Like, how did we get here? Because here's the thing, do I think Buck and Taylor were meant to be? No. Do I think Buck would've clung to her until he literally couldn't anymore if her actions hadn't hurt his family? Absolutely. I see Buck going as far as panic proposing to her if that particular situation hadn't happened, just to have someone. Because they had chemistry and Buck kept trying to force that to become love. Taylor was wrong for Buck for a multitude of reasons, but none of those reasons were because she's a woman and Buck is gay. And the relationship with Tommy is not gonna magically last forever just because Tommy is a man. Tommy is this weird amalgamation of all of Buck's love interests with Ali/Ana levels of screentime and he doesn't magically have a fighting chance just because he has a dick and people can't seem to see this. And I think that's crazy. Because Tommy was given to us in an episode that had the theme of not recognizing people, while actively making us think it was about someone else and then they did the Kim storyline and I want to scream because people can't see the parallels. And the more I look at it the more insane I get because he's all of Buck's love interests smashed into someone who's Eddie two steps to the left with none of the things we love about him. But somehow he's perfect because he's not a woman. The only thing Tommy has going for him is not being a woman. You turn him into one and none of the things he did would fly. Letting Buck get away with physically hurting Eddie? Leaving him in the curb? Not dressing up? Making a kink joke after someone Buck loves almost died? Picture those scenes with Lucy and tell me anyone in the fandom would be shipping them. Let alone fighting for them the way people are right now. But he's a man so he gets a pass and that's so fucking weird. Evan Buckley is bisexual but getting dicked down isn't going to magically make everything perfect. Jesus.

Also, since you mentioned Eddie coming out, something that I've been thinking about since we found out it was supposed to be Eddie, a Buck who thinks he's straight finding out Eddie has a boyfriend would shortcircuit. I legit think they could not find a way to write Buck's reaction to Eddie being queer that didn't end with him figuring his feelings out so they switched things up, so Buck would for sure would've gotten there once Eddie got there because he would've had big feelings about it and Buck is not the repressed one.

[violinn]

i’m so fucking tired of all this complaining about the mean girls movie musical.

1) it’s the musical, not the original movie, so if you havent seen the musical before, things are going to be fucking different because ITS NOT THE MOVIE !!!!!! they dress different, they act diff, they talk diff, even the dynamics are a little diff.

2) people need to stop acting like the decision to make regina gay is the most angering, out-of-pocket thing in the world, because it fucking isn’t. people are acting like it’s the most absurd decision ever, and it isn’t. if you’re really that fucking upset over it, then the movie was obviously not fucking made FOR YOU. nobody is forcing you to watch it. (and i’m sure renee rapp would not want the $0.001 she makes off of your view)

istg, all i see everyday is all of these identical looking twinks complaining about how out of pocket it is, and how it doesn’t make any sense. if it was the opposite, nobody would be complaining. if aaron was gay, everyone would think it’s so cool. if there was a remake of like any other movie and they made a man gay, tik tok and everyone else would be so excited, praising it for its ingenious and its creativeness. but as soon as it’s a lesbian, people flip out. gay men have no issue iconizing all these women, until they’re lesbian.

so, here is me directly addressing some of these points that these people are making:

“it came out of nowhere” - did it really? literally the main conflict between the two sides in the movie is because regina told everyone that janis was a lesbian, and janis was like extremely hurt about it, even how many years later. it would make sense that the falling out had something to do with regina having feelings for her, or something along those lines

“regina was into aaron” - did you even watch the movie? like honestly, seriously, did you? she isn’t even into him. even if she dated him, it’s like one of the most common things for lgbtq people to have dated the opposite sex, even if they aren’t attracted to them, either for appearance, or simply not yet knowing, and this is like the most prevalent in teenagers. regina, in all honesty, did not seem all too into aaron when you look back on it. she used him quite literally as a pawn in front of cady’s face. she sat there in the one scene and purposefully used the fact that they were dating to aggravate cady. also, why are we acting like it isn’t a thing to be bisexual? she could literally just be bisexual. (just saying, y’all never seem to deny comphet when it’s a man 🙄)

“there’s no way an entire school was bullied by a lesbian” - WHAT? i’m sorry but what. i don’t even know what point this person was trying to make, but even so, they completely missed. aside from all of the things i could pick apart about this statement, i thought it was like a running joke that usually the popular bully in high school, usually turns out to be closeted (male or female). like not even saying that this is true, but this is like a popular generalization and joke, so this point doesn’t even make sense.

finally, reneé literally said she isn’t explicitly gay. she said it was just her vibes. people are getting this mad over a character who is just the slightest bit hinted about being a lesbian.

just leave it the fuck alone. let gay girls be happy over the slightest chance at representation, because we all know that gay men get almost all of it.

thank you

- a girl who likes girls and reneé rapp, who just wants a little bit of representation in something popular.

[yuyu1024]

Midnight rain

Pairings: S.coups × y/n

Genre/tags: idol dating, confession, hidden feelings

Warning: insecurity, unsureness, relationship issue, cursing, [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 0.7k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Check pinned post ♥️

*******

"What did you say?" You ask. "I didn't... I didn't hear you properly..." you stutter.

But that was a lie. You did hear him. You heard him loud and clear that each word echoed and still ringing in your ears

"I said... I'm going to ask Shanie to be my girlfriend... officially."

That fucking hurts. You wanted to scream and walk away. You wanted to ask him why. You wanted him to say that it was all a joke.

But looking at his smile, his eyes it is true.

"Oh..." You force a smile and smacks his shoulder, "Congrats! Y-you.. finally have the courage to ask her... that's awesome!"

Then there was a moment of silent that stretched between the two of you. You tried to ignore it. You went on to look up to the sky and watch the fireworks fill up the night with beautiful colors. You kept your smile even though your hands are literally shaking. Your so good at hiding it.

Or that's what you thought.

"Y/n..."

"Hmm?"

"Are you really happy? I mean... me asking Shanie to be my girlfriend..."

"Ahm, of course! Why would I not be?"

"Stop it." He adjusted his position. He's facing you more. "Stop pretending... I'm not blind..."

"What are you talking about?" You were trying so hard to brush it off.

You can face it. You can't talk about it.

The feelings you and Seungcheol have for each other. The feelings that the both of you kept on pushing back, acting like it does not exist even though both of you feel the vibrations in your hearts.

"Cheolie..." you closed your eyes and took a deep breathe first. "Please..."

"Please what? I don't get it! I like you. You like me. But you keep on choosing to avoid it. Why? What's wrong with choosing me? What's wrong with... allowing yourself to love me?"

"You know, we can't be together." You look away. "It's complicated..."

"Is it because of my work? Being an idol? You know I don't care what the media says. You know I can handle it! My fans... they will understand it. If not everyone... or immidately but they will someday so... It's fine."

"But I do care." You sighed. "I can't handle it... people talking shit about you. Saying mean things... your career... I... it matters to me..."

"So... you're willing to sacrifice your own feelings... and mine for my career? You think thats more important than you?"

You try to calm yourself so you would not cry. You are in public and with his family. Yes, his family. You two have been friends for a while and his family have treated you like theirs. They invited you in this family outing because its been a while since Seungcheol had a break at work.

"Y/n... please..."

"I know how much your work means to you... your members... your fans... making music, singing and performing...is your life."

"But you are part of my life too!"

"Cheolie..." you stood up and about to walk away but he pulls you back down again.

"Why are you like this? You've always told me to follow my heart and dreams... and I did with music and now I'm following it for you . I am in love with you y/n."

"People will hear." You hiss at him. "Cheolie... please..."

"Do you want us to stay like this? As friends?"

You paused and looked at him. "Yes."

"You... really are okay with me to date other women?"

"No... but... it's safer for you..."

"What's the difference of me dating them to you dating me?"

"They are better than me. People would accept them..."

"What?" His brows furrowed. He can't believe what she's saying. Her insecurities. Because for him, she's perfect just the way she is. "Is my love not enough... to make you feel... loved... content... secure...?"

You started to tear up and sob. "No... And you don't deserve to be with someone who needs constant reaffirmation... someone who haven't started the process of loving herself..."

"But... Y/n... I love you... I fucking love you..."

"I know... I do to... but... I'm not the right person for you... you deserve someone better."