#is fucking futile. and misogynistic.

[cuntylittlesalmon]

i’m finding it really hard to take more media discourse seriously right now because a lot of it tends to be hinder by emotional fragility. the “if something make me feel this type of way (namely the escapist, or the horny) it is inherently above criticism, and any attempts to critique (even if said critique is coming from a place of endearment) is an attack on my morality” stuff.

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 25. messed up

chapter tags/warnings: naoya fucks toji's ex-wife again. aggressive sex. creampie-ing. misogynistic! naoya. hurt/comfort. naoya views women as nothing but a hole. broken marriage. heavy angst. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. manipulation undertones. corruption. 

word count: 4.1k

notes: thank you always for all the support! on to the plot for our final arc! this beginning excerpt is a rewording from a line in “spy x family” (any fans out there?) that i believe captures the dynamics in our characters as well. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

❝ Every person has a self that one conceals, a side not shown to anyone else. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family. Behind lies and painted smiles, individuals shield their true natures and desires…and, in doing so, the world thus maintains its thin veneer of peace. ❞

Who in the world was Toji Zenin?

The Toji that you had always known was Toji Fushiguro, so what was your husband’s cognomen doing besides your sex therapist’s first name on the latter's university diploma?

Even Google seemed to deny that Toji Zenin existed.

Showing results instead for ‘Toji Fushiguro.’

No, that was not what you wanted! 

One step forward in understanding this enigmatic man might as well be three steps backward because, each time you thought you had learned something about him, you only come to the realization that nothing much had been discovered at all.

But as investigations via search engines, social media sites, and Wikipedia pages proved futile, sources that could quell your curiosity dwindled.

So, you turned to your last resort.

“Who’s Toji Zenin?”

“What—”

Across from you, the raspberry macaron in Mai’s hand stopped by her lips as the girl snapped her focus from the pastry to your unanticipated question, with Maki visibly turning stiff in the adjacent chair. The three of you sat surrounding a small table in the twin’s private lounge, located in the northern wing within the Zenin residence. 

Visiting the central family property was not uncommon ever since your engagement and wedding earlier this year, but the architecture would never fail to impress you. The mansion itself resembled the Imperial Palace more than anything—an edificial centerpiece defined by the elegance and simplicity inherent in traditional Japanese design, with latticework embellishing the wooden exterior and, inside, carefully painted doors opening into tatami rooms.

Given that Mai and Maki were back in Tokyo for their summer breaks from universities abroad, the sisters established themselves as your close friends and had brought you into their tea room, adorned with European furnishings that would come off as atypical compared to the Japanese heirlooms elsewhere in the residence. On the table sat an imported tea set from England, at the center a French-inspired pastry tower prepared with caramel-topped croquembouches, chocolate-covered profiteroles, and the like. 

In great admiration, the sisters had been barraging you with inquiries about your life back in your bachelorette days, asking about your volunteering trip to the Philippines or the charity auctions in Dubai.

Now, with the shift in discussion, the sisters exchanged an uneasy look.

An entire conversation appeared to be held in the way they traded glances. The usual sparkle in their eyes faded, which must mean the girls were remarkably uncomfortable, but Mai forced a polite smile as she placed down her macaron. 

“Y/N,” she began carefully, “May we ask how you know Toji?”

Even though she tried to spin the question as casual curiosity, her apprehension could not be more obvious. 

“I don’t know him, really,” you lied. While dishonesty went against your morals, watching the twins’ shoulders fall with relief was enough to assuage the guilt. “He’s just…” My friend, to put things in the mildest terms. “He’s just a name I have heard. That’s all.”

Maki dabbed at her mouth with a lace handkerchief, not making a big deal as she added, “Toji’s a cousin.”

So, the Zenin last name on his diploma was not a coincidence at all. 

Such a groundbreaking discovery should have thrown you into a whole whirlwind but, to be frank, the realization did not come off as too surprising at all. If anything, Toji as a member of the Zenin family was the perfect explanation to why Toji seemed so astute, why he would talk like he knew more about Naoya than you, and—as Geto had once said—why Toji was ‘not where he could possibly be.’ 

While Toji’s reason for opting for the Fushiguro name remained a mystery, what you did know now was that he was indeed affiliated with the twins before you by blood, which—by extension—must mean that Toji would also be a cousin to…

…your husband. 

Wait.

An unsettling chill ran down your spine.

“Cousins, as in,” part of you didn’t want to know the answer, “distant cousins? Or…?”

“No,” the older twin interjected matter-of-factly, not knowing the full background behind your seemingly innocuous question. “First cousins.” 

Ah, so the closest type of cousins possible, which was exactly what you had hoped not to hear. With this additional information, you tried to hide the clamminess in your palms. What would be the best word to describe this void now? Did you feel disappointed? Misled? Betrayed? Toji certainly had known that you were wed to his younger cousin, yet he willingly chose to hide his background as he kissed you, touched you, and fucked you.

A reversal from your sentiments before, you currently felt both disgusted and hurt.

Why did Toji keep this information from you? What sick person derived satisfaction from having sex with his first cousin’s wife? You were so damn stupid for placing all your trust in him. Looking at the situation now, he was just another iteration of the same manipulative and disrespectful man you had been trying so hard to avoid. 

“Are you close with Toji?” 

Mai shook her head. “No. We don’t talk to him anymore.” Her comment struck as odd. Anymore? Had they once been, then? Before you could ask, her gaze darted around in caution before she leaned forward and said lowly, “For your information, Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.”

That’s quite recent. 

You understood that Mai and Maki had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped as they did not want to slander the family heir in front of his wife. Blissful ignorance was what the twins must be thinking, hoping to preserve the peace between you and your husband. However, what you had yet to reveal was the broken marriage that had been masked for everyone’s sake, disguised by a pretense that all was well.

Which was why, on that note, the timing could not have been more perfect as a tall young man with ombre hair and hazel eyes flung open the door in one unforgiving slam, rattling the fine china and startling the seated individuals inside.

“There you are, you whore!” 

Your eyes widened with shock upon seeing Naoya Zenin in the entryway, your husband’s scowl icy and malicious. He came stomping toward you as his eyes held a dangerous hostility that was impossible to ignore, and you could oddly sense an impending doom when he stormed with zero regard for anything in his path, kicking aside a potted plant and toppling over a ceramic vase.

Standing up, you tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mashed brain. 

Today was Tuesday.

Was he not supposed to be at work?

“Naoya,” you began calmly, cognizant of the onlooking sisters behind you, “this is not the right place to—”

“You’re such a fucking desperate bitch, aren’t you?” His words were sharp and bitter, his glare filled with hatred like a fire doused with gasoline. Before you could request clarification, he stopped steps away and swung his right hand up, pressing a black business card to your stunned face, the paper crinkled from his intense grip and rendering you petrified in your stance. 

No, this couldn’t be…

From your peripheral view, you watched Mai and Maki place their hands over their open mouths as they read Toji Fushiguro’s calligraphed name on the business card that also had in obvious words: 'sex therapist.' Shame racked your stomach. Merely minutes ago, you convinced the twins that Toji was to you nothing more than a name, and now, karma bit you back like a bitch. 

With your voice evaporated, you croaked.

“Where did you find that?” You had been sure that you placed the badge away.

Naoya used his anger to crumple the card and tossed the now useless paper ball to the side. “In your purse,” he gritted, “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”

The ensuing guilt suffocated you. “I—” I don’t know.

Sensing the weakness in your will, Naoya burst into a maniacal laughter that cracked through the air, creating a disconcerting symphony. He bent forward, shoulders convulsing with every diabolic and mirthful guffaw. 

“You’re so god fucking pathetic, woman. Do you have any idea who Toji Fushiguro is? That bastard is Toji Zenin, you ignorant slut—he is my cousin. Well, I guess I never told you about him, though, because he doesn’t fucking matter anymore anyway. I don’t know how you ended up crossing paths with him, but this is hilarious!” The man kept cackling and roaring like he had gone insane. “Were you two brewing shit about me? Actually, let me guess since you’d gotten hold of this business card: did you have sex with him? Did you have sex with Toji? Going around fucking your husband and then your husband’s cousin is nothing to be proud of. Tell me, did you meet the other sex therapists as well? Did you get stretched out by them, too? Whose dick did you like best? Whose? Whose? Is that what you like, being passed around and used like some sick trophy? What a fucking animal! How dare you disrespect our marriage. How dare you disrespect your own hus—”

Your hand lashed out before you could suppress the impulse and delivered one resounding slap across Naoya’s face. You watched him shut up and stumble backward, clutching his cheek. 

"Ow!"

For a moment, the world seemed frozen still: the sisters gaping in complete stupefaction, your husband staring at the ground wide-eyed, and you heaving from the incoming emotional onslaught.

”How dare you…How fucking dare you disrespect me!” The coalescence of anger, agony, and resentment—bottled up in your heart for months upon months—was now being released as you dissolved into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you say such messed up things? You are sick in the head, Naoya, you know that? Out of respect for myself, how could I possibly respect you?!” The only sound echoing in the room became your uncontrollable cries, sobs that escaped past your lips in raw and muffled bursts. Torn apart by sorrow, you could hardly breathe from how constricted your throat had become, your knees wobbling and weak. “Y-You have no idea how lonely and miserable I have been since I walked down that aisle. For the past six months, you—as my husband—have done absolutely nothing but make me feel like a rat in my own home, a mistress in my own marriage!” 

“Fantastic! Exactly what I wanted to hear, I am glad I have made your life horrible!” Naoya snarled, not caring for how everyone else’s eyes widened at the scathing statement. Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. Did your husband really just say that to your face? He could not give a shit that you wept pitifully, instead catching your shaky wrist in the tightest grasp possible as he added on, “My only regret is that I had not made your life even worse.” 

“What the fuck!” you heard Mai gasp as a gut reaction.

What the fucking fuck, indeed.

While you had been subject to Naoya’s verbal harassment during these many weeks, for him to tell you that he wished he had tortured you further was beyond heartless. The searing ache that burned your skin might as well be fatal because your respiration turned erratic like someone had trapped you inside a bubble.

Hyperventilating, you subsisted on shallow gasps.

“Don’t go around thinking that you’re any better, alright? You’re calling me pathetic for sleeping with your cousin, but have you considered that I had been placed in that position because, since the start, you’ve been cheating on your wife?” 

Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears from your lachrymose eyes. Now, Mai and Maki must truly be appalled at all these revelations. What happened to the fairy-tale marriage you had told them about? Well, that never existed to begin with, and with these thoughts in mind, you found a sadistic satisfaction in watching your lawful spouse fume with deep-seated rage. 

“That’s right,” you mused with derision, “we’ve been two sides of the same coin all along.”

Naoya clenched his hands at his sides, disgusted to have been compared to you. “Do not put me on the same level as—”

“No. No, you don't get to talk! All you have done since we have been married is for you to talk and complain and bitch about everything, but now, this is my turn,” you screamed in return. “I…I hate you!” and you pointed right at him, “In fact, I despise you. You never tried to see what I had to tolerate to stay with an asshole like yourself because you had been too busy sticking your dick into another woman while you could hardly look at me! No wonder your cousins worried about me. No wonder Toji told me to file for a divorce. Because you, Naoya Zenin, are a total piece of shit!”

His momentary pause hinted at the tiniest self-actualization that flickered within him. Perhaps he finally realized how you had been feeling now that you freely spat out all the turmoil that had been chaining your soul. He took one additional step toward you, torn between whether he should keep up with his anger or succumb to remorse for hurting you.

But, knowing this man, he—of course—opted for the former. 

“I never,” he seethed lowly, “wanted this marriage.” 

Maybe you truly have become deranged or maybe you genuinely found his statement funny, for you began to emit tearful cackles in your laughter.

“Now, that is one big fucking lie.” Since your earliest encounter, Toji had suggested that Naoya solely regarded you as nothing more than ‘a sweet, innocent fuck,’ and the longer you had stayed with your husband, the more you began to acknowledge how these accusations were all true. “We all know that you’re going to be nothing without me. A CEO who could hardly keep his wife for half a year? What a loser. What makes you believe that I wanted to be married to you? Who do you even think would want to do business with you after this? You never had respect in the real world because all that respect rests upon me.”

While you never fully understood Naoya, your words must have snapped a particular chord in him because he suddenly lunged forward.

“Fucking cunt—” 

But before he could get too close, you darted away from him. “Don’t touch me!” you shrieked, voice shrill from the top of your lungs. “Do not ever touch me again. If you want to lay your dirty hands on someone, go touch your girlfriend instead!”

That’s right, he had another woman who he doted on far more than he could appreciate you. This wedding band, this engagement ring on your left hand meant absolutely nothing. Toji had been spot on—why the hell did you cling onto stupid shit like this, twisting the jewelry as if that would save your messed-up union? Without further empathy, you slid off the two rings and hurled them toward your husband’s chest before the circlets clinked upon hitting the ground.

At first, Naoya scoffed. He watched the ludicrous scene with a comical gaze, and when his brain processed what he just saw, he quickly fell onto his knees. All at once, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle—a full-bodied cachinnation that took the room completely aback—as his hysteria mounted.

“Good, good, good!” His screeches were like those of a maniac, his chuckles haunting, throaty, and lacking in sanity. “I’m glad that you’ve come to show the witch that you have been all along! Look at yourself! No wonder no one wanted you!”

Unable to be a bystander any longer, Mai stood up and hurled toward her cousin. “Shut the hell up, Naoya!” 

But the said man was quick, using one powerful movement to punch the older twin first. “You shut the hell up, scum. Unless you want to be pummeled to the point where people will feel sorry to look in your direction.”

“Watch what you say!” and when Naoya turned to the new voice, the evil glint gleaming from his brown eyes appeared ablaze.

“Oh? Someone’s bold, too. Shall I bully you first then, Maki?” the timbre in his disdainful laugh crescendoed into unhinged amusement. “Say one more word, little girl,” he taunted, his imp-like face riddled with mockery. “C’mon. I dare you. I will throw you into the courtyard and beat your ugly face up. That’ll bring back warm memories from the good old days, huh?”

The younger twin gritted her teeth, her sister reaching for her arm as a signal to back down and stay levelheaded.

Meanwhile, once Naoya rose from the floor, he nonchalantly kicked at the rings because those emblems of your union had always been meaningless garbage anyway.

“If wanted to leave this badly, then fucking leave,” he deadpanned, his tone the calmest he had been this whole time. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.” 

Those were your husband’s last words as he walked away, leaving you sobbing and shuddering with a lost soul and sore heart. While weeping and gasping, you had to endure watching his figure fade from view, all while wanting to stop the uncomfortable distress that heightened with his departure. You were huffing, panting, trying to stop your trembling.

The second Naoya slammed the door behind him, Maki ran up to your side and embraced your shaking form, all while you bawled and clutched at yourself. Her expression remained strong, but her palms were damp as they pressed onto your back, her arms quavering slightly as she soothed your cries.

“Sh, don’t cry. My sister and I are here, okay? Mai and I will protect you. Everything will be alright.”

Despite her reassurances, she sounded nearly as broken as you appeared, especially when your hand violently trembled because nothing could save you from the agony that drowned your tattered soul. You felt the disgusting urge to throw up—you were completely broken inside. In a futile attempt, you sought to regulate your breaths with one deep inhale.

Yet, at some point, Maki peeled back and she mouthed something.

Was she talking to you? 

Why…why could you not hear her?

She sounded so muffled, as though you were underwater.

Why did everything sound so far away?

With your throat constricted, you could not breathe. Gagging. Gasping. Big, huge gulps of air, but the oxygen failed to enter your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You could not fucking breathe. 

You gripped the fabric by your chest and your other hand sought for something else to hold, but you ended up on the ground anyway. Choking. Coughing. Was something foaming at your mouth? Something warm and wet spilled from your orifices. Were you vomiting? Why were you vomiting?

Holding your body upright, Maki was the only reason that you had not remained on the floor like a fool, but even she stared at you with concern and…horror? Why did she look so scared? Was she screaming? She looked like she was screaming, but her face appeared all contorted like you were looking at her through a fish-eye lens. 

After a while, you could not even see her or her sister anymore because your vision turned spotty and then black. 

See! 

Open your eyes, and see! 

Why could you not see?

When your hearing returned to some degree, the sounds that filled your ears were frantic shouts and endless clamor.

“Call Toji! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, where is your phone?” It was Mai. Scrambling. Bags were being opened. Items being tossed. “Call Toji, now!”

A phone started to ring.

Buzzes and buzzes and more buzzes as the waiting intensified.

Then voicemail. 

Hello, this is Toji Fushiguro.  

“He is not picking up!” 

Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up the phone right now. 

“Get…”

But please leave your name and number—

“Get Megumi.” 

—and I will return your call as soon as possible.

“What about Tusmiki?”

“Tsumiki is still in London at university, idiot! Call…Call Megumi!”

“Okay. I know, I know! I’m calling him already!” someone screamed back. Was this Mai? Was this Maki? You could no longer tell, but the same person shouted, “Wait, wait. He is calling back. Toji is calling me back.”

“Then pick up the phone!”

“Toji…” one of the twins started, the cracks in her tone making her sound like she was weeping too, and her words composed your last bits of memory before the world dissolved completely. “Please…help us.”

Even labeling Naoya Zenin as ballistic would be far too much of an understatement.

The rage, wrath, and sheer indignation that swelled in his every capillary surpassed the twenty-five years' worth of virulent rancor that he had for his fucked-up family.

Since when did you get so goddamn arrogant? Naoya wanted to hurt you, ruin you, and do everything in his power to sabotage you. 

Not just you, though. Because that would be too easy.

But also his father, his cousins, his ex-coworkers, and—most importantly—Toji. 

Such ill feelings were what led the Zenin CEO to practically leap into the Mercedes-Benz that awaited him at the entrance to his family home, and he immediately ordered his chauffeur to press on the pedal toward a very certain condominium several kilometers away.

Fifteen minutes later, a very surprised Mari opened her door and an enraged Naoya greeted her, shoving her against the wall and colliding his lips into hers for a fierce kiss. His actions lacked passion, only charged with aggression as he stripped her and threw her onto the living room sofa. He could hardly care that he treated the woman as though she was nothing more than a prostitute, while the latter mistook her boyfriend’s rage for desperation, and she begged for him to pull at her hair and force his tongue down her mouth. 

At some point, Naoya drove his mistress’s face into the couch cushion and dragged her hips to have her ass raised high. He was too clouded by fury and too blinded by anger to think twice before he forcefully penetrated the woman. He fucked her raw and held her close, jostling her body as though she was a ragdoll, eliciting her loudest mewls that cried for his name. 

“J-Just like that!” she whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pummeled into her dripping hole, paying no mercy for destroying her with his ruthless pace. Her knees gave out from under her, and she crumbled from the sofa and into the carpet, only for him to tumble too to follow the socket he needed to keep his dick soaked. 

“I need to break you,” he hissed.

Fuck, he was going to come soon. 

His nails left crescent marks on her flesh, his hands burning her scalp as he tugged her strands and met her buttocks with hard thrusts, and he knew he was going to come. 

Feeling the first of his seed trick into his mistress’s life-giving cavern, he toyed with the idea of giving Tsumiki and Megumi a baby sibling. That would be fun. He could then imagine the subsequent mortified reactions from his deplorable cousin and from his wretched wife (whom he would hardly call himself married to anymore, anyway). The fantasies, everything that he would do to spite those who had wronged him, had Naoya cackling as his viscous cum spurted from his tip and deep into his mistress’s womb.

He pulled out once he made sure that every single drop had been milked from him, his ejaculate dribbling from her pussy like someone had taken a bite from a cream-filled donut.

Rolling into the carpet and onto her back, a panting Mari took two fingers and pressed his precious seed back into her cunt. “That was so hot.” A lazy smile pulled across her face. “Thank you for the unexpected visit.”

Naoya completely dismissed her comments as he tucked himself back into his pants, not in the right mood to respond. 

“Cool. Clean this mess up,” he demanded instead, “I’m leaving for work.” 

He ignored the woman’s ensuing pleas to stay at least five minutes longer. Unlike her, he had better things to do, and he rushed out as he fetched his phone from his back pocket and surveyed for any messages he might have missed while he had been away. 

But when he turned on his screen, his most recent notification had his blood turn cold.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The absolute fury in the argument, the complete panic between the twins, and the maniacal temperament in our husband…so much packed in this chapter! If you can’t tell already, my favorite POV to write from is Naoya’s, ha. Also, I took some creative liberty here to convey the intense emotions, so let me know what you think! Hugs to all.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[ravencincaide]

Damned if you do- Damned if you don’t 

Summary: Just because you were getting married didn’t mean you had to play nice. Unfortunately for you, banter did not seem to be the way to escape your engagement. But it did make certain situations unnecessarily complicated. Or the time Chuuya had ungodly amount of patience with you.

Pairing: Rebellious reader x Prince!Chuuya Nakahara  

Inspired by request by anon: arranged marriage, unladylike behaviour, running away and being brought right back by guards. set in 1920-1930'

Warnings: Arranged marriage and misogynistic view, insults/banter, cursing. 

Enjoy 

______________________________________________________________

You scaled the wall with ease, your hands grabbing at the uneven surfaces. You hosted yourself up, then reached for the next unevenness. Just a little bit more- two- no-  three more bricks and you’d be high enough to reach the top of the wall. Then you would be able to pull yourself up, roll over and drop down on the opposite side. A short walk later and you’d be near the city center and then–

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Get down from there!” you heard a rough male voice call out somewhere behind you, followed by the cling clang of metal as guards rushed towards you. 

Fuck. 

You climbed faster, carelessly. Trying to remember where the next protruding brick was. You grasped it just as the guards stopped beneath you. Then you hosted yourself higher- your fingers brushing the edge of the wall just as you felt the metallic gauntlet gripped your ankle. 

A rough tug and you were yanked off the wall with a scream. 

You fell for only a few seconds:your back made contact with the rough metal of the knight's armor which dug deep into your skin. Strong arm wrapped around your waist while the second one landed on your head, protecting you from the fall. Then the both of you went tumbling to the ground.  Once, twice, thrice you two rolled before a bush finally stopped your movements. 

You tore yourself away from the knight with a groan checking all limbs for any injuries or broken bones. Aside from a bunch of dirt and some minor scrapes you were entirely unharmed. Bummer- you were sure a deeper injury would have incited your parents wrath to postpone the marriage, or in the very least garnish enough sympathy to give you some time away from this hellhole. 

Tearing your eyes away from the scapes, you glared darkly at the two knights: “ What the hell?!” you growled as the other knight ran up to the both of you. The knight that tugged you down from the wall laughed- his laughter echoing inside his helmet as he pried himself off the ground. 

“ Up you go princess”  The first knight chuckled at your scowl as he pulled you up to stand between the two of them; each of them grabbing onto your arms. Like a prisoner. 

“ Hey! Don’t call me that!” you snapped as they began half walking- half dragging you back towards the main castle ignoring the way the new maids and staff gaped and gawked at the sight of you. While the more seasoned staff merely rolled their eyes and rushed away, no doubt preparing a bath and trying to find the one that managed to take their eyes off of you long enough for you to make yet another escape attempt. 

Idiotically and futile; everyone knew you were never going to be the type of princess who’d adhere to the customs and norms and just sit quietly in your room. For better or worse. 

Instead of dragging you back to your chambers the guards pulled you straight towards the grand dining room where the doors were already wide opened; signaling that breakfast would begin any moment now. Seems someone from your so-called new family was ready to start the day. You’d be willing to bet half a year's allowance that it was Chuuya. And you were not wrong. Damn it. 

You cursed loudly as the knights dragged you all the way up to the table. They bowed, let your arms go before moving to take their post at the door.

“Mhph It’s not even breakfast time yet you’re already dragged in here by guards. Don’t you have some self respect? If you want to go out you just need to ask.” Chuuya did not bother to look up at you, his focus entirely on the tray set down by the butler with three different, freshly brewed cups of newly imported coffee. So typical- even at breakfast all Chuuya was focused on was keeping favour with the right people in high society and that damned work of his. 

“ Like hell I’m asking for anything from the likes of you!” You spat plucking a twig out of your hair before tossing it onto the tray in front of Chuuya, earning yourself a dark glare. Before you could toss a leaf into his drink, the butler came forward and pulled your chair out for you, taking your attention away from the ginger. You moved over to your seat and flopped down into it ungracefully before plucking more thorns, leaves and other garden reminiscences off your clothes, studying them with fake interest until you gathered a large bunch. However before you could throw it at the smug prince the butler intervened, taking the debris out of your hands and handing you a warm towel to clean your hands with instead. You frowned at the older man but had enough sense to let it go- you did not want to make the head butler's life more difficult just because you hated the family he served. 

Your look did not go unnoticed: “ Seriously? Can’t you get a hobby like a normal woman! Read a book or engage in high society” Chuuya hissed, his voice thick with annoyance. In one hand he held one of the three cups of espresso while in another a zippo lighter, readying to light the cigarette that was dangling between his lips. Coffee and cigarettes. 

So typical of your soon-to-be.

“ Oh and be like you? Nothing but work and women on your mind!” you snapped back your eyes boring holes into the man, not missing the way his smile was replaced with a frown. 

“ Oj! Be thankful goddamn it! Any other man would have beaten the shit out of you for your antics already!” He turned his eyes away from you and lit his cigarette. He took a deep drag, the nicotine driving some of his stress and frustration right out of him. 

“ Beaten? The shit out of me?” you laughed then sneered, teeth bared “I’d like to see you try, little prince” 

Chuuya growled then leaned forward blowing the smoke in your face. Hitting your senses with the smell of tobacco, coffee and just a hint of Chuuya’s cologne. You did not cough at the smoke, but rather made a big show of waving your hand in front of your face to clear the air. “ Yucks it stinks, just like you” 

“ Why you ignorant little–” Chuuya’s insult was cut right off by the kings unimpressed statement of; “- Children stop fighting- it’s not even breakfast time.” 

Both of you stiffened in your seats. You muttered a polite ‘good morning’ before turning your attention to look out of the window. That seemed the least awkward option than staring or glaring at either of the royal men, or the fussing staff that brought out breakfast and then made the dire mistake of attempting to take the imported coffee away from Chuuya. Hearing his snarky remark towards the maid made you roll your eyes. As another maid placed your food in front of you, you went out of your way to thank her profusely, acting the very opposite of your soon to be. Much to Chuuya’s annoyance. 

“ Oh so you do know manners?” Chuuya grumbled under his breath beside you as he put out his cigarette before lighting himself another one directly after. 

Faking a fake shocked expression, you stared at him with wide eyes: “ Oh my you know such an advanced word already- manners- you must be–” 

You were cut off as the king cleared his throat, once again intervening in your bickering. Chuuya flashed you a cocky grin, as if to say he won that round, while you rolled your eyes as you poked the sunny side up eggs with your fork, smearing the yolk over hashbrowns. You took a bite, instantly wishing for some seasoning: like salt, chili flakes or sambal. 

“ The coming of age ball are starting and invitations are flooding in. To show the royal families support, you two will be attending the balls of our closest allies.” The king declared, his eyes focused on his breakfast. He clearly didn’t care about the blank look on Chuuya’s face nor the slight hint of excitement on yours at the prospect of finally going somewhere outside palace walls without an equipment of staff and guards watching your every breath! 

“ And do try to act like a proper couple; you will be husband and wife shortly” the king added with an afterthought. His words made you groan loudly- not knowing what was worse: the flavorless breakfast, being stuck inside this shitty castle or having to act all lovey-dovey in high society events again. In short your life felt as shitty as your morning. 

“ God don’t tell me I have to go with him?`Yes? Damn okay then please, please tell me I can be spared from dancing with Shortie at the very least!” You rudely pointed your fork in Chuuya's direction while your eyes were focused on the king's collected expression. 

You could hear Chuuya stab his food with a little too much force at your words; “Hmph who else would even want to be in the same room as someone so trashy if they weren’t forced into it? At least have the common sense not to cause a political conflict at such a simple event!”  

“ Chuuya has a point that you would need a wardrobe update for these events to match the latest fashion. You will start with it today” The king's words made you smile, for a moment forgetting all about the bickering. Oh how lovely- in a few hours you’d finally get a breather from here. And then maybe you could– “ But Y/N do clean up before you head out” the king commanded while slicing into his plate of bacon and eggs. “ No respectable place worthy of royal business will let you within a feet of their store with twigs and leaves in your hair” 

Your smile dropped instantly and you rolled your eyes but nodded, showing you understood the order and the unspoken consequences if you disobeyed. You may be rude and rebelious but you were not suicidal. Still Chuuya couldn’t help but rub those words in for you. As if eager to spoil anything good that came your way!

“ You see sweetheart if only you’d been patient instead of bratty you could be outside the palace walls already” Chuuya taunted you before taking a sip of another cup of the imported coffee. The way he put the cup down quickly told you it was far too tart for his liking. 

“ Oh and Chuuya do make sure you match with Y/N. Like a proper husband. Not like last time” Chuuya’s smile didn’t falter though his eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“ Hey! I would have matched just fine if she had at least a vague sense of taste and fashion- ” 

“ Of course you’d know all about it, little miss Chuuya” you growled feeling an oncoming headache.

“ What the fuck did you just say?” Chuuya’s voice went up in pitch- a clear indication you were walking on thin ice. You didn’t care however- if anything you prayed he’d finally lose his cool and call off this so-called engagement. 

“ I said: You’d know all about it – That’s all your head’s filled with after all: clothes, high society, coffee. My, you’d make a fine girl if you ditched the suit and grew some tits. Down there you’re already–

“- At the very least I know better than to wear cheap commoner rags to a ball, harpy!” Chuuya cut you off, taking a long drag off his smoke as he watched you gap at the insult. 

“ Harpy?! Who the hell are you calling a harpy you simpleton? If there was anyone worth dressing up for I’d have actually bothered looking good!”  

“ Please as if a battle axe can have any— ““ – That is enough” the king cut Chuuya off with a calm and collected tone. “ You two have a long day ahead of you- you better get going.”

With those words your barely touched breakfast was ripped away from you while two maids began ushing you back towards your chambers. Much to your disappointment.  Still you didn’t miss the smirk on Chuuya’s face as he watched you get dragged out of the dining room. If anything he made sure to annoy you more by raising his cup of coffee to you before tapping two fingers on his wrist, reminding you not to waste his time anymore than necessary. It seems he was giving you until he was done with his coffee for you to get ready to leave- or else you’d spend yet another day coped up inside the palace walls. 

You growled before turning your back to him and following the maids back to your room in a hurry.  

You swore you were going to find a way to wipe that shiteating grin off his face. Even if it meant you’d have to swallow your pride and get ready quickly to head out to the royal family’s dressers and boutiques. Once there however you would do your best to pick up and wear the priciest and most ridiculous dress that the boutique had to offer. Maybe even the ugliest thing in sight just to see the proud, appearance-fixated bastard colour match and hang with you in this high class event. Just to see him lose a little face in front of his so-called precious high society. 

And maybe, just maybe, that was all it would take to finally get this marriage called off. 

[horizon-verizon]

Rhaenyra, of all characters, doesn’t need more violently misogynistic scenes; her entire plot revolves around how, due to being a woman, her entire life falls apart. She will lose her children and die in a horrifically violent and gruesome way SOLELY because she’s a woman, she gets written out of history because she’s a woman, and she gets mocked, slut shamed and villainized because she’s a woman. And to all of that, they want to add even domestic abuse on top ? It’s just so repugnant, and bordering on trauma porn.

It is trauma porn. This show was always a mistake, pretty much from it first fucking episode. I'm tired of the "2 canons" nonsense; the show canon is atrocious and worse than the canon-canon, espe in its tired implicit claim that the war as always about how futile it was and meaningless bc predatory both sides--equally in terror and evil--were. When it's been about misogyny, not disobedience to the status quo of not standing up for yourself when a man steals shit from you!!! Esp when the greens had LITERALLY nothing to lose with Rhaenyra's rise to power the peaceful way!!!

[i-dont-know-how-this-site-works]

Echo checks his comm, part 5

(Did it take me almost 2 weeks to come up with a new one after the finale? Yes.)

Message from: Lanky Bastard

"Come on over to Tantiss, they have great ear doctors, cause it seems that none of you cAN FUCKING LISTEN-"

Message from: Tech

"I lived, you derogatory term directed to women based on misogynistic notions on female sexuality."

*Tech sent a photo**Tech in a hospital bed, front tooth chipped, circular bruises around his eyes from the frames of his googles hitting him, blood soaked bandage around his head, dopey smile from the painkillers, tries to do a peace sign for the photo, but all his fingers are in a cast so his attempt is futile*

Change contact info: My idiot brother

(4)Message from: <3 my best girl <3

"Mom, why did you never tell me I had a sister"

"?"

"Also"

"Can you pick me up, Hemlock's breath smells like Wrecker's unwashed socks and its digustang"

[boethiah]

first impression of almalexia??

First impression

oh no, generic motherly goddess character :/

Impression now

she is literally me i am literally her

Favorite moment

when she repeatedly tries to get her ex-husband killed by sending him to do frivolous tasks in the sewers. DEFEATING MEHRUNES DAGON. getting so mad at molag bal that she cried about it and the tears turned into powerful explosives that she made her servants use to blow his shit up. the fact that she prophesised the oblivion crisis. the regicide. etc.

Idea for a story

i am literally in the process of writing a 70k+ fic about her pre-nerevar mortal life and that only scratches the surface. but hey, if anyone wants specific almalexia-themed writing prompts, i have about ten million

Unpopular opinion

she is definitely a hardcore badass but i don't think she's like, The Ultimate Hardcore Badass that some of the fandom seems to make her out to be. she's strong and rational and a fantastic leader but she's also deeply unstable and has some sort of trauma that distorts her ability to reason quite severely-- e.g. she's behaved borderline suicidally at times, not just in fighting mehrunes dagon but also in her response to tiber septim's invasion, there's good evidence that she was prepared to get herself and her army killed in a futile resistance effort, and vivec had to drag her (and sotha sil) out of a suicide mission to red mountain, when dagoth ur stole the tools of kagrenac. in the same vain i get kind of annoyed when people say that her apparent madness in tribunal is "just misogynistic writing". i think she can be both very strong and smart AND inherently unstable thanks to massive trauma. both sotha sil and vivec canonically saw her as a ticking time bomb who would inevitably hurt herself and/or others during a supermassive breakdown and i don't think that sentiment came out of nowhere

Favorite relationship

obv it has got to be almsivi. they are groundbreaking pioneers in trauma-bonding. honourable mention to whatever the fuck is happening between her and boethiah in eso

Favorite headcanon

once again i just need to kinda handwave at my ao3 for this one but uhh. recently was talking about the headcanon that ysmir wulfharth is her bio father which is really just canon to me. i'm not considering almalexia being dragonborn as a headcanon because that's basically textual

[laufire]

🔥 the tvd reddit

Yet Another Post Complaining About How Hostile The Sub Is To Damon Fans (I think we should bully them harder).

"isn't it so sad that Stefan settled for Caroline? he clearly loved Elena more" DO I LOOK LIKE I FUCKING CARE ABOUT A SINGLE THING THAT STEFAN HAS WANTED IN HIS SAD WITTLE LIFE. SHUT UP AND LOOK PRETTY AND EAT YOUR FIANCÉE OUT, THEN DIE AS SOON AS SHE'S TIED TO YOU TO FREE HER FOR BETTER MORE INTERESTING THINGS, MARTYR BOY.

"wasn't lexi the worst" - a damon fan.

"wasn't everyone just so unfair to damon" - a damon fan.

"ugh why do people keep bringing up that damon is a rapist this is a show about VAMPIRES!!1" - take a wild guest.

we really should bully them harder.

*38th discussion about a plot hole than can easily be explained away/it's so obviously doylist-driven it's just a futile exercise in frustration* why do people think they're better than me for not caring as much about this.

is that legitimate criticism against plec's writing or bigoted biases? NOPE. just gross misogynistic speculation about her sexual life!

and a million other annoying things but i'll stop here. yeah this sub is responsible for me temporary disabling notifications from reddit's app xD

Send Me a 🔥+ a Topic, and I’ll Tell You My Honest Opinion About It

[lamedemoniaque]

Weed update:

Weed is great but the after affects and the waves of dread and despair hit me so hard in the morning. Waking up is supposed to be a rebirth; a new day is upon us and I choose to be how I was in the past (pessimistic, susceptible to negativity, letting things snowball)

I can’t find solutions to the weird problems I have. Root causes for things help to cope but the gravity of my potential impact on this world is jarring…it makes me dizzy and unable to dream and I dont know what’s right or wrong. Im damaging my brain day by day but as i’ve come into myself recently, I see that I am in fact, quite reasonably human and reasonable humans drink and smoke and fuck and work out and talk to one another; sometimes passionately but most times it is idle in nature. The root cause being that humans do thèse things because they are human, And that’s the only reason we need. It’s not so simple, nor is it so unbelievably complex but it’s oh so frustrating. The only thing I’ve wanted to understand was others and i’ve made amazing strides towards this goal, but in the end, while it’s not a futile effort, it is rather arbitrary and there’s too many dead ends.

My findings are that people, wherever they lie on social standings, will always go out of their way to express their ideals, beliefs and their artistic visions. There’s no true hiding that can be done, but lets be real: body language experts are such horrid cunts and that whole practice is suspect to say the least. That being said, I get called out a lot for stereotyping people, and they are correct to do so but I’ve noticed that people dont usually tend to break social contracts, even arbitrary ones like marriage, friendships and job obligations but they also don’t go against the social conventions of their communities. I believe that community is essential to human life and capitalism and other shit has really skewed this sonic truth about human life. People in certain groups will act a certain way, but that is not a guarantee because guess what? People are complex! We like the mystery of others, so if I make an assumption about someone based on what I know about their culture and their upbringing, that’s just a lead into learning the actual true things about one. People break stereotypes as much if not more than they follow them and I think it’s fascinating truly.

In other news, my love life has continued to be in shambles but I do hope for a change in that whenever the Gods believe that I deserve what I am worthy of. That being said, dating apps are a disgusting trap for those seemingly desperate enough to play a part in the company’s shitty game (me af) and while I just literally typed that out, I don’t really hate dating apps, I just don’t like the way it’s set up. There’s this disgusting aspect to seeing others show themselves off with no substance and the substance is impossible to find because it’s too fucking hard to bridge the gap between the mutual agreement that we live in the same general area and not getting a feel for someone automatically by meeting them in an “organic” matter, but I still dont think it’s bad. I think the thing that bugs me is almost having to pay for the services because dating and being seen by other’s in your dating pool is really fucking hard! Like extremely hard, even if you’re confident and attractive like I like to believe that I am. I dont want to sound anywhere close to a misogynist, but I’ve noticed that through these dating apps, people seem to pigeonhole themselves into seemingly being one-dimensional and that’s concerning because even the people, ugly in their heart, are filled with endless depth that many do not know of, and while the physical aspect isn’t there, it’s still an odd, new thing that we’re still wrapping our heads around. I’m also very concerned about cis-women because I’m not convinced that they like men, but aspects of “masculinity” that are derived from social expectations but that are inhabited by those who I describe as “men-adjacent” (fruits, transwomen/transmen, dudes who know about hello kitty, dudes with a decent to great skincare routine, etc.) and by that I mean that this notion of the definition of masculinity, some machismo enigma of hard labor and bad takes, is 1. Not sought after and 2. Behind the times, maybe even forgotten, and it’s destroying my brain because what the fuck is the point of Irish Spring, Axe bodyspray, Old Spice and beard oil if that’s not what I would presume their dating pool would be, women, want from them at all? It’s still hitting me and it’s not that im even affected by this in any romantic sense (I’m nonbinary and have a devotion to looking as attractive as possible by almost any means) it’s just baffling…

And i know what the variable is that I’m missing! Conservative “people”! That’s not a bad point to make, but even those fools do exactly what I was alluding too. The gun girl cunt bitch lady has the most twinked up gayed out husband and the other shapiro also has a husband that is so against the conventions that they preach and so with that, I will say that the biggest voice for this arbitrary nonsense are not the ones that practice, but the ones who preach…

I’m just very alone romantically and it’s really making my grit my teeth so fucking bad! It’s not a sex thing! I’ve already had sex I dont even care about these primal, carnal urges I just WANT A FUCKING HUG WITH SOMEONE WHO CARES ABOUT ME!!! I WILL NOT SURRENDER AND GIVE UP ON CIS WOMEN BUT GODDAMN THEY ARE RETARDS!!!

[ratlombot2]

I AM CONFUSED.

IF YOU DON’T NEED ANYONE?

THEN WHY ARE YOU ON A DATING SITE?

.

As part of my efforts to date in my fifties…

I am often putting a lot of futile effort into conversations with prospective partners that end up going nowhere.

I fully admit that I have not got much of anything to offer anyone,

No assets, No money, and No future, and my social skills and natural in-person charm level are not just below average but well below zero!

All I have is honesty, trust, and love to give.

It is not much, but that is all that this package has.

I keep finding myself investing futile time and effort with women, (because Mother Nature randomly made me straight,) – who are vehemently, and adamantly saying things, such as.

“I don’t need a man; I don’t need anyone”.

Or

“I don’t want to be in a ‘co-dependent’ relationship”.

Or even

“I refuse to be owned,”

“I am not romantic,”

“I don’t believe in love.”

Which on the surface seems like a banner of strength and independence in a dangerous misogynistic world.

– And I get it. Men Are largely crap.

I have seen enough tears in the eyes of women I have known both socially and within my family to know that.

I have seen enough domestic violence and psychological scars to fully understand how crap men Are!

.

But let us put aside the “gender” issues for the moment.

Because, whether a lesbian couple, gay couple, straight couple or some other combination of two or more people in a romantic situation – needing each other makes all the difference!

.

Because needing each other, depending on each other, and being in love with each other, is what romantic relationships  ARE!

If you don’t need each other on some deep emotional level – then you are just, (at best) “friends with benefits”, or “fuck buddies”.

.

I need to be needed.

I need to need them!

.

I love to love!

I love to be loved!

.

I want to own someone,

In the exact and same equal way,

I want to be owned by someone else.

.

IF IT IS NOT LOVE? - THEN WHY BOTHER?

.

I would spend time with a girlfriend because I felt a need to be close to her! (a need that was more than just sex).

I am faithful because I feel owned by my girlfriend! - I belong to her! – I WANT to be owned by her!

We would both be co-dependent because being able to depend on one another, is part of being in a committed relationship.

Ultimately (because I have a high drive) I would want to have sex with her all the time well into our old age, because all the above, creates an erotic connection based on history and an emotional connection that transcends mere physical looks.

But that need for sex is NOT because I am a “man”, but because I am in love with my partner!

That NEED is Only for her! – And Her alone!

I want to be close and sexual with them all the time because I love them!

AND I WANT THEM TO FEEL THE SAME WAY ABOUT ME!

She should spend time with me because she felt a need to be close to me! (a need that was more than just sex).

She would be faithful because she feels owned by me! - She belongs to me! – She  WANTS to be owned by ME! (This sentence quoted out of context, removed from the rest of this article sounds as dodgy as all hell! LOL!)

AGAIN, We would both be co-dependent because being able to depend on one another, is part of being in a committed relationship.

She would want to have sex with me well into our old age, because all the above, creates an erotic connection based on history and an emotional connection that transcends mere physical looks.

Her need for Love is NOT because she is a “Woman”!

She would want to be close and sexual with me because she loves me!

She would not be using sex, that sacred feeling of love, bonding and closeness as a shitty ‘bargaining tool’, weapon, ‘act of spite’, ‘manipulation tool’ or punishment to “Teach him a lesson” or “Keep him in line”, as if I was some naughty dog that needed training.

Because that denigrates and despoils the value of our intimacy and turns it into a chess piece!

It kills the romance and the love.

It turns our “lovemaking” into “just shagging”.

.

When all I have in this world to give is only honesty, trust, and love.

But I am told that those merger offerings are not “needed”. – then I know that I am wasting my time with that woman.

I do not want just companionship! – (that’s the downgrade my ex-wife wanted!)

I do not want to be just sharing bills and chores and a bed with a friend!

I want poetry and romance and love.

I want to feel crazy stupid love again!

The sort that creates a constant sexual desire for each other, that makes us both look at the wrinkles and fat and sagginess and still think that we are each the sexiest person in the world to us both!

.

In short

I want to feel the same way - that I once felt for my ex-wife.

The person I once always desired because I loved her – no matter how the years passed and changed us both.

(Unfortunately, she did not feel the same.)

(One of my worst memories was her saying to me one day “We don’t need to be in love, to be together, We can just be companions”… …This was just one of the very many times she broke my heart.)

.

To be clear,

I am NOT criticising anyone’s personal worldview!

If you don’t want to be “owned”, “needed”, “depended on”, “to depend on anyone”, “need anyone”, “love”, or even “sex”.

Then <shrug> Good for you.

Do that!

Live your life!

Be “You” just as hard as You can to its fullest extent!

I’m rooting for and defending your choices Vs anyone who would say otherwise!

But remember that your worldview is not the only one.

Your personal philosophy is not the only one.

Everyone is entitled to who they are! (within the limits of not harming others) – This is a hill I am fully prepared to literally die on! – To literally give my life for! – To even kill for! (as a last ‘defending others’ resort.)  

So, I am just as equally entitled to be a needy romantic who wants to be in love again.

As you are to be independent needs no one, go it alone, warrior.

You are Not wrong!

BUT…

…Neither am I!

Don’t engage me on a dating site, find out what I want in life, - and then dare try to preach to me, - that  I am wrong for wanting that.

I would never be so arrogant as to say that to you!

We may both want different things, but both of those things are valid!

My only negative comment might be this…

“IF YOU DON’T NEED ANYONE? “

“THEN WHY, THE HELL, ARE YOU ON A DATING SITE?!”

“FFS!!”

You are wasting both our time, mine, and yours.

.

[the-real-zhora-salome]

Wow. I can't even. None of that makes any sense not to mention it seems misogynistic and kinda racist, like what does her being Jewish have to do with anything? Not that I believe any of it, but seriously wtf? Sylvie is shorter than Tom? Most people are. Awkward circumstances? Tom was in the middle of a great run. Nepotism?

And firstly Tom didn't seek her out, it was the other way around which is the exact opposite of what happened with Sylvie. Wait. Hold the fuck up. Why am I even trying to make sense of this deranged bullshit?

That's what I was wondering too. LOL Trying to understand this is futile.

[nightcoremoon]

on avatar and sokka’s sexism

kyoshi island was the fourth. episode.

it was not an integral defining aspect of his character in the grand scheme of things. when you think of sokka what do you think of? a genuine selfless loyal caring guy with daddy issues that developed into an inferiority complex that then turned into a sense of honor, a sarcastic sense of humor, a brilliant strategic tactician, a guy who’s not very good at art but still does it anyway, a man who is willing to risk all of his beloved material possessions for the CHANCE to save his friends no matter how futile a chance it is.

you don’t think of him as “a guy who used to be misogynist”, why, because that is an active detriment to his character. it’s an insult. the only reason the first half of book 1 was the way it was is because it’s what nickelodeon wanted. then when the network realized mike and bryan were both immensely talented and had a creative vision, they were then allowed to have overarching plots and more complex characters, and it was after that the show really found its footing. sokka wasn’t ever intended to have his sole defining character arc be this shitty slapdash low-effort Go Feminism! story. and removing it… does nothing. you can still have the Kyoshi storyline with Sokka’s pride as a water tribe warrior challenged by this new earth kingdom entity that’s different in nearly every single way. it is possible to write sokka without the sexism and still have a cohesive working narrative.

don’t act like the writers didn’t do that to make you get so mad that they’re trying to sanitize it of problematic content so you’re distracted by the fact the writing fucking sucks. it is literally the same thing that velma did: do a social change to distract everyone from realizing that it (isn’t very good). sure looks fine but every single character was assassinated.

[17sasuke]

thoughts on badhaai do

it definitely wasn't a perfect movie and the story was too obviously led by cishets but i loved how it didn't end w everyone's acceptance. sumi's mom wasn't even present during the pooja at the end but it didn't matter bc they had what was important to them. freedom, a child and their own acceptance. and that of sumi and rimjhim under the pride flag? i owe them my life for it. if i'm reviewing this objectively its 7/10 but i'm attached to the characters this is now one of my comfort films so for introducing sumi, rimjhim, guru and shardul's mom to me i'm giving this one a ten. (also for the pride scene. cinematography.)

spoilers under the cut

what i didn't like: it does drag in between while some other plotlines are never properly explored (i honestly didn't feel like they focused enough on sumi and shardul's relationship although it was supposed to be the backbone of the film). the kabir plotline should have been completely deleted actually and instead focused more on shardul's misogyny and his relationship w sumi.

the entire kabir plotline was so bad tbh. one, the age gap was a questionable (they'd been together 3 years already so). two, wow were they gonna write that domestic violence off bc they were both men?? bc shardul should have gone to jail for that wtf?? three, it wasn't even ever resolved. if they were carry it in this direction anyway there should have been a scene where they sat down and talked but?? four, the domestic violence thing. you can't raise ur hand on ur lover and it looks so much worse bc shardul's around 8-10 years older than him he's dating a college student and when he realizes the dude's bored of him and lying to him he hits him and then says sorry stfu and go to jail.

also there's many times thru out where i really felt like this story was made largely by cishets. the romances really suffered from the heterofication of gay love bc a) the violence thing w shardul and b) when sumi and rimjhim fought and said callous things to each other but never talked about it, apologized or even addressed the root of the issue (rimjhim's jealousy. u can argue that it'd be futile to bring it up since everyone knows suman's gay but it doesn't hurt to write a scene where a girl placates her gf's insecurities.)

basically. heterofication. like they had to show gay romances were like toxic cishet ones to make the audience more accepting or smth i literally dk but i hated it.

oh and the biphobia. did they have to shove that on rimjhim's character. like ik gay ppl can be v biphobic but if ur not going to address that as an issue that needs to be changed then don't bring it up at all.

lastly, shardul's misogyny. tbh i loved that they brought it up bc really cis gay men can be so fucking nasty and misogynist and its almost never talked about bc apparently gay men are more understanding of women (suman even exclaims this once!). it was done well and used as a comedic device which did give way to some good jokes but in the end we never see him grow out of it, realize he was wrong or apologize to suman. from the one year skip its obv it was resolved he isn't a dick anymore (bc shardul's misogyny came from his need to hide his sexuality behind the alpha male façade) but instead of wasting time on the kabir plot i wish they'd instead explored this deeper and concluded this plotline onscreen.

what i liked:

everything else. i loved every lgbt character (except kabir bc idk what to think about him and shardul bc he's on thin fucking ice), shardul's mother and suman's dad. also loved naaznin. if only we got to see more of her.

i teared up so much by the end esp during suman's conversation w her father and when shardul's mom hugged him. but its when her father tells rimjhim to sit beside sumi that i genuinely broke down. everything else was like sumi herself said: u expected this much from them. u imagine that soming out scene so much when they say those exact words that lock u up w terror, u feel like u've already heard it before. her father was the only one she had hope in, her father was the only person she had any expectations for. he too let her down thou, he too broke her heart. but he got over it, he made up for it. he didn't only accept her, he accepted her gf too, as sumi's partner, as the mother to sumi's child. he told her to sit next to his daughter and sobbed so hard like i'm never going to have that so its soothing to see a fictional character get that.

and shardul's mom oh god i adore her. she shouldn't have outed suman ever but i can't bring myself to think of her as a bad person for that. bc when it came to her own son? she accepted him the minute he said he was gay. she gave him what sumi wanted from her father, what she begged her father for. not understanding not even kindness just acceptance. and that's true love yk that's what parental love should be like. u don't need to understand ur kids u should be accepting them no matter what. i do think the reason she outed suman had less to do w her being gay and more w her thinking suman cheated on her son thou. this is like the only time i've forgiven an outing wow this movie really did that.

anyway the whole kabir sequence was unnecessary and only made me hate shardul more. cis gay men Are misogynist and i like that they addressed that but it wasn't properly resolved onscreen and that combined w kabir made shardul such a despicable character. if i delete that thou then i adore him misogyny and all. i was so proud of him in the end. when he came out in anger hearing his family insulting sumi (inadvertently insulting him), when he wore the mask during pride and when he called his bf over during the pooja. loved his growth thou really instead of the kabir plot i wish they worked more on sumi and shardul i wanted to see them bond more to see them become best friends, each other's ride-or-dies. only good thing that came out of that plotline was that we got sumi-shardul bonding moments. yeah my only gripe w this movie is the kabir plot. all that screentime wasted when they could have focused on other plots like sumi-shardul, shardul/guru or more of sumi/rimjhim. or the resolution of his misogyny.

omg guru. i loved that guy so much loved every scene w him in it he really saved the movie by fixing the male lead thank god. (those scenes of him flirting w shardul. the business card and the secret hand holding omg.)

my favorite thing obv was sumi and rimjhim. there was smth so accurate about lesbians moving in immediately and then discussing children within weeks of dating. their romance arc their relationship the way they're moms!! (they're MOMS!!) all of it was such a delight to watch. it felt so good to watch a wlw romance in a bollywood movie i could watch them for hours i wish they got a full length feature film like all that chemistry, their acting, their story, it feels inadequate watching it all squeezed into the movie as a parallel plot. (wish we saw them getting married. just a marriage scene is that too much to ask for.)

[necros-writing-stuff]

Hello yes I would like to request one (1) Darius writing from you if I could 👀

Sexy misogynistic bastard make me go brrr

Les' go. Some incest I do be thinking. With his brother's kid.

NSFW below (noncon, dead dove, incest, afab reader with fem terms to up the misogyny).

It had started as just a regular barbecue. A family gathering in your back garden, summer breeze keeping things a nice temperature.

By the grill, your dad stood talking to his brother. Uncle Darius (Or uncle Dare, as you called him). A quiet, lonely man. That's how dad described the ex-detective. You could still remember what he was like when you were little, though. How he was still quiet, but seemed silently content. He'd only gotten irate since losing his job on the force.

It had been during your dad's birthday when you'd remembered Darius flying into a rage, breaking a table and storming out. Nearly a decade ago now but still fresh in your mind. Now you preferred to keep your uncle at an arms length, even if he seemed to like you most out of his niblings.

He'd pat your head when walking by; he'd hover outside of your room and offer help with any work you’d have; he'd offer lifts and to take you on fishing trips. But something had always seemed... off. So you turned him down. Even if your dad would tell you to go. That's he's as lonely as he said. You're the daughter he never had, apparently.

Today you'd spent the day sat in a shaded spot away from everyone else. Just sipping your drink, watching you family go back and forth. You'd join in when called, but would honestly be happier up in your room. You can't go there, though, can you? No, your mother had told you to stay downstairs. 'Socialise'. Yeah, cause you'd been talking a lot.

Still, bathroom breaks were a godsend. They meant that you could take a few minutes to breathe without feeling watched - even though no one was paying attention to you in the first place.

You'd just finished peeing, leaning over the sink to wash your hands, when you heard someone try the door handle. "Uh- just a minute!" you call out, hastily turning the tap off and using the towel on the rack to dry off. A quick look in the mirror to fix your appearance. Deep breath. Now you're ready for the world again.

Uncle Dare is on the other side. His huge, hulking frame blocks the whole damn doorway, an intimidating sight in all honesty. "Hi," you try to give him a polite smile, to move like you want to step around him, but he doesn't budge. That familiar dread you get when alone with him fills you once again.

Casting a look over his shoulder, Darius pauses. And then, quick as a whip, a hand reaches out and covers your mouth. You're pushed backwards till you're both fully in the bathroom, Darius turning you around and pulling you against his chest. His hand remains over your lips, muffling your panicked yells.

The door closes and locks, the 'click' inducing further panic. Darius' hand trailing up your thigh makes your eyes sting, tears welling up. 

"Shhh, shh," he whispers fingers dipping under your skirt. Another thing your ma had insisted on, to look like you've made an effort for your grandparents. "No need to struggle, love. I'll be gentle."

You don't want him to be doing fucking anything! Escape seems futile, though, your nails leaving red welts on his arms yet having no other visible effect on him. So you try another method to make him back off - you bite into his hand as hard as you can manage. Darius hisses, but doesn’t pause his assault for even a second. Your skirt is up over your hips, your panties being shoved down your thighs as you keep biting and sobbing all at the same time.

His flesh is warm against the tender skin of your ass as he pins your chest to the wall with his body. “This is your last fucking chance, kid. Stop biting and be still, or I’ll drag your downstairs and say I caught you getting it on with a boy in your room like a little slut. How do you think your mother would like that?”

That pauses you. Your mother holds rather... traditional values. You know she would believe him, even if you wept and begged for help. Even if you screamed that your dearest uncle had tried to rape you in your own home, she’d listen to him. And your father had always idolised his old brother. He’d side with Darius, too. Would they kick you out? Would they send you to your great-aunt Mae’s house, like your mother was when she misbehaved? You remember the horror that they said that woman inflicted. 

So you give in. You go limp, resigned to only sobbing in your uncle’s arms as he kisses your forehead and positions himself to steal your innocence. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “You always were my favourite. Always were so kind to me. Here, I’ll do you a favour.” Darius spits on his palm, bringing it between your legs and rubbing the meagre lubrication into your dry folds before doing it again to the tip of his shaft. 

Nothing makes him pause this time. Not the fat tears rolling down your cheeks or the pathetic little ‘please’ that you sob out. He just pulls you close and begins a slow, torturous entrance into your tight, unexplored little cunny. It burns with the stretch, a pain you’ve never experienced before and don’t want to ever feel again. But the dark haired man shivers, shushing you again when you accidentally let out a high pitched whine in protest. He just keeps going, keeps sinking further and further until his hips finally connect to the backs of your thighs. 

A satisfied grunt fills your ears, Darius stilling for a few seconds to savour the feeling of being buried somewhere no one else ever has. It’s a sweet feeling, one that encourages every little possessive thought he’s ever had about you when jacking off wasted on his living room couch at 3am. He’s got you now. He has this little piece of you that can’t be given to anyone else, and he’s going to use it just as he likes.

The first thrust makes you gasp. The second, third and forth ensure that no breath returns to your lungs as he hits deep, sucker-punching your cervix over and over till your legs turn into jelly mere seconds after the fucking begins. It’s good that he holds you up, you might have face-planted the wall and broken your nose if his arm wasn’t dead-locked around your chest. His fingers invade your mouth, holding down your tongue so nothing coherent can leave your lips.

Despite the rough start, your body adapts. Your pussy gets wet and starts producing obscene noises that redden your cheeks. If uncle Dare notices, he makes no big deal out of it, simply pressing his face into the crook of your neck and hammering away to reach his peak.

You’re ashamed of yourself. Ashamed that you gave in so easily, upset that your body got wet, and devastated that you keep angling your hips to feel as good as you can get. You’ve masturbated before, you know the warning signs of an orgasm creeping up your spine and it’s obvious by the tingling in your thighs that you body teeters on the edge. 

Whatever noise it is you make as you finish is animalistic, your eyes rolling back and muscles tensing before relaxing completely. You’re hyper aware of Darius’ breath huffing against your neck as he picks up the pace, thrusts losing any rhythm as he gets close himself. And then he finishes. Deep, deep inside with a low growl.

Neither of you move for a while afterwards, save for melting onto the floor like two puddles. Darius keeps you stuffed sitting in his lap, stroking his hand up and down your arm in a bizarre show of intimacy that gives the strangest sense of comfort.

After what feels like an eternity, he kisses your forehead and lifts you from his lap, gently settling you down against the wall. “This was nice. I hope you enjoyed yourself like I did.” He crouches down in front of you after fixing his pants. A hand creeps up your thigh again, his thumb teasing your clit for a brief second before he pulls away again. “I own that,” he points at the junction of your thighs. “I own you now. That’s how this works. But it’s our little secret for now, got it?”

Too tired to fight him, you weakly nod. It’s enough to satisfy Darius, who smiles and stands to his full, towering height once more. “I’ll see you downstairs,” he throws over his shoulder as he leaves. Leaves you alone, dripping his seed on the bathroom floor, with shame pooling in your heart.

[coughloop]

vent/rant post about fash/cryptofash/reactionaries on tumblr under the cut dont reblog

im really frustrated with how things have gone down in the last week and im gonna ramble a lot, also im gonna use fash/cryptofash/reactionary and maybe some other terms pretty interchangeably cause they all feel like umbrella terms for the type of people im talking about.

I know we're all getting tired of blocking the same cryptofash accounts that keep remaking over and over again, as well as new ones that find their ways into the periphery of popular posters and have suddenly shoot into popularity until they post something super racist. And a lot of the time it feels so useless and futile, like half the time they have a backup ready to go and the other half just remake in under 24 hours. and like, what does it even do? its not fighting any real world issues, i have no idea what the social effect of having super racist people 3 degrees of separation from everyone on the site actually means, but I know I really fucking dont like it, I know it makes me super uncomfortable to see a mutuals reblog from someone who constantly reblogs and interacts with people that fantasize about beating up trans people on the street.

and now that people like me and some others are getting more and more savvy about noticing cryptofash blogs, it becomes harder and harder to not see how many people i follow that keep me 3 degrees of separation from them.

take ukrainianbimbo for example. they constantly reblog from terfs, transphobes, racists, misogynists and anti-Semites AS WELL as trans people, Jewish people, and people of colour. i blocked them from following me months ago after spending 30 seconds on their blog and recognizing multiple well known tumblr reactionaries. when they noticed i had blocked them and made a couple posts about how easy it is to not follow and reblog from fascists they went on a posting spree whining about how they dont check who they reblog from and why should it be their responsibility. wah wah wah, shut up. anyway, last week they got properly called out for this behaviour and badgrapple came to their defense, going on the dumbest tirade ive ever seen about how theyre sick of fake callouts for people who havent done anything wrong (tell that to your friend ukrainianbimbo who's reaction to being labelled an anti-Semite and a fascist was to triple down on telling a trans jewish woman that she was ugly and should kill herself (both of these things are very untrue shout out Agent, you dont deserve that at all)) and now both of them are going out of their way to interact with more bigots seemingly as a protest for being repressed over hanging with those types in the first place. Fuck off.

All of this then led into people i respect making random vagueposts like "feel like fash is a word being thrown around way too liberally on tumblr these days" and like, yeah, in a way i guess it is, but also people are acting like fascists! crypto fascists specifically because theyre never completely open about their beliefs. fash is shorter and less confusing however (thanks cryptocurrency for that) so thats what people genuinely call them. Why is that a bad thing? If you're posting things that people look at and say "woah dude, you sound like a fascist", maybe thats on you for doing things that other fascists on this site do, not on them for using the "wrong word" for it.

on top of all this though, people HAVE started making up unchecked callouts about people, like Declan smokeweedinbong, who was unfairly called a fascist by someone because declan responded to a comment on his post he didnt background check, thats totally unfair to declan but fuck the reaction from a lot of my mutuals was REALLY WEIRD. people didnt start posting in defense of declan, who again, did nothing wrong but not pay as much attention to a random person as he could have (ive done that too i get it!), but instead people started beating the "cancel culture has gone to far" drum, fucking again. why is that your response?? defend your friends, please! but why is it people who dont want to be exposed to racists and transphobes and anti-Semites ultimately receiving the pushback? its so dumb!

so now half the time i see someone getting an anon about reblogging from a fash, they respond positively but why do they always get follow up anons like "thats dumb who cares, i never look at who i reblog from" like maybe you fucking should?? shut up! people are so fucking stupid on anon it blows me away soemtimes.

i really have no idea where im going with all this, i just really needed to get this frustration of my chest. thanks for reading my run on sentences if you did, and sorry for being somewhat incoherent, i just am so fucking tired of all this, and it doesnt even mean anything. whatever

[festeringfae]

Finding out T*ki* W*tit* not only liked JD's post but liked the post where Kevin Spacey tried to pull "i'm gay" to excuse his assault of Anthony Rapp is like...every time we try to make space to focus solely on the harm that compulsory masculinity has on men, it feels like some shit like this turns up. like, this is why people don't trust or don't cut a break for ensemble casts where there's a "reason" for disproportionate lack of women. it's not due to a lack of nuance. it's because this is the shit that always gets dug up, and when there's smoke there's fucking fire. obviously individual examples need to be weighed on their individual merits, and there are huge problems with women not recognizing the impact of intersecting identities. my issue is I'm concerned that women being reluctant to trust stuff that centers men to the exclusion of women is being conflated with lack of understanding the power dynamic caused by intersecting identities. Tbh that concern may wholly unfounded, I'm just venting my feelings after wanting to just post "there's no hope for men" ala flipping the script on the fiona apple quote to be like "actually there's lots of hope for women, but every time I hope a man might be decent, I learn not to do that," & then got mad at myself for worrying that might look gender essentialist to a completely made-up hypothetical reader in my head (and part of the reason i got mad is because i KNOW having that worry is, ironically, way more demonstrative of latent bigotry than anything else I discussed in this post). Anyway compulsory standard of masculinity to be considered a "real" man= bad, the violence inherent in our society's standards for masculinity= bad, not prioritizing active dismantling of the patriarchy for the sake of women in any narrative or discussion of those things if you're a man= worse, misogynist, bad. also that discussion will be futile.

[jeonsjiddies]

everything i wanted | ksj (m)

⏤  Pairing: Seokjin x reader ⏤  Genre: smut, fluff ⏤  Word Count: ~2k ⏤  Warnings: oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, breast play?

⏤  Summary: Your boyfriend, Seokjin, comforts you and reminds you that you are, and will always be, enough. 

Sitting on the couch in the center of your living room, a thick duvet wrapped around your body, mindless chatter on the TV, and tears slowly streaming down your cheeks, that was how Seokjin found you when he came home. You hadn’t even noticed the quiet click of the lock when he’d opened and shut the door or the rustle of his jacket as he removed it and hung it on the rack. You were too lost in your own little world, too consumed by your emotions to pay attention to your surroundings.

“Baby?” Seokjin had asked cautiously after you hadn’t greeted him.

You jumped slightly, turning to look at your boyfriend, attempting to swipe the tears from your face in an effort to hide the fact that you were crying, but he knew. Seokjin always knew. He could read you like an open book, and most days you were thankful for that, but today you wanted to hide in your blanket burrito and be invisible. 

“Oh, hey, is it that late already? Sorry I haven’t started dinner-” you began with a nervous chuckle but Seokjin shook his head, sitting beside you and rubbing your back soothingly.

“Don’t fret over that, my love. I can cook, or we can order, it doesn’t matter. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, I just think I need a nap,” you lied, kissing his cheek and disappearing into your bedroom.

Jin watched you go, wanting to give you your space and not smother you, but he knew how you were, how you shut yourself off and hid away when you needed someone the most. He sighed, standing up and tidying up a few things around the house, periodically looking towards your closed bedroom door, trying to ignore the way his heart tugged with the need to comfort you.

About a half an hour went by and Jin had cleaned up the apartment, making sure there wasn’t anything you had to do later so you could relax before he tentatively made his way to the bedroom, knocking quietly before letting himself in, silently slotting himself between you and the wall, gently running his fingertips up and down your arm.

“I know you came here to be alone, but I’m not going to let you feel alone. If you want space, that’s fine, I’ll respect that. But I don’t want you to think that I’m not here for you. I love you. If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

You sighed, gulping loudly in a futile attempt to swallow down the tears that were building with Seokjin’s soft gaze landing on you, his gentle touches on your back, his comforting scent. You turned to face him and Jin guided your body to lean into his chest and you melted into his embrace for a moment, your bottom lip trembling before you hid your face in his shirt, your entire body quaking as your tears sprung free once more.

“I’m just so tired, Jinnie…” you sighed, barely audible as you mumbled into the crumpled fabric of his shirt, “I hate my job so much, my boss is such a misogynistic asshole.”

“Why don’t you try to find something else?” 

“I have been, but I’m not getting anywhere. The job market is terrible right now, or maybe I really am just a dumb little girl,” you sighed, quoting one of the many things your boss had screamed in your face earlier in the day. 

“Oh baby, you know that’s not true,” Jin soothed.

“Then why won’t anyone else hire me? Why does my boss hate me so much?”

“Your boss is just a jerk, and like you said, the job market isn’t great right now,” Seokjin said softly, lifting you from his chest to look into your eyes, making sure his next words sunk in, “there is nothing wrong with you. You are just as smart and capable as any male in that office, probably more so.”

“It really feels like there’s something wrong with me when my boss and all his little brown nosers keep putting me down. It just hurts, Jinnie.”

“As long as I’m here no one can hurt you. If I could change the way that you see yourself, you wouldn’t wonder why dear they don’t deserve you.”

“Thank you, Jin. I love you. I’m sorry I’m such a mess lately,” you sighed into his chest.

“You’re not a mess, you’re a human. I love you too. How about we order something from that new pizza place you like?”

"Mmm.. I think I'll keep you," you grinned, snuggling closer to his comforting scent.

“I certainly hope so, ‘cause it’s going to be hard to get rid of me now,” he chuckled, ordering your usual on the app while stroking your hair out of your face with his free hand.

You chuckled, letting his soothing motions calm your frazzled nerves until the pizza came, and Jin went to go get it, bringing it back to your bed and the two of you sitting up, your head on his shoulder as you ate and joked around, smearing pizza sauce across his cheek then leaning in to lick it off, causing Seokjin to fake-gag.

After you’d both eaten and you’d calmed down, wrapped up in the blankets with Seokjin absentmindedly running his fingers up and down your arm, you glanced up at him, your heart expanding as you watched his slow, deep breaths, his eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks, and listened to the soft melody he was humming. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m glad you’re mine,” you whispered into the crook of his neck. 

“Oh baby girl, you deserve the world and more. I’m so glad you’re mine too.” 

You smiled shyly, biting your lip and Seokjin raised an eyebrow at you questioningly. You looked away quickly, sitting up and wiggling out of his grasp to climb on top of him, straddling his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. His brows quirked in interest as his hands instinctively found purchase on your hips. 

“How about I show you just how much I appreciate you?” you purred playfully, one hand reaching up to run your fingers through his hair and gently nudge his head back to give you more room to kiss on his thick, delicious neck. 

“Mmm.. I like the sound of that.”

You smirked against his neck, sliding your hands underneath his shirt and lifting yourself to fling it off of him, then continued to kiss down his golden chest, your tongue circling his sensitive nipples on your journey, causing a soft hiss to escape from his plump lips. Each new patch of skin you got your mouth on was decorated with your red and purple marks of appreciation, Seokjin making delicious, desperate noises below you the closer you got to his ever-hardening length. 

You unbuckled his belt, shooting a seductive glance up at your boyfriend who already looked fucked out. You smiled to yourself before flicking the belt open and ridding your boyfriend of any more fabric that would deny you access to pleasing him. 

You ran your tongue teasingly up the underside of his shaft before wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock, earning a pained groan when you sunk down, taking him as far as you could until his tip hit the back of your throat. 

“Fuck baby. I’m not gonna last if you do that,” he warned breathlessly. 

You hummed against his cock, the vibrations making his hips buck slightly, but that didn’t stop you, you kept bobbing your head up and down and using your hands to massage what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Ugh you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock, you know that? Shit-“

You watched eagerly, drinking in the sight of Seokjin losing himself from your ministrations, head thrown back in pleasure, a sheen of sweat coating his golden skin, making him shine under the bedroom lights. He glanced down and met your eyes, his hand reaching down to hold yours, fingers interlocking. 

You squeezed his hand, gazing up into his eyes, and he watched you with love swimming in his, until his abdomen clenched and he croaked out a needy “close,” to which you hummed in response, sending Seokjin off the edge, his warm seed spilling down your throat. You drank it up and swallowed all of it, licking your lips seductively once you lifted your head, his member leaving your lips with an audible pop. 

Seokjin laid there, breathing ragged, and made a grabbing motion for you, pulling you into his chest and kissing all over your face affectionately. 

“You get better at that every time.”

You giggled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and absentmindedly grinding your hips against his for a little bit of friction, having grown wet at the sound of your boyfriend falling apart for you. 

“Mmm.. is my baby feeling needy?” he teased, his long fingers dancing down your stomach. 

“Can you blame me? You look so fucking hot when you cum.”

“Mmmm.. so are you. I’d love to see it now,” he grinned deviously before climbing over you, slotting his body between your parted thighs, his already semi-hard cock pressing against your mound.

“Ready for round two already?” You raised an eyebrow with a smirk, to which Seokjin just shrugged. 

“I can’t seem to get enough of you.” 

He rolled his hips into yours, emphasizing his statement with proof of his steadily-hardening length against your skin before capturing your lips in a heated kiss, one hand snaking up your side to knead at your breast, gently twisting and pulling them before reaching for the hem of your shirt, tugging it off your body and you exposing your breasts to the cool air. Your nipples hardened even more and Seokjin wrapped his thick lips around them, sucking and rubbing his tongue over the sensitive nubs. 

“Mmm.. Jinnie just like that,” you encouraged breathlessly, “always so good with your mouth.”

“Oh baby what I wouldn’t give to show you what my mouth could do to you, but I really want to make love to you right now. Rain check?”

“Of course, we have forever baby.”

Jin smiled down at you like you hung the stars in the sky( leaving a gentle peck on your nose before tugging your bottoms off along with your panties, tossing them aside and slipping one long finger through your folds.

“You’re dropping. You think you’re ready?”

“Always ready for you, Mr. Kim.” 

Your boyfriend smirked at the name, one eyebrow raising in interest. You blew him a kiss and he rolled his eyes playfully before lining his member up with your pussy, slowly pushing in until he was buried to the hilt inside your right, wet heat. 

“How do you still feel so tight every time?”

“How do you still feel so damn big every time?”

He just smirked at you, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips as he began to move his hips, slowly thrusting in and out of you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to ground yourself and Jin began to speed up the movement of his hips, his soft slow thrusts turning faster, harder, more desperate. He leaned down to nibble on your ear, allowing his hot breath to ghost across it as he whispered.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, so so much.” 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your impending high, not with Seokjin knowing your body like the back of his hand, his expert thrusts and kisses and wandering hands bringing you to the edge of bliss in no time. 

“I’m gonna-“ you croaked out, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

One harsh thrust from Seokjin paired with the enthusiastic sucking of your nipple sent you over the edge, your orgasm nearly consuming you. Seokjin worked you through your high, and soon after came himself, his warm seed filling your bettered hole.

You both watched in fascination when he pulled out, the thick cum leaking out of your pussy and onto your thighs. Jin quickly grabbed a damp washcloth and cleaned you up, gently rubbing the cloth through your folds to wipe away the mess he’d made from your delicate skin before tossing it in the hamper and climbing into bed beside you.

Snuggled up to your boyfriends naked, slightly sweaty body, you felt more at peace than you had in ages. You were satiated in every way possible and you knew the only person who could fill you up in every sense of the word was Seokjin. 

“I love you, Jin. Thank you for always being there. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

“I love you too, baby.”