#just because there’s a lot of female representation

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Has anyone tried to cancel and ban Dungeon Meshi for the explicit racism present in the show? Not saying it should be, it was just a bit of a conflict I've seen from people thinking the characters being racist meant the series as a whole is, and I'm a bit surprised if it hasn't reached this blog lol

(Senshi especially he has a lot of bias he's yet to overcome LMAO)

Not specifically for racism. However, dungeon meshi characters have been targeted for a variety of other reasons including because they're blonde and someone sent me a very extensive list of blonde characters they think should be banned because that reinforces what European ethnic colonial beauty standards. I will be posting the full list sometime soon.

Basically all the female characters because it goes against the spirit of the manga to sexualize them in any way including in these polls.

Laios specifically for being a bad representation of autism. He's also blonde

Marcille and Falin for being bad representations of lesbians. Also blondes

Chimera Falin because when she becomes a chimera, she loses all bodily autonomy and can no longer consent to us, the viewer, sexualizing her. I wish I was making this up. That essay is a treat. It will be the subject of Fandoms vs Illiteracy very soon

Chilchuck for being a bad father.

Izutsumi for being 17 and a cat so she also can't consent to being sexualized. For some reason this is the character people throw tantrums about and will be the one that gets the fandom put in time out

No one has complained about Senshi other than the Senshi sweep meme is getting annoying. I guess right now he has pretty privilege

[wyvernne]

the sumeru archon quest???? help????????

[angellic-critique]

Oh yeah, Angel Dust has a sister, her name's Molly, there are a bunch of speed drawings with her.

Anon I think you are the only fan of Molly as I have not sent her be mentioned outside of 2017.

Genuinely thought that Molly was like Niffty/Vaggie situationship because I had NO fucking clue what stance Molly even was outside of just looking at a distant glance over definitely not realizing that was what happened to the past 'Angel Dust Drag'..... The fact that it personifies into a woman that is barely mentioned [much like angel representing or doing drag in the first place], turned into fucking THIS????

I cant even begin to comprehend.... She speaks for herself honestly. You can tell that viv genuinely did not give a fuck about the implications here or the lazy design that is 'Hmm angel dust but pink girly'

I feel like she just became cut content considering there hasn't ever been a mention about angels' family besides his Arackniss

Kinda weird how angel is more focused and put down upon in the spotlight more with Valentino and less with his 1930s mobster Italian spider persona :/ Even attempting to make a different womanly character known as the sister of angel dust, she is still tied down to him and has nothing besides this rainbow vomit old design.

How could I not be confused over angels' stance on dragging while VIV can't even fucking make characters up for him without retconning over herself!

You want this mess of a character design to be made but not Baxter???? I'm baffled. Thanks for bringing this horrid 'writing' decision to my notice. Since viv doesn't give a single lick of sense about Molly I too did not realize that Molly was supposed to be the hyper feminized pink eyesore that was SUPPOSED to be Angel's DRAG PERFORMING CARICATURE???

Your ask has the exact same amount of punch as telling me that Blitz has a sister, they are underwritten to be one of the same since they're women obviously Viv just doesn't like writing women ! :/

[lonely--seeker]

For a while I've been meaning to watch or read something with a female protagonist that I like, and i was so frustrated about it until I remembered I never finished Amphibia! And also, more importantly, I finally watched Inside Job instantly falling in love with Reagan the moment she said "suck my dick"

[stromblessed]

Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show:

[navybrat817]

Just Like That

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier. Word Count: Almost 5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.

If only that were the case.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.

“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.

You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?

Right.

You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.

Just the two of you.

“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”

“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”

“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.

He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.

Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?

Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.

“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.

“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”

You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?

“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.

He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”

You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”

With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”

“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.

“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”

“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.

Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”

“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.

The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.

Not that you had to do any acting on your part.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.

“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.

The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.

Again, he had to play the part right.

You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.

Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.

And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.

Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.

Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”

You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.

“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”

You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.

Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”

“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”

“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.

“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.

He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”

“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.

“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.

In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.

Just an agent being kind to another agent.

Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”

Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.

Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.

Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”

“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.

Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.

He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”

“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”

He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.

His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.

“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.

“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.

The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”

It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.

“I’m curious,” he shrugged.

“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”

“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”

You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”

“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.

You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”

Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”

Oh, fuck.

The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”

“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”

“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”

Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.

He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.

You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.

You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.

Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.

Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.

“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.

Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-

The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.

And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.

“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”

He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”

“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”

“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”

You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.

He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”

“Why not?”

“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”

“Of course,” he whispered.

You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”

A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”

You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”

Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.

“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”

“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”

He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.

You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.

You never stood a chance.

“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”

Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”

A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.

He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.

Like he wanted to own you.

His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.

Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.

You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.

“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”

You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.

And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.

“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.

“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?

He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”

Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.

His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”

“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.

“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”

It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”

He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.

You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.

“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.

Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.

Crave him.

“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”

Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.

You’d take whatever he gave you.

The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.

“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.

“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.

One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.

“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”

“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”

He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.

You didn't want him to let you go.

“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”

He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.

The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.

You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.

“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.

“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.

Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.

“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.

“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”

“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.

“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”

“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”

“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.

Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”

I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[genderkoolaid]

do you have any thoughts on why there's such a huge disparity in the number of trans feminine headcanons for canon guys, as opposed to the trans masculine headcanons for canon girls?

i'm not trying to start anything, just kinda looking for a opinion from someone who's usually got pretty good insight and takes on stuff like this.

My thoughts rn are that its a combo of

There seem to be more femboy characters that are extremely feminine out there than there are butch women characters that are extremely masculine (or even really that butch...)

Femininity is seen as more interesting in the "oooh shiny!" sense than masculinity. Turning a man into a beautiful woman has a sense of allure because the end product is Pretty Thing, while turning a woman into a man, even a handsome man, is in the eyes of misogyny just ruining the Pretty Thing

In leftist spaces, turning a male character into a woman tends to create less conflict than the reverse? This isn't black and white obviously, there's been whole discourses about transfems "stealing rep" from feminine cis men. But from a cisfeminist perspective, making a male character transfem means you take an otherwise privileged character and use them to create rep for women, specifically marginalized women. The reverse, however, means taking female representation and making them male, which creates a lot of complex questions around marginalization and how transmascs fit into the schema. And generally when transmascs make people have complicated confusing feelings they don't react well.

Transmasculine erasure means that people just straight up do not think about transmasculinity and that covers a range of sins.

But that's what I've thought could be behind the disparity. I think its probably largely subconscious too, and there could be a whole ton of other things influencing that data so don't take this too seriously.

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Vivzepops fetishization of queer men and the lack of Sapphic content in HH and HB

I found it a bit dissapointing that Charlie and Vaggie had very little interactions that could be read as romantic or sexual, especially since they are the supposedly the main couple of Hazbin Hotel and have been together the longest out of most of the couples in HH and HB.

Of course having more casual representation is also fine but the most memorable thing about their relationship was the quickly resolved argument they had when Charlie found out about Vaggies past. I've seen different opinions about how they were handled as a pair.

I understand when someone says that they enjoyed a more relaxed couple with subtle, realistic interactions, interactions that are often overlooked just because both characters are female.

But I can also agree, that they were really not a stand-out couple (wich is weird since Charlie is the main Character) and that it was a bit dissapointing to not see a lot of content for them.

Now the main issue I found with this is that in Vivzepops stories there is a definitive lack of sapphic content. It sometimes seems like women are sexless unless they are with a man. But two men can be sexual and openly affectionate (romantically too). At first I didn't really understand why I felt weird about Chaggie as a couple, so I looked at all the implied/canon ships in Helluva and Hazbin (including past relationships).

Implied/canon couples between a man and a woman:

-Millie and Moxxie

-Blitzø and Verosika

-Stolas and Stella

-Millie and Chaz

-Beelzebub and Vortex

-Sir Pentious and Cherry Bomb

-Adam and Lute

-Lucifer and Lilith

Implied/canon couples between two men:

-Stolas and Blitzø

-Asmodeus and Fizzarolli

-Moxxie and Chaz

-Angel Dust and Husk

-Vox and Valentino

Implied/canon couples between two women:

-Charlie and Vaggie

Now please tell me if I missed any, but these were the ones I could think of.

Honorable mentions include Loona & Vortex, Blitzø & Striker, Blitzø & Chaz and Blitzø & Fizzarolli. But I didn't put these on there because they're either one-sided or don't have enough romantic content.

Now it's very easy to see the difference between representation for queer men in comparison to queer women in these shows. The only relevant (im not counting Background characters) Sapphic relationship there is, is Chaggie. And it's completely underrepresented when compared to the content the man x woman or man x man ships get (not to mention the total absence of gender-queer characters).

One of Millie's and Moxxie's jokes is that they're so in love, that they're almost always cuddling, holding hands, talking sweet or just straight up making out with eachother (I'll talk about Millie a bit later). Sir Pentious had multiple scenes dedicated to him trying to confess to Cherry Bomb or just crushing on her in general.

Stolas' and Blitzø's relationship has become one of the main topics of Helluva Boss and they get a Backstory and explicit aswell as dramatic scenes for them as a couple. The same goes for Asmodeus and Fizzarolli (except that their love isn't as important). Angel Dust and Husk get a song and part of an episode for their relationship to develop.

Here i'd also have to mention that by the list I made Vivzepop's fetish for queer men is very prevalent. Most of the couples between men and women are either past relationships or they get very little attention to them. The only ships that often get special focus, development or explicitly romantic/sexual focus are ships with two men (no matter if their dynamics are even good, healthy etc.).

Now for Millie there are different ways you could talk about her situation with relationships. In general I think that everyone can agree that Millie lacks Character and is a good representation for the neglect of the female characters. Most of her moments revolve around Moxxie in a way and she hasn't had precise characterization so far.

Millie's relationship with Moxxie is sweet and simple and is generally one of the better things about Helluva Boss (if you ignore Millies lack of personality wich really pulls the couple down for me). Now the Episode "Exes and Oohs" shows the mutual Ex of Millie and Moxxie. Chaz dated both of them and as we see in the episode affected both of them very negatively. At the start we literally see Millie freak out and destroy a bunch of stuff, just because she saw Chaz on the street.

Yet Millie's relationship with him is never explored further. All we know is that she dislikes him and that he's a giant asshole. Whereas Moxxie get's a whole Backstory and episode plot about him and Chaz. No focus is given to Millie at all even though Chaz is the ex of BOTH of them.

Another thing that I wanna point out is Millie's possible Bisexuality. Now im not so sure for this point because I couldn't find genuine confirmation on wether Millie is actually confirmed to be Bisexual or if it's just a headcannon. So take this with a grain of salt BUT if Millie is Bisexual then she perfectly shows how little Vivzepop cares about Sapphic representation. What does Moxxie get to confirm him as Bisexual? An ex of the same gender (also multiple explicit flashbacks with him), a whole discussion about his queer identity and a scene where he literally says that he's Bisexual. Moxxie is pretty good Bisexual representation in that regard.

What does Millie get? Nothing. Again I don't know if she's genuinely also Bisexual or if it's ever been confirmed but it'd also be pretty weird if Vivzepop apparently cares so much about queer representation and then doesn't confirm any female characters as actually queer.

I think a lot of people have talked about her blatant fetishization of queer men and I think that that's also mainly why I feel weird by the lack of attention on Vaggie and Charlie as a couple.

I sorta wish I could enjoy a more toned-down and realistic couple in these shows, but when I see that a ship like Vox and Alastor (wich isn't canon nor would it even happen since Alastor is Aroace) is talked about more than the actual main character's relationship I just don't like it.

There's so much more you could say about poor queer representation by Vivzepop (like the fact that she's fine with people ignoring Alastors Aroace identity, and the stereotypes etc) I mainly wanted to talk about the neglect of her female cast in terms of sexuality.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 35 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You arrive home to your husband and a visual representation of how much he loves you. Your house is filled with treats to make you smile, and the attic has been ripped apart to start accommodating your new addition. The way Bradley loves you and the baby makes everything even more exciting. But as much as things are changing, they are also staying the same. 

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff, smut, oral sex

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

When you woke up, you were afraid you were still on the flight home to San Diego. You desperately wanted to stop throwing up. Your ribs were starting to ache from it, and your back was sore from hunching over the toilet. But the unique smell of a new car filled your nose as you opened your eyes, and you knew you were in the red Bronco. 

"Roo?" you groaned, reaching for him but accidentally hitting the vase full of flowers that was for some reason in the cup holder instead.

"We're home," he replied right away as he pulled into the driveway. "I'm with you, and we're home."

You whimpered in response as you saw the front window of the craftsman glowing with a cozy orange light. The week in Annapolis had been one of the longest of your life, but you were home. And Tramp was here, and so was your own bed and your bathtub.

Bradley knew you were crying again before you did, and he swiped at your tears as soon as he turned the engine off. "It's okay, Sweetheart. Let's go inside." You made some sort of pitiful sounding noise, and a few seconds later, Bradley was carrying you up to the porch. "I'll go back out for your stuff. Are you hungry? I think you should try to drink more ginger ale or maybe a seltzer or gatorade."

You just gasped as he took you inside; every surface was covered in unlit candles and yellow flowers. Even in just the soft glow from the lamp on the end table, everything looked exceptionally romantic. "Bradley." 

He kissed your cheek and continued toward the kitchen while Tramp followed along whimpering for you. But the kitchen was more of the same. Your husband must have gone grocery shopping without you, because there was a little box of pastries and different snacks and more flowers lining the counter. He set you down and held your face gently in his hands. "What can I get you to drink?"

Your lip quivered as you looked up into his brown eyes. "You made everything so romantic."

He sighed and kissed your forehead softly. Then his lips found your nose and then your cheek before ending up on yours. "What can I say, Baby Girl? I missed you. Both of you. A lot."

You thought back to the way you were begging for him and his cock when you talked to him on the phone, but right now you could barely stand up after the horrible flight home. "I don't think I can be romantic right now. I feel disgusting."

He smiled against your lips. "This is peak romance to me. Yeah, I was going to light some candles and feed you some snacks and let you take the lead, but all I really wanted all week was you. Here. At home. With me."

You kissed him deeply, and then let your cheek come to rest on his chest while your stomach churned softly. "I love it. The flowers are beautiful. And can you leave the candles out until tomorrow?"

He nodded and kissed your ear. "I won't put them away yet. Now can you tell me what you want to drink? I just want to dote on you and the nugget all weekend."

You smiled and whispered, "Gatorade." Next thing you knew, there were several chilled bottles lined up on the counter for you to choose from. Bradley opened the orange one and put the rest away, and then you saw the refrigerator door. He had hung up the ultrasound photos in the shape of a heart, and you couldn't stop smiling. He went to the pastry box and broke off part of a croissant and held it out for you to nibble on. When you nodded he fed you more until you shook your head.

Then he helped you into the shower, and it took almost no convincing to get him to join you. "I want you with me," you said, and he started taking his shirt off. A minute later, there was a discarded pile of clothing on the floor, but the two of you were under the steamy spray. You washed his hair for him even though your body felt physically exhausted, and he melted into your touch. "You really missed me, huh?" you joked softly.

His eyes were closed, and he grunted softly before he said, "I miss you when you go out to brunch while I play golf. I miss you when I don't see you for eight hours at work. I miss you when you spend seven hundred hours at Costco without me. But this week was unbearable, Sweetheart. Let's not do it again."

When he didn't even mention being deployed for weeks and weeks on end, you relaxed a little more. You pressed your lips together as his big hands settled on your belly. "The nugget is already calmer with you around," you informed him. "The baby definitely prefers you."

He kissed you and rinsed off all the soap and shampoo. "Yeah, well the nugget and I are about to have a conversation once we get in bed."

You brushed your teeth and removed your contacts, and Bradley already had his UVA shirt ready for you. A couple minutes later, you were in bed with your fingers tangled in his damp hair while he pushed the shirt up so he could kiss your belly. 

"What did I tell you about being nicer to Mommy?" His lips found your belly button, and his breath was warm on your skin as he said, "She's the best fucking thing in the world."

"Don't teach the baby bad words," you mumbled as you set your glasses aside.

He kissed along to your dainty rooster tattoo and traced it with the tip of his nose. "Nah, that's what Aunt Natasha is for," he said, and you giggled as he kissed you everywhere. 

"Roo?" you asked with a yawn.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for taking care of me."

"It's literally my favorite thing to do."

----------------------------

Bradley didn't realize just how poorly he had been sleeping until he ended up staying in bed with you until almost noon on Saturday, finally feeling refreshed. When you woke up and immediately reached for him, he scooped you up in his arms and rolled you onto your back. 

"I'm hungry," you whispered as your stomach started growling loudly while he kissed you.

"Hi, Hungry. I'm Bradley," he replied with a smirk as his fingers brushed along your belly.

Your eyes lit up with mirth as you gasped. "Oh my god! That was your first dad joke!"

He chuckled against your neck. "I'm going to be so fucking good at this shit."

"The nugget already likes you better," you whispered as he started to kiss his way down your chest over the shirt. Bradley paused with his hand tucked beneath the fabric, fingers stroking your side softly as he looked at you.

"You said that yesterday, too. I don't like it when you say that."

When you swallowed hard and turned your face away, you whispered, "I swear it's true."

"No," he said sharply. "This is just because the first trimester is filled with so many changes in your hormones. After the nugget is born, he or she is going to take one look at you and realize they have the most perfect Mommy. I've already written about it in my Nugget Notebook."

He nodded his chin toward the pink and blue notebook on his nightstand, and you asked, "What else did you write about?"

He hummed and pressed his lips to your rooster tattoo, earning a little squirm from you. "I wrote a little about Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose. I talked about how you and I met, and how I fell in love with you. I told the nugget I never really thought about having kids before I met their mommy."

"Roo," you sighed softly as he brushed his mustache along your soft skin, his cheek coming to rest on your hip.

Your stomach rumbled softly as he asked, "Want me to make you some peanut butter toast and some hot tea for breakfast?"

Slowly yet intentionally, you started to slide your legs apart along the fitted sheet where Bradley was laying halfway on top of them. He propped himself up and met your gaze as you said, "In a couple minutes."

He kissed your tattoo again as he tried not to grin. "Hmm. Anything you think you might want before that, Sweetheart?"

You bit your lip and turned your head to the side as he placed his palm on the top of your thigh. Bradley listened to the deep intake of your breath before you let it out slowly and asked, "Will you go down on me?"

He had his lips pressed to your pussy before you finished the sentence, both hands on the backs of your thighs as he spread your legs wide enough to accommodate his broad shoulders. "Gorgeous," he whispered, his mustache feather light against your slick slit as you squirmed and whimpered his name, pressing yourself up for more. 

With a smile, Bradley parted you with his tongue, taking the time to remind you just how much he missed you. "Thought about you all week long, Baby Girl," he said after pulling your clit briefly between his lips. He plucked you a few more times as you moaned. "You're perfect," he promised, teasing your opening with his fingertip. "I missed you."

Then he took the time to taste every bit of you, his tongue swiping down to your ass as you begged him for more. He spread your wetness all over and when he made his way back up to focus on your clit, your fingers were in his hair. "I missed you, too," you managed before your voice broke softly as he sucked on you. "I was so horny all week, but nothing is as good as you."

Bradley smirked and sucked a little harder, leading you directly to your orgasm, showing you just how much better he was than your toys or your own hands. Reminding you that you'd never have it this good anywhere else. When you started to thrust against his face, he let his hands slide up to your waist. 

He waited until you were coming on his tongue and crying out before rubbing his nose along your clit and grunting, "I wanna fuck you."

You yanked so hard on his hair, he saw stars for a second, but he took your lead and kissed your mouth as he pushed his cock inside you. You were so wet and tight, he knew he'd only last a few thrusts, especially with the way you were squeezing him as your orgasm started to taper off. And then he was right there with you as you licked his mouth clean of your decadent taste and let your fingers snag in his messy hair. 

"Fuck," he grunted, driving into you with a few final thrusts before he filled you up with his cum. You looked so perfectly sated beneath him as you licked your own lips and gazed up at him.

When he stopped moving, his hips finally settling against yours, you looked a little bashful as you said, "I think I needed you before I needed breakfast." Your stomach was growling a little louder now, and Bradley knew he needed to get some toast in your belly to keep the baby happy. 

"Well," he rasped, "this was my breakfast, and I'll have it again for lunch and dinner if you let me." He slid away from you and stood next to your side of the bed, his head still a little fuzzy as he glanced down at his soft, glistening cock. With your legs still spread wide, he could see his cum working its way out of your tight pussy as you chewed on your lip dreamily. "Come on, Baby Girl," he crooned, reaching for you and guiding both of you into the kitchen. "I'll take care of all of your appetites."

------------------------

You were practically shaking with happiness as you nibbled on a crunchy piece of toast slathered with a thick layer of peanut butter and sprinkled with chocolate chips. Your entire kitchen was decorated with the yellow flowers that Bradley got, and you noticed the refrigerator was randomly filled with steaks. 

"What's this for?" you asked him as he made himself some coffee. "It looks like you spend two hundred bucks on steaks?"

"I did," he confirmed, still completely naked from your activities a little while ago. "You really seemed to enjoy that dinner you had in Annapolis. I just thought you might want to try to replicate it here," he said a bit bashfully. "I mean, I could try to help you cook them if you want." You smiled, knowing full well he was more hesitant to admit he spent too much money on food that you'd have to cook for yourself than he was to parade around with nothing on.

"You're the best," you told him, tucking yourself against his chest and admiring the flowers on the island as he sipped his coffee. Then your gaze caught on a thin strip of drywall that was propped up next to the stairs. "Where did that come from?"

"Hmm?" Bradley hummed casually, his lips pressed to the top of your head.

"Is that drywall?"

"Oh. Uh... yes. I must have missed that piece when I was throwing all of it away."

You looked up at him, concern written on your face. "What do you mean by all of it?"

He kissed your nose a few times and said, "Now don't get upset, okay? It's not good for the nugget."

"Bradley."

He swallowed and said, "I got a little bored and anxious while the two of you were gone, and I kind of dismantled the attic."

"What?" You took off toward the stairs. When Bradley bought the Craftsman, you'd been with him every step of the way. You both looked at the house together, and you were there when he closed on it. He had his arm draped over your shoulders the first time he walked inside once he owned the place. You and he both knew the attic would eventually need an overhaul to grow from a sad little workspace into a usable bedroom or two. But now you were afraid to see what he did in your absence.

"Sweetheart, wait," he called out, wrapping his arms around you from behind before you could even put your foot on the first step. He kissed your cheek and said, "There could be a nail or something sharp on the floor that I missed when I cleaned up. Please, put some shoes on first."

You jammed your feet into your combat boots which were next to the front door, and Bradley did the same with his. Then he followed you upstairs, still in all of his naked glory, and watched you look around at the complete demolition job he did to the space. There was no flooring, no drywall, nothing.

"There used to be a half wall right here," you said, waving your arms. "I thought we were going to call a contractor."

"I did," he confirmed, standing there with his hands on his hips, kind of shrugging. "After I took everything down to the studs. But maybe they'll cut out some of the cost for the demolition since I already did it?" he muttered as his cheeks grew a little pink. "I just got excited about the idea of your parents having their own space when they visit, you know? And maybe one day, the nugget can have their bedroom up here. After they grow out of the nursery downstairs."

"Roo," you moaned, launching yourself into his arms. He welcomed you there as you whispered, "I'm sorry you were anxious enough while I was gone that you had the urge to completely dismantle the space up here." His sparse chest hair felt coarse against your face, but it was soothing to you anyway. "But I'm excited about this space. And I'm happy you called a contractor. And also, you look sinfully sexy in nothing but your boots, and I'm really horny again already."

"Oh," he rasped, and you could feel him reacting to you almost immediately. "Well, what do you know... so am I."

Then you and your husband had sex in the attic for the first time.

--------------------------

After a lovely steak dinner on Saturday night, which Bradley dutifully helped you make, you took a bath in your luxurious tub. He made sure the water wasn't too hot for the nugget, and then you lured him into the bath with you. All of the candles you'd noticed yesterday were now glowing, and a cluster of them had found their way to the bathroom counter. 

"I liked tonight's dinner a lot better than the one I had with Commander Patterson," you whispered as Bradley ran his soapy hands along your shoulders and kissed your ear.

"Trust me, Sweetheart, if I ever run into Derek, he's getting what he has coming to him."

You gasped. "How do you know his name is Derek?"

"I have my ways," he murmured, letting his fingers trail down along your body beneath the water. After you remained silent, wondering how on earth he had that information, he added, "You let it slip over the phone."

"Did I?" you asked. But you shouldn't have been too surprised. You kept forgetting little things here and there. Your hormones were hitting you hard in a variety of ways, and you'd just about had enough of it. 

"Mmhmm. If he ever comes to Top Gun, it's on."

You knew he was at least partially serious, so you didn't bring it up again. Instead, you let Bradley pull you out of the tub when you started to shiver, and he helped you get ready for bed. "I didn't throw up once today," you said with a smile as you curled up with your cheek on his chest. "The nugget always behaves when you're around."

Bradley kissed the top of your head and cradled your body against his. "If the nugget doesn't start to shape up, I'll have a little discussion with him or her." 

Just as he reached for the lamp on his nightstand, you asked him softly, "Will you read a little bit to me from the Nugget Notebook?"

You weren't sure if his musings were even really meant for you, but he agreed and picked up the pink and blue notebook from next to the bed, leaving the light on in the process. Bradley cleared his throat and started to read. His written words were enough to make you melt, and the deep rasp of his voice comforted you like nothing else could. 

"I hate to break it to you, little nugget, but you're related to some of the coolest people I ever met in my life. Sounds great, doesn't it? I suppose it is. The only downside is the fact that you won't get to meet them for yourself. But that's where I come in, so don't worry about it too much. 

Let's start with your Grandma Carole. Now she had a real talent for always knowing how to cheer people up. Even when she was having a hard day herself, she still saved a smile and a kiss just for me. She was one of the sweetest people around. She was smart, funny and honest, too. But I think if there's one thing of hers that I'd like to pass down to you, it would be Carole's sweetness.

Next we have your Grampy Goose. Don't worry, his name wasn't really Goose. It was Nick. Now this is going to be a little harder for me to write about, simply because I didn't get very much time with him myself, but I know for a fact that Goose could bring a smile to even the most serious faces."

You dozed off, dreaming about a world in which you got to meet your husband's parents. Where you could take your child to spend time with them. Get to know them without visiting the cemetery in Virginia. 

When you woke up, it was to the sound of your alarm while Bradley had you wrapped up with his long arms and his legs. "Roo," you muttered, but he held on.

"Don't want you to go to brunch," he whispered. "Stay in bed."

Goosebumps rose along your arms as you thought about spending the entire day snuggled up with him like this. "I need to go see Cam and Maria," you mumbled. Your stomach growled so you added, "And eat avocado toast."

Bradley groaned and rolled away from you. "At least you're hungry. Go have fun with your friends."

"Do you want me to bring anything back for you?"

He snorted as you climbed out of bed. "Yeah. You and the nugget. ASAP."

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "God, you're sweet. Just like Carole. The nugget will inherit that trait, too."

You watched your husband blush as he snuggled under the blanket and tracked you with his eyes as you got ready to go out. Your stomach was feeling pretty good, but you knew you were tempting fate if you decided to wait to eat something at the restaurant. You made yourself a piece of toast and finished it before you climbed into your red Bronco and headed out to your usual spot while Bradley lounged in bed.

After you parked, you saw some texts from Jake asking how you were feeling and also asking if you and Bradley could watch Jeremiah one night. That sounded like a good sign that things had worked out okay between him and Uncle Bernie. When you saw Cat at work tomorrow, that would be the first thing you asked her, but for now you typed back to Jake. You didn't think Bradley would mind if you agreed to watch Jer. Frankly, the two of you could use the practice.

"Hey!" Cam called out as soon as you walked inside. "Hurry up, I'm starving."

You rolled your eyes as you made your way over to the table and scooted into the seat next to him. "You're always hungry," you mumbled as he handed you a menu even though you both knew exactly what you'd be ordering. "Where's Maria?"

"Late," Cam grumbled. "If she brings Bob with her again, I'll be so annoyed. I need a hot aviator in my life."

And that's when you saw her through the side window. You smacked Cam's bicep and silently pointed to where Maria was standing out on the sidewalk, snaking her arm up around Bob's neck. They were talking. They were just talking. Until they weren't. Bob leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. Then it was over, and you were kind of shocked as Maria made her way inside the restaurant. 

"They're fucking," Cam whispered harshly, smacking your thigh repeatedly under the table as she made her way over like absoltuely nothing just happened out on the sidewalk.

"I can't believe they are hooking up," you hissed, grabbing his hand and shoving it back to his lap just as Maria strolled over to the table.

"Morning," she practically sang. "How was Annapolis?"

"I went to Waffle House," you blurted out like a weirdo. "And a cemetery."

She laughed and picked up her menu. "I was more interested in how your presentation went, but I do love a good Waffle House breakfast."

You and Cam were both silent for a few beats before he quickly and loudly asked, "How long have you been fucking Bob?"

She was looking back and forth between the two of you with her mouth hanging open. "Well... listen... it's not my fault he's so funny and sweet and smells so good!"

That was proof enough for you, but she was practically gushing with details, and you couldn't wait to get home and tell Bradley.

-----------------------------

"Maria and Bob are sleeping together! In the same bed! And having sex!" you announced as soon as you walked in the front door. "Oh, and Cam and Maria say hi."

Bradley looked up from the notebook where he was sitting on the couch and said, "Yeah, I forgot to tell you about that."

"How did you know?"

As you settled on the couch with your head resting on his thigh, Bradley let his hand come up to your belly. "I ran into Bob one morning last week, and it couldn't have been more obvious, Baby Girl."

You yawned and snuggled in. "You should have told me," you scolded softly. "I saw them kissing. It was the sweetest thing in the world."

Bradley stroked your soft skin as you started to doze. "Nah. You're the sweetest thing in the world." A smile curled along your lips as he juggled the Nugget Notebook to his other thigh and continued to write, this time about how much he loved you.

He let you sleep until you woke on your own and suggested the two of you take a beach walk with Tramp. You were gorgeous, practically glowing in the August sunlight, and that's when Bradley realized it was two years ago almost to the day since the first time he saw you. Since he met the woman who changed his life. You were currently talking about work as you held his hand and smiled as you pulled him along the sand, but he dug his heels in until you came to a stop.

"Roo?" you asked, looking up at him as Tramp pulled on the leash in his other hand. 

Two years. He'd spent over a dozen years before that going through the same routine every day but essentially gaining nothing in the process. Work and women and hitting the bar. Shit. Then you had him tearing his life down to the studs just like the attic the first time he laid eyes on you. All he wanted to do was make himself good enough so you'd keep looking at him and smiling at him just like you were right now.

"What's wrong?" you asked, reaching up to touch the scars on his cheek. Your hand was gentle and soft, and he covered it with his own so you'd keep it right where it was. He had a family again. Something he'd given up on until he met you, but then you made impossible things seem possible again. You loved him in spite of himself, or maybe because of himself. You took the loneliness away.

"Nothing's wrong, Sweetheart," he promised, mesmerized by the sunlight on your face. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you. Of course that's when you pulled your hand free from his cheek, made a miserable face and ran for the trash can at the beach path entrance. Bradley rubbed your back as you threw up and moaned about how much the nugget didn't like avocados. 

Then he took you home and attempted to replicate the steak dinner again after you took another nap. He thought he did a pretty decent job with minimal help. The two of you shared a plate, and you sat on his lap while Tramp begged for some scraps. "You ready to go back to work tomorrow?" he asked as you ate some garlic mashed potatoes that weren't quite as creamy as when you made them.

"No," you groaned. "I just want to sleep. But I'm sure Bickel will want to meet so we can fill him in on everything from Annapolis."

He kissed your cheek and whispered, "Maybe we can drive in together tomorrow? Just to spend a little extra time together in the morning?"

You dropped your fork and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You're so sweet, Roo. I can't handle it right now when I'm this horny!"

His eyes went wide as you reached for the front of his shorts. "Holy hell," he groaned, setting his own fork down as you touched him. "I might have to visit you at lunchtime tomorrow, yeah?"

"Please," you whined, your voice just making him harder. 

Bradley would never get enough of you. The fact that you demanded a quickie during dinner before returning to your food made his head spin. The fact that you sat on the piano bench with him when you were both done eating while he played a few songs for the nugget made him smile. The fact that you and he were going to be parents left him breathless. 

The ride to work in the red Bronco the next morning consisted of some serious hand holding while you drank a can of ginger ale while he drove. "I can't wait for the next appointment with Dr. Morris," he whispered as he kissed your knuckles. "I want some more ultrasound photos."

You laughed as you looked up at both visors which were practically covered with the little baby pictures. "You didn't get enough last time?"

"We need more," he said firmly. "We can tell your parents pretty soon, and then we can tell everyone else. I want to hand the photos out like cigars."

You were still laughing as he parked in the garage on base, and you walked into the building holding hands. He had fifteen minutes until his work hours technically started, and he didn't really care who saw. Bradley kissed you next to the elevators with everything he had, letting you taste his mouth while he worshipped yours. "Go wow Bickel, Baby Girl. I'll come find you at lunchtime, okay?"

You nodded, and Bradley patted your ass as you finally got in the elevator to take you up to your lab. On the way to the locker room, he ran into Jake and Cat who appeared to be doing what you and he had been doing by the elevators. Bradley tried to sneak quietly past, but Cat saw him and pulled away from Jake who whined in response. 

"Morning," Cat said to Bradley as she walked away from Jake with a satisfied little smile. 

"Wow," Jake drawled as he watched her disappear around the corner. "Thanks for ruining the best part of my day, Bradshaw."

He chuckled as Jake followed him into the locker room. "It's not like you won't see her later."

"I won't," Jake whined. "Not alone anyway. She and I are taking Jeremiah to the movies with Hondo."

Bradley pulled a clean flight suit from this locker and started to get undressed. "So things went well between you and Uncle Bernie last week?"

Jake hummed as he yanked his own shirt off. "You could say that. We've come to a bit of an understanding. I understand that he's protective of Cat, and he understands that I'm not fucking going anywhere."

Bradley thought back to just a few months ago when Hondo was running Jake ragged with countless push ups and sprints. "Next thing I know, you'll be asking her and Jeremiah to move in with you."

"Oh, I already did that," Jake replied easily as he zipped his flight suit over his undershirt. "Yesterday."

Bradley stood there in his compression shorts and tank top. "And?" he asked, gesturing for more information. He loved being on the cutting edge of these things ahead of you, and he knew for a fact that Cat was like a steel trap in comparison to loose-lipped Jake. 

Jake shrugged with some annoyance on his face. "She said it's too soon. Then she told me how much she loves me. Then she gave me a blowjob. And now this morning she's making out with me like she can't stand to be apart. So... I don't really know what's up. But I've got plenty of space for both of them at my place, unlike at Hondo's." 

When Jake slammed his locker door, Bradley felt apologetic for putting a damper on his good mood. "You haven't been together for very long," he said cautiously. 

Jake rolled his eyes as he sat to put his boots on. "Longer than you and Angel were together before you bought her a house."

Oof. He was actually right about that one. "Yeah, but there's a kid involved, you know?"

Jake stood and smirked. "You've got one of those now, too."

Bradley looked around with wide eyes. "Keep it fucking quiet," he hissed, but Jake just laughed. 

"The only person with razor sharp hearing is Nat, and if she can hear me all the way from the ladies' room, then good for her," he replied. "See you in the hangar."

Bradley stood there for a few extra seconds in silence before finally pulling on his flight suit. Then he dug around in his locker until he found the ultrasound picture he'd tucked away and gave it a little kiss. The last thing he did before locking everything away was send you a text.

I already miss you. We should have just stayed in bed.

And then he was off to start another week up in the air. He got to the hangar before he ran into anyone else, and he already had his helmet in his hands when Maverick found him and gave him an envelope. Bradley took one look at the raised seal, and his heart plummeted to his feet. 

"No," he rasped, his dark eyes meeting those of his dad's best friend who just nodded at him before apologizing and walking away. "Fuck!" Bradley practically shouted before dropping his helmet to the ground and raking his fingers through his hair. He vaguely made out Nat's voice as he started to rip into the envelope with a level of fury he never felt before, because he never had both a wife and a baby on the way before. 

He skimmed the page before crumpling the paper in his fist and stared at the ground. His breaths were coming quick and shallow. His skin was crawling. He picked his helmet up and made his way toward his Super Hornet without a glance back toward the buildings.

When he eventually found you in your office at lunchtime, he had to watch your smile slowly fade away only to be replaced by sobs and tear filled eyes. 

-----------------------

That's a wrap on this series!! Omg, what a ride these two went on! I have a feeling the next one will be even wilder. Please stay tuned for some one-shots featuring Roo, Baby Girl, and the nugget. Then we will pick up later in her pregnancy with a brand new series!!!!! Thanks for all the love, reblogs and comments. They brighten my day and keep me motivated. Big thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Read the next one-shot! Check my masterlist for more!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

[tocomplainfriend]

I am mad

Yup!

Bro shut up, she is white - being Latina is not a race, is an not the same as color skin. And she is a second generation immigrant too. So like... this isn't like a Salvadorian person doing a cartoon, is a daughter of Salvadorians... That grew in the USA. Being Latino doesn't mean you aren't white, you can be any race and Latino. Still wouldn't make up for the lack of representation or the existing racism. In the piece of media that's "diverse".

Salvadorian is not a race, LMAO. That's crazy- you think someone from Argentina who is white, is not white cause of their nationality??? Being Latino and having that culture does not equal a race. It's in itself a racist thing. This Latino = Race is terrible, It also comes from the idea of the "You are not Latino because you are not brown", assuming all people from Latino America are brown by default. You know how much has that happen to me? -AND MANY OTHER PEOPLE.

(I'm Latino btw)

I already have an older post about it, but - you can really see the lack of diversity in the show a lot. (Will talk about it even more other day).

Again the main thing you get is MEN, hypersexual skinny queer men (cis). You won't get to see female characters being well written, thought all the season 1 and all the episodes we got rn of season 2. All characters are skinny and similar body types and repetitive design choices. Funny enough, shows that lack of human characters still have better race-coding that helluva. (and well in hazbin you'll get POC characters that are gray, lack all ethic features... even when they are humanoid. So that is great.)

Bro you could, you imagine a character being black and having different textured hair, and you go to hell... AND EVEN THO YOU ARE HUMANOID- your hair became straight and spiky, and you are now a light gray? If you build a world like that... it just seems like the perfect racist excuse to delete ethic features out a POC character because you don't want to draw them. "Not going to a single hint of their race/culture unless it revolves on their death"... If the character became a fucking coin with dot eyes, maybe (not really, shows with no human/humanoid characters still are capable to race-code their characters). But all of these characters are humanoid- why do none of them have their different characteristics? Also, this is about a real person in the real world choosing how to design a character.

This tweet also implies that a black character when they were a life they had ethic features, but lose them when they go to hell. Which is even more fucking stupid.

If a white person with straight hair goes to hell, and their hair remains straight (assuming it has nothing to do with their death), why wouldn't there be black people with textured hair? This is dumb. This goes back to the fucking thing of "No black people in fantasy media", In the same way, it's stupid for fantasy stories to revolve around white people characteristics in fictional species and people in that world- not including all the rest of diverse human characteristics POC people have it's crazy. The biggest problem here is why the fuck all Viv's sinners characters (main characters designed by her) that are supposed to black (or mixed like Alastor) have 0 characteristic. THEY ARE HUMANOID, THEY AREN'T EVEN ABSTRACT OR AN ANIMAL OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. She didn't want to draw that nor change designs, and wanted to justify the whole concept of Alastor even using Voodou.

HOW ARE ALL THE ANGELS THAT VIV WANTS TO BE BLACK (black voice actors specified, or are race specified) HAVE NOTHING??? LIKE HELLO THE 'I'm such a nice angel character girl' HAS SPIKY STRAIGHT HAIR??? SHE IS AN ANGEL AND BLACK, WHY DIDN'T YOU DID HER HAIR TO BE CLOUDS- It's THE EASIEST SHIT YOU COULD’VE DONE.

BOOM! A FUCKING TROLL FROM A KIDS MOVIE WITH DIFFERENT HAIR. BOOM! THE FUNK TROLLS ARE SO EXPLICITLY BLACK CODED.

---

-

Bro, you know this whole thing of people with textured hair have to forcefully straighten their hair or wear wogs to a job... because people consider it ""Unprofessional"" cause racism? The erasure and discrimination of POC people and their features is a problem. That's why it is important to people represent all of those things:

(Marvel's Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur)

The only reason of why Alas tor is even mixed is purely cause Viv used the Voodou symbols because she thought they were creepy and edgy. It's sucks that all the angels and sinners that are supposed to be black have nothing.

[onlyhuis]

squeaky clean

member — bf!seungcheol x bf!mingyu x reader genre — smut, fluff/comfort, poly relationship (see warnings!) word count — 2.7k synopsis — after a long day, a nice relaxing bubble bath is exactly what you need, and your boyfriends are more than willing to help you unwind. good thing your bathtub is big enough for three. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, bathtub sex (this is fake. fiction. made up. do NOT have sex in soapy water), slight mxm (cheol gives gyu a handjob), kissing (reader x cheol & reader x gyu only, no cheol x gyu) nicknames (pretty girl, angel, baby, sweetheart, etc. you know the drill; gyu is called puppy once or twice but not in a pet play way), soft dom!cheol, gyu & reader are mainly sub leaning, lots of dirty talk & praise, a little bit of voyeurism from cheol but it's soft (you'll see) notes — this is a poly fic! meaning all three of them are in a relationship, meaning all three of them are having sex, meaning yes there is a little bit of mxm in this. i am in no way trying to ship them or imply anything about them, this is just for fun and because i believe poly relationships also deserve representation in fanfics. if you're not comfortable with that please feel free to skip this fic! you are the one responsible for what you choose to read, and i encourage you to read the warnings first so you have a sense of what happens. i still do not write solely mxm and i probably won't do fics like this often; this is very different from my usual content but i'm branching out a bit and trying new things!! feedback, asks, and reblogs are always super super appreciated :) (also ps this is a special present for @duhnova and @onlymingyus i hope you like it !!)

when mingyu and seungcheol get home from work, they're surprised to find you laying across the couch, arms hanging over the side and your face smashed against a pillow.

immediately cheol walks over and sits on the couch beside you, putting the back of his hand against your forehead with worry. "baby, what's wrong? are you feeling sick?"

"just tired," you sigh. "i think i need a nap, maybe." he starts to stand up, offering to get the thermometer to take your temperature and make sure you don’t have a fever, and he pouts when you tell him you’re not sick.

"have you showered yet? i'll make dinner," mingyu offers, already slipping his jacket off and starting for the kitchen. 

"no, not yet." you sit up and wince, rubbing your neck. "i'll have to do it in the morning."

"don't you have a meeting tomorrow morning, though?"

you groan, remembering that your schedule tomorrow will be just as busy, if not more, than today. "then i'll wake up extra early, i guess."

cheol glances at mingyu, exchanging a look with his partner. "why don't you take a bath?" he suggests after a pause. "we'll get it all ready for you so you don't have to worry about a thing. you can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath, and you'll sleep so good afterwards."

"mm, that does sound nice," you concede, leaning back against the back of the couch. "alright, fine."

cheol stands up, putting his hand on your shoulder. “we’ll let you know when everything’s ready. for now, you just sit and relax.” you nod, and he walks away out of your view and waves his hand at mingyu, motioning for him to follow him to the bathroom.

a while later you hear your name being called, and you pull yourself off of the couch and follow the sound of mingyu's voice down the hall.

when you walk in, cheol is sitting on the edge of the bathtub and mingyu stands at the sink. as promised, the tub is filled with thick bubbles, the sweet scent of vanilla and peach soap filling the room.

"all ready for you," mingyu says with a grin, and as you step towards him to kiss him he wraps his arms around you, drawing you closer as he deepens the kiss. you sigh against him and relax into his hold for a moment, letting him hold you up. it's a soft, slow moment, and when you finally break apart it leaves your insides feeling warm.

as you slide your shorts down to your ankles, you can almost see the bulge in his jeans that he casually tries to hide with his hands, and your stomach flutters and your cheeks warm at the sight. but before you can say anything about it cheol motions you to come closer, pointing at the bathtub. "come make sure the water's the right temperature," he says, directed at you though his eyes are locked with mingyu's behind you, a wordless conversation between them.

you cross the room, feeling every bit as exposed as you are and suddenly very aware of the fact that you're the only one in the room that's half naked. 

dipping your hand into the water, you instinctively shudder at the warmth on your fingertips. it's perfect, as usual, and you pull your hand out, wiping the wetness on your bare leg. "just right," you say, and he smiles, leaning over from the edge of the tub to kiss you.

out of nowhere it crosses your mind that seungcheol must be able to taste mingyu on your lips, and you try to hold back a moan at the thought but it escapes you too quickly, a strangled breath against his mouth that's too quiet for mingyu to have heard but more than loud enough for cheol to notice.

you pull away, about to pretend that didn't happen, but the look on your boyfriend's face means you aren't getting out of this that easily. cheol raises his eyebrows and you turn your head to glance at mingyu, who is still leaning against the counter, trying very hard to be casual and draw attention away from his obvious erection.

"it's okay, angel," cheol whispers, nodding his head over at mingyu. "go ask him. i know you need something, don't you, my pretty girl?"

you stay quiet but nod, and with a smile cheol kisses you once more before you turn and walk back over to mingyu. you tuck your arms behind his back, holding him against your body. "will you… join me, gyu?" you ask, looking up at him through your lashes as you tug at the hem of his shirt.

he attempts to stifle a groan, his hands ghosting just inches above your bare back as if he's holding himself back from touching without your permission. "i’d like that," he says finally, trying not to appear too eager, though his body language speaks volumes.

"yes, please," you answer, then turn to look behind you again. "but only if cheollie joins us, too."

cheol laughs, already pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor with your pile of clothes. "fine by me."

with the two of them following close behind, you finally strip out of the last of your clothes, leaving your bra and panties at the foot of the tub as you climb into the water. as soon as your skin dips beneath the bubbly surface you let out a long sigh, sliding lower and lower until your whole body is submerged up to your neck.

it’s only been a few seconds since you’ve gotten in the bath, but you can already feel the stress melting away. but as you watch mingyu walking towards you, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to get out of his pants, you’re reminded that the heat between your legs isn’t just from the water temperature.

at your nod mingyu climbs in after you, soapy water sploshing out of the tub as he sinks down in front of you. his long legs get stuck for a second, but he soon adjusts so he’s straddling you, bent knees poking up above the layer of bubbles.

making sure everything in the house was big enough for three was one of seungcheol’s priorities back when you’d moved in together, and as he watches mingyu giggle and splash water at you, he’s glad he decided on the extra large bathtub, too.

he waits a moment before he joins the two of you, studying the way you sit with gyu and the smiles that light up both of your faces. you’re the two most important people in his life, and he loves watching you interact with each other, the sweetness bubbling up more than any bath soap could ever do.

but cheol’s thoughts are quickly interrupted when your whispered talk with mingyu suddenly turns into heated kisses, the sound of your airy moans drawing his attention to the soap suds running down your chest. leaning forward, mingyu takes one of your breasts into mouth and you sigh, leaning against the edge of the tub and arching your back into him. 

seungcheol gently pushes you to sit up as he finally gets into the tub behind you, and you rest your back against his chest as mingyu continues to suck at your breasts. you can feel cheol's hard cock pressed against your ass, but you don't think about it for more than a few seconds because immediately one of his hands slides around your hips, trailing down your body beneath the bubbly surface until his fingers find your clit, making you jump as your breath catches in your throat. his other hand curls around your chest, squeezing your other breast in his palm.

you wiggle around in their grasp, almost overwhelmed by all the attention from your boyfriends, but the feeling is so comfortable that you can't help but relax back into the water, giving up your control. it doesn’t happen too often, but the nights when the both of them are focused on pampering you are some of your favorite, allowing you to shut your brain off for a while they take the lead.

mingyu coos as you close your eyes, rolling your head back against seungcheol's shoulder. "that's it, sweetheart." 

"let us take care of you, pretty girl," cheol adds, twisting your nipple between his fingers and drawing a soft moan from your lips. 

cheol moves his fingers from your clit to spread your folds apart, and when he finally inserts his finger you can already feel yourself clenching down around him. you whimper out his name, reaching out to grab onto mingyu's shoulders as he begins to curl the tip of his finger just right against your walls. mingyu sits up, changing his position only so he can move his teeth up your neck, grazing them against every inch of skin and biting and sucking to make sure you're completely marked up.

you're sure your nails must be leaving marks on mingyu's skin as well, from how tightly you're gripping onto his broad shoulders, but if he notices he doesn't say anything; he just continues moving his mouth up and down your neck and collarbones, little whines escaping him all the while.

"you want him or me tonight, baby?" cheol asks, his fingers still stroking your clit. "or both of us? whatever you want, we're all about you tonight."

absently mingyu starts to grind down on your leg, rocking his hips back and forth along your thigh and it distracts you from whatever you were about to answer. "gyu, first…" you moan, your hands sliding down his soapy body to grab at his hips. "please—"

"then gyu it is, baby," seungcheol whispers affirmatively, his cheek pressed against yours as he tucks your wet hair behind your ear. "feel how hard he is for us? for you? he's all yours tonight, angel, tell him what you need."

"need you to– fuck me, gyu," you gasp out, trying and failing to stop his hips from moving. all three of you are more than familiar with how sensitive he is, and it wouldn't take much for him to cum just from grinding on your leg and whimpering like a needy puppy, but he's too strong for you to be able to stop him. "gyu, please, want you inside."

"listen to how prettily she begs for you, puppy," cheol says, and he moves his fingers out of you to rest on mingyu's thigh as you whine at the loss. "better not leave her empty for long, you know how bratty she gets…"

normally you would have something bratty to say in response, but you're so exhausted you don't have it in you to talk back. "please, need you, gyu," you repeat pitifully, already so gone that you can't think of anything you want more than to be stuffed full of cock and fucked into oblivion.

at your words mingyu stops moving his hips with a groan, leaning forward to smash his lips against yours. you can vaguely feel cheol kissing at the side of your temple, but mingyu's ferocity and passion makes it hard to think about anything except how good it feels to have his tongue in your mouth, teeth clacking together with the force of his kisses.

impatiently you slide your hands down from mingyu's waist, wrapping your fingers around his girthy cock. he groans into your mouth, pulling away sharply to catch his breath as you begin to line up the tip with your hole, eager to feel his cock hug your walls.

but before you can push him inside you, you feel cheol's hand on top of yours, gently prying your fingers away. beneath the water he runs his fingers along the length of mingyu's cock, and the other man shivers at the feeling. your hands were so small compared to cheol's, and his touch was much rougher than your gentle grip.

slowly at first seungcheol begins to move his hand up and down, gradually beginning to increase his pace in time with mingyu's panted breaths. 

you can barely keep up with what's happening in the water just inches above your cunt, too intently focused on watching the way mingyu's face contorts in pleasure with each skilled flick of cheol's wrist. in fact you don't even mind watching and waiting, the intimate act between them more than enough to satisfy you.

but you can tell mingyu is getting close by the way his eyes squeeze shut and his shoulders tense up, and you know cheol can tell, too, because he slowly loosens his grip, making mingyu whine in frustration.

"don't forget about our little angel, gyu," cheol hums, letting go completely except for a single finger that he traces across the thick vein along the top of mingyu’s cock.

he groans but leans forward to begin kissing your neck again, his lips trailing along your jaw as you thread your fingers through his wet hair.

with mingyu’s cock still in his grasp, cheol angles him at your entrance, and after running the tip through your folds a few times to tease you he finally helps the man push into you, guiding him inch by inch into your throbbing cunt.

all you can do is moan and hold on to anything you can, one hand still in mingyu’s hair and the other gripping cheol’s thigh behind you for support. water pours over the side of the tub as mingyu begins to rock his hips into you, arms and hands and legs spread out in a tangled mess everywhere.

for a moment you start to worry about how you’ll ever be able to clean up the bathroom after this, but the thought is quickly pushed to the back of your mind when you feel cheol’s fingers on your clit once again.

“i know you’re close, baby.” you hear cheol’s low voice speaking into your ear, and your hips jerk at his tone. “so tight and so perfect for our mingyu, making him feel so good. so sweet for us, so perfect…”

with the way cheol’s mumbling praises you would almost have thought he’s the one getting fucked right now, but his words pass right through you, too focused on the sensation building in your core to process what he’s saying.

seconds later you cum with a stifled cry, your eyes wrenched shut as the men on either side of you continue to work you through your orgasm. two pairs of strong arms sandwich you against their chests, the familiar weight that surrounds you a grounding feeling.

the rest of the bath passes by in a haze after mingyu and cheol get out of the tub, leaving you to soak for a little longer and have some time to rest. though the water has already started to go cold and most of the bubbles are long gone, it’s still a very pleasant bath, and by the end of it you’re completely relaxed and ready for a nap.

when you decide you’re done for the night, mingyu lifts you out of the tub and wraps a towel around your shoulders as cheol pulls the plug, the remains of the bath water swirling down the drain with a quiet slurp. both of them help you dry off, exchanging gentle kisses and soft touches until you’re tucked into bed wearing a fresh set of pajamas.

cheol helps you pull the covers up to your chin, the sheets feeling cozy and comfortable against your clean skin. he sits at the edge of the bed, running his hand along your forehead in soothing motions. 

“you feel better now, baby?” he hums. “less stressed?”

“mhm. thank you, cheollie,” you reply, letting your eyes fall shut as your tiredness from the day starts to catch up with you. “and mingyu, too. i love you both.”

cheol smiles, leaning over to kiss your forehead as he stands up. “we love you, too.”

> taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @just-here-to-read-01 @darlingvernon @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @skzzooyaaa @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @chocolate-cookies @honglynights @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @ifuckcheol @mingminghao @photographic-girl

> strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are turned off to ensure i can tag you properly!

> if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

[johannestevans]

I came out as trans at about fifteen or sixteen, changed my name, and I’ve lived as a man since. As a young man doing my A-Levels, going to university, and working afterwards, I was out as a man, using he/him pronouns, using my actual name —

Two pictures of me, one at age 16, the other at age 19.

To people who had no idea what a trans man looked like, it was pretty easy to give people a funny look and say, “I’m a man,” in a tone that made them suddenly flustered and nervous, because cis people feel extremely guilty about misgendering another cisgender person in a way they don’t when they know you’re trans.

I was thin, had a lower-toned but still not masculine voice, didn’t have much of a chest — I got gendered correctly automatically maybe 30 or 40% of the time, and maybe up to 50% if I employed shame in the right way, implied I was cis with a hormonal imbalance, or if people assumed I was still a teenage boy rather than an adult.

To people who did know what a trans man looked like but weren’t trans themselves, talking to them was fucking excruciating.

I remember once when I was selling house alarms and some hideous cis girl asked, “Are you transgender?” and I immediately told her, “Nope,” as she kept questioning the point. Another time, I was in the back of a taxi when a man asked if I was trans, although thankfully when I told him, “Nope, just low testosterone,” he seemed to immediately believe me and back the fuck off.

It’s one of the reasons I feel conflicted about trans visibility — it’s great for other trans people to see a variety of trans representation, but cis people knowing what trans people are is a double-edged sword, because cis people are entitled, invasive, and often just straight-up weird about gender, most of all when they think they’re being allies.

When I started working at a hotel, my immediate boss was a very abusive woman — she was petty, vindictive, and because she had poor organisational skills and frequently got flustered by her own workload, she would take this out on any staff around her, whether that was her juniors, other management, or sometimes guests.

Her being abusive in the workplace wasn’t that unusual. Now and then the managers would misgender me, and I’d correct them, and they’d brush it off as they apologised, that sort of thing.

Because this manager identified as an ally, she flipped her fucking lid.

She went off on a tirade for some ten minutes about what a great ally she is, and how much she knows about and cares about trans people, and how a lot of people wouldn’t hire a trans person, and she volunteers with local queer groups (she was at the time a mediocre DJ, and frequently DJed at a local gay club), and all this bluster.

Over one (apparently needed) correction.

All she needed to do was not misgender me — a quick “sorry” might have been nice. A ten-minute rant about how she was a saint for hiring me?

Not really necessary.

Cisgender people hate trans people — and I know some cis people reading this are immediately raising their hackles and about to go “well not ALL cis people — “ because they’re allies, and it’s important that I know that they’re a good one, actually, and they’re a real ally.

But the reason that cis people have a knee-jerk negative reaction to trans people, intersex people, and any person that they have decided is gender non-conforming, the reason they respond so punishingly to our existence or to mild misbehaviours on our parts — such as demanding respect or correcting their mistakes — is because our very existence is an interruption to their worldview, the ideologies and biases by which they live.

They should know what a man is just by looking at one, and if they get it wrong, that’s embarrassing for them — because to cisgender people the binary male-female divide is crucial to the way they respect or disrespect others, people that interrupt their thinking on it can trigger a lot of rage and upset. A trans person represents a frightening challenge — what if they accidentally treated a man with the casual disrespect that is rightfully allotted women? What if they sexually objectified a man thinking he was a woman, and it made them gay for a moment?

If they think you’re cisgender and heterosexual enough, any of these things are their fault, and they feel very bad about them.

But if you’re trans?

Well, it’s your fault for existing that way, right? You’re the one doing genders wrong — they’re not the one that made the error!

There’s a particular rage reserved for trans men, lesbians, and any other trans or GNC person that’s perceived as being “biologically female” — because society feels the greatest gender-based entitlement over these people’s bodies, in large part due to institutional misogyny, we’re perceived as gender traitors.

Cis men hate us because we’ve ruined what they perceived as a resource for them — a source of sexual gratification and aesthetic pleasure, a breeding vessel for birthing babies, not to mention a mother with all the domestic labour that comes with; cis women hate us because they perceive us as gaining all the privileges of being male, of gaming the system, and at the same time breaking what they sometimes feel is a sort of sacred trust of femininity.

In order to cope with institutional misogyny, some cis women effectively craft a further gender-based bioessentialism — if you have a uterus and are perceived as a woman by society, you’re not just physically capable of birthing a child. You must also innately have the traits of an ideal mother — you must be nurturing and lovely, you must be caring, you must have the correct emotions, you must be submissive in the right way. But also, a woman like this must be cleverer than a man, and if she effectively parents or cares for the men in her life, she just does that because she is so smart, and men are so stupid.

Again, trans people represent an interruption to that mode of thinking. If trans people are real, and we’re the genders we say we are, all of that ideology is nonsense.

If I, a trans man, can just “choose” to be a man, doesn’t that mean that every woman that experiences misogyny is just “choosing” misogynistic abuse?

The fact that as a trans man, I experience abuses that are linked to misogyny is irrelevant — that I’m at a higher risk of sexual abuse, that medical professionals dismiss my symptoms as soon as some of them realise I’m “really” a woman and cease my treatment or cease treating me with the respect due a man; that people dismiss me and dehumanise me, either because they think I’m transgender, and therefore a lesser being, or an ugly and not sexually available woman, and therefore a lesser being.

If I’m a trans man, I must experience male privilege — why else would I choose to be trans?

And if I don’t experience male privilege in every situation, because people don’t always consider me male or legitimately male, or if male privilege in any given situation I experience is actually complicated by other factors, such as race, disability, sexuality, and so on, then I must be lying.

Passing privilege isn’t the same as male privilege — passing privilege generally refers to the privileges a transgender person experiences because they reliably pass as cisgender.

I don’t think that it’s universal — “passing privilege” assumes that everyone passes in all situations, and while I would say that I pass very reliably in a lot of mine now that I’m several years on T and my second puberty has been very good to me, this doesn’t apply everywhere.

When I’m in the hospital, for example, or otherwise seeing a doctor, I get treated with even more hostility — partially because most cis doctors practice misogyny-based medicine and are more likely to dismiss women’s symptoms or generally give them worse medical care, especially male doctors treating women. In my experience, cis female doctors are more likely to punish me for being transgender than a cis male one is.

I’ve noticed multiple times going to see a doctor, being treated as a man with all my pain or symptoms being treated as a concern, and then abruptly there’s a sudden withdrawal of care and concern when the doctor either realises I’m transgender and/or realises I’m “really” a woman.

But the thing is?

I’m pretty sure that the reason I suddenly receive such aggressive negative response is because I pass so well. When cis people realise that I’m trans, they feel even angrier and more personally betrayed, because I’ve so thoroughly “tricked” them by being a man without their permission.

Me at 24, about a year on testosterone; me at 25, about two years on testosterone. Same blouse, same vest.

But in general, day-to-day life — yeah, I’m perceived as a cis man.

Notably, a cis gay man.

Regularly, other trans guys and some butches tell me that as they began to present in ways perceived as more masculine, they noticed that women in public responded to them differently.

If they were out at night and a woman was walking alone nearby, she might cross the street to be a bit further away from them; she might choose to sit elsewhere rather than be near them on a bench; a woman alone might not want to share a lift with them.

I thought this was interesting the first few times I heard it — I hear it all the time, and it still strikes me as curious, because I don’t experience the same thing at all.

I’ve never had a woman walk away from me, or be careful not to be alone with me. Frequently, women strike up conversation with me in public, they chat to me on buses the way they might with other women — a little while ago I was waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up from the airport, and a young girl of 19 or so actually came up to me to ask if she could hotspot off my phone for a second and to ask me for directions.

It’s not that women alone shouldn’t strike up conversation with men, or shouldn’t be alone with them — but just to avoid any potential discomfort or risk of being harassed, many of them understandably avoid it.

But a lot of women see me in the street or in public places, and when they perform their internal risk assessment, I don’t prompt a red flag.

Part of it is that I’m skinny and white, sure — I’m not very physically intimidating in terms of my size, and I’m not racialised in the way many Black and dark-skinned men and boys are. Sometimes, I’m using a mobility aid like a cane, and that makes a difference, too.

But as a rule, I’m pretty. I wear make-up — I often wear face stickers and have visible “tattoos”. I’m fussy about my hair, and it shows. I dress in bright prints and florals, I wear silks and satins, I wear waistcoats and high-waisted jeans, I wear block heels.

When I walk, I sashay my hips. I hold my hands in a delicate way — I gesticulate freely, and I move my fingers when I do so in an effete way. If they hear me talk, people often guess from my accent that I’m English rather than Welsh, and that I’m more educated than I am, not to mention significantly posher.

The average cishet stranger in the street absolutely sees me as a man — and they exclusively see me as a gay one. No one ever mistakes me for a straight one, and that absolutely affects the way I’m treated.

I couldn’t possibly pose a threat of sexual harassment in many women’s eyes, because I’m obviously gay, and many cis straight women feel very comfortable with — if not entitled to — gay men’s companionship, especially white gays with effete mannerisms.

When talking about gender-based privileges for trans men and mascs, we don’t tend to consider any impact that perceptions of our sexuality can have, but because of the way gay men are sorted into a different subclass of cis masculinity than straight men, there’s a noticeable impact.

Straight people sometimes roll their eyes or look amused when they think I’m being particularly dramatic or gay; occasionally straight men wolf-whistle at me or make comments about how gay I look; people strike up conversations with me about RuPaul’s Drag Race, start chattering to me about drag, because they just assume that’s the sort of thing I would be into. I get looks sometimes on the bus if I’m chatting with friends or on the phone, or sometimes if I’m just there in front of them and I look very gay.

Most of this isn’t incredibly malicious — is it homophobic? Sure, sometimes. A lot of it is just straight people trying to understand what they think is gay culture the best way they know how.

Parents with kids actually make me the most nervous — not because there’s any danger posed by the kids themselves most of the time, but because parents can be the most vicious when it comes to homophobia. They’ll accuse gay men of being paedophiles just for existing in public and seeming a bit fruity, or they’ll get nervous about how gay someone looks in case their kids ask questions about it.

And kids do find how I look interesting — all the time, I’ll be out in public, and a kid will notice that my nails are painted or that I’m wearing high heels or that they see tattoos on my face, and they’ll ask their parents about it.

It’s anxiety-inducing for any parent when their child starts acting about a stranger’s appearance where the stranger can hear them, because they get worried about the potential impoliteness — when that stranger is a faggot, some of them get angry at me, because once again, even without their knowing I’m transgender, I’m interrupting their worldview of what the correct gendered behaviours are, forcing them to think about it, forcing them to explain aberrations to their kids.

A “normal”, “real” man is straight, after all, and does straight men’s things, like dress badly and sexually harass women and get ugly haircuts. It’s confusing, if I’m out on the streets looking fuckable.

The last time I was travelling, I was sitting in a restaurant in the airport, and some boys at the next table were staring at me.

“Dad, why is that man wearing makeup?”

“I don’t know, some men wear it.”

“How come?”

“…”

It is a truth universally acknowledged that wherever a faggot goes, little boys will be asking their mildly homophobic but well-meaning and liberal parents questions about that man’s physical appearance.

A classic response, and one that I overhear often, was this man’s retort: “Why don’t you go and ask him?”

Sometimes teenagers and kids laugh at how I dress, especially if they’re in groups together — and especially, too, if there’s a bunch of us visible queers together.

One thing I’ve noticed about wearing crop-tops is that some people get het-up about how hairy I am and the hair visible on my belly, or under my arms if I’m wearing a vest — because some straight people see a white twink and want to reclassify him as being part of the woman subcategory instead of the man subcategory (based on his assumed sexual availability to men), they then apply women’s rules of physical appearance to him.

After all, if I’m wearing makeup and high heels and high-waisted jeans and a crop-top, that’s like how a woman dresses — and if I’m going to dress like a woman even though I’m obviously a man, I should be held to the standards a woman would be too. I should be hairless and odourless, like a sexy child, because “sexy child” is the ideal for an attractive woman, right?

Some cishet women also hate how I dress and instead of laughing or grumbling about it in the way that cishet men do, they wrinkle their noses and get really quite scornful about it.

Some of those women’s husbands are secretly on Grindr (I know because I have sex with them), and I believe this is the closest they get to facing their suspicions as to their husbands’ bisexuality.

A photo of me from earlier this month, age 26.

I started taking testosterone some months before the pandemic started, but experienced the bulk of my second puberty’s physical effects over the course of the following years.

Subsequently, when I went to a queer event being run after about two years on testosterone, many people there hadn’t seen me out in some time. I got a lot of looks and a lot of interest, especially from other queer men, in a way I never had before — I always got a lot of engagement and looks, but many cis gay men would take a little while to warm up to the idea of me as a man if they knew or suspected I was trans.

Maybe it’s just because I’m hotter, though, right? I’m hardly the only person to go through a glow-up on HRT, and I certainly feel more attractive.

Except that several of the older men looking at me were men I’d known casually for years — and a bunch of them came up and introduced themselves. Said hi, what’s your name, I’m x, it’s nice to meet you, are you new to the city?

Because up ’til then, they really hadn’t much looked at me in much detail. Many of these men had heard me give talks, had talked to me in queer bars, had met me at one event or another, and I just hadn’t stuck in their minds — they certainly hadn’t come up and spoken to me before, let alone with such enthusiasm.

And I do want to say, like —

None of these men would call themselves anti-trans — they’d try to use the right pronouns, they’d say that there should be trans events on, and so on. But there’s still going to be unconscious biases there — whether up ’til now they saw me as a woman (and therefore just looked past me) or saw me as trans (and therefore just looked past me), suddenly I was a fully realised human being. Maybe I was attractive and fuckable to some of them — but crucially, I was also another gay man, and therefore real and worth talking to.

And I will say that this isn’t all older gay men in my community or even like, a massive majority of them — but it was enough older gay men to be noticeable.

Even entering into new gay spaces, queer men tend to be friendlier to me than they used to, more outgoing in conversation, chattier, etc.

That’s obviously not necessarily because I’m trans — like I said, I’m also hotter than I used to be, I’m older, more educated, I dress better and more confidently, etc. There’s other factors at play, and I’m not comparing friendliness to cruelty or coldness — I’m comparing it to polite apathy, which was often mild enough that I wasn’t hugely affected by it pre-T.

Some men do treat me a little coldly, but from what I can tell it’s not usually because they suspect or know I’m trans — a lot of the time it’s actually because I’m so faggy and effeminate, or they just don’t trust that I’m gonna be cool because I’m so young.

Mixed queer spaces can be another story.

Other queer people my age have often found me intimidating — I’m a pretty outspoken person, my politics are more aggressive leftwing than many people’s, and as a autistic, I speak plainly and directly in a way that a lot of people don’t care for, or can find scary and overwhelming.

Now, though?

The response to my perceived aggression is a lot more dramatic and avoidant — because now they assume I’m a cisgender man.

People often interpret me as angry or aggressive when I’m not — I can sometimes be somewhat flat in my affect, I can be a very blunt communicator, I don’t tend to beat around the bush when it comes to my opinions. All of these are pretty standard as an autistic guy, and a lot of other people have experienced the same thing I have — the interpretation of those personality traits as aggressive or argumentative.

But it’s been interesting experiencing the negative response ramp up so much as soon as I’m perceived as “really” male, even by other transmascs, queer people, and trans men.

It can be strange at times navigating broader trans spaces as someone who doesn’t look trans in the way even other trans people expect you to, where they just assume that you’re cisgender, or that as someone who already passes and has therefore “finished” your journey as a trans person, there’s less reason for you to be in community with other trans people.

Especially when it comes to trauma like…

There is an assumption by many young queer people that cis gay people are just fine now, that homophobia doesn’t impact them in the traumatic way it did older generations, or that homophobia is no longer an active impact on people’s lives — I obviously am transgender, but to be brushed off with the assumption I haven’t experienced the same extent of bigotry or negative experience because I appear cisgender always strikes me as fucked up when of course a lot of cis men have had similar life experiences to me, or worse.

I will say that again, the negative responses are from a minority, just big enough to be noticeable, and the more people talk to me, the more they relax a little about the whole thing.

It’s still funny though, like —

I met some trans friends of a partner recently, and I came downstairs without a shirt on because I was hurriedly multitasking, and watched her do a double take at my chest.

I laughed and was like, “Did you not realise I was trans?”

And she went, “No!” and we had a giggle about it.

Most of the time meeting other queer people across the board, I’m extended care and compassion and love — it’s just weird, I think, being so aware of the gendered differences in how people speak with and apparently perceive me, and how things have and do change, especially because people assume transmasculinity means a one-way journey to Male Privilege, and all the benefits it can come with.

As with any and everything else, these matters come with nuance and layers, and nothing is as simple as A to B with no complications.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'

Rosaura Revueltas (Salt of the Earth)—She was a Mexican actress who is best known for starring in salt of the earth, an amazing pro-labor movie made by blacklisted filmmakers. She also starred in the Mexican remake of madchen in uniform, one of the first representations of lesbian romance onscreen. She was really dedicated to making progressive films and was also such an incredible actress and artist I truly believe more people should know about her and her work.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Cyd Charisse:

Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!

Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:

and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.

She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.

Dancing in the Dark clip:

She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.

She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

No additional propaganda was submitted for Rosaura Revueltas. Please send me some.

[sing-you-fools]

being a Discworld fan honestly should be, like, the #1 book recommending a person sort of things, and i hate that it's not because so many of his fans get it so wrong. like. i try not to get incensed about people being wrong on the internet, but how anyone reads these books and thinks this man was a bigot, thinks the representation he put in Discworld was at the expense of those represented, like. like. i'm furious about it. every time. especially as he continued to learn and grow both as a writer and as a person. even stuff that was originally meant to be a little silly, like a female dwarf, he found meant a lot to people, and he learned how to better include that story!

(spoilers ahead for Shepherd's Crown)

he leaned into it in the most loving and respectful way. fucking READ The Shepherd's Crown!!!!! the man found out trans women identified with his character so he learned how to represent them! and then, he wrote Jackrum! AND THEN HE WROTE GEOFFREY!!!!! with his last fucking book he gave us a character who says he doesn't really feel like a man or a woman, just himself, fucking ages before anyone else was writing nonbinary characters! AND HE PUT HIM IN GRANNY WEATHERWAX'S FUCKING COTTAGE Y'ALL! LIKE HAVE YOU THOUGHT ABOUT WHAT THAT MEANS BECAUSE I HAVE SOBBED SO FUCKING MUCH ABOUT IT! (Note that obviously Geoffrey doesn't have/use different language for himself, but that's how he feels and pronouns are not gender.)

thanks to how he handled Cheery and how he went from there, Pratchett included trans representation for ALL of us SO SO SO SO SO LONG before we were on anyone else's radar, and it's honestly so much more respectful than some of the stuff i've seen out there more recently!!!!!

he wasn't perfect, and a lot of social standards have evolved since the earlier Discworld books especially, but he always kept an open mind and listened and tried and grew. and there are people out there insisting he would be this hateful bigot!!!!! i hate them!!!!! let me hire the fucking assassin's guild!!!!!

[starrylayle]

no it's not "forced diversity", you just hate seeing minority leads.

I really didn't want to comment on this, but as someone who has recently rediscovered monster high and loves the new show, I've seen so much criticism that isn't exactly...constructive?

I've seen a lot of people say that making Frankie non-binary is 'forced', 'lazy' and 'uninspired', when that is just simply not true?? Let's unpack their character for a moment. They are made of a ton of different dead body parts, some male and some female. If you were to use the 'biology excuse' it wouldn't even make sense in this context -- they literally have male and female organs!! Also alot of nonbinary people feel as though they have lots of parts to themselves,, what better way to portray that than through a monster character struggling with the same thing? It's literally such a cool allegory!! Creators have been using magic/fantasy to describe/symbolise real world issues and feelings for ages,, why is it such a big deal creators do this for more marginalised people. [also,, the orginal Frankenstein creature was heavily queer coded in the first place so its a sweet easter egg).

I also see people say,, 'oh why couldn't they just have made a new character be non-binary instead of changing the pronouns of a former one'. I hate this argument so much because it sounds like it's in good faith, but really what they're trying to say is "stay away from my white cishet characters and go make one of the irrelevant side characters queer or or just make a whole new show starring them that I have no interest in watching'. Just admit you don't want to see queer characters as leads.

I also think that sometimes cishet ppl (or non-marginalised ppl in general but i've mostly been seeing an attack on the queer characters hence the example) forget that we also grew up watching monster high?? and related to the characters?? And we would be so excited if we saw our favourite characters with similar traits to us?? Like sheesh,, cishet ppl have so much representation like let us have this pls 😭 😭

Actually speaking of representation in Monster High, g1 was already pretty diverse and inclusive, and its nice to see g3 follow in its legacy and become even more inclusive as times change! Like, they really said 'fuck you' to all the conservatives and included a drag queen character, a non-binary main character, autistic side character and so many more!! It makes me so happy to see and its probably why its one of my comfort show rn amidst the rise of the anti-lgbt rhetoric, especially concerning children's media.

So respectfully, to all those people claiming that the new monster high is "forced diversity" --- fuck you xxx

[pillarsalt]

hi um

I was? transmasc but recently I’ve been seeing a lot of really misogynistic sexist transphobic stuff from trans community and it’s just been totally accepted, even by other transmascs. It’s been going on for a while but recently there was a murder of a nonbinary afab person and yet the whole trans community here has been silent, instead screaming about a transfem user being banned or something? This isn’t the first time an afab trans persons suffering has been dismissed, but now right after this awful death, i see transfems making posts about how transmascs talking about their oppression are terfs.

I didn’t want to think about it but all i could think about was that it was weird how despite everyone claiming trans men have all this privilege, trans women always come first…they get the most representation, they get the fame the admiration and the opportunities, their voices are always the loudest and their problems always always come first no matter what.

But despite popular belief trans men’s issues aren’t actually less significant, in some cases we suffer far more than trans women especially in regard to sexual violence. Yet we are silenced. We are frequently left poor, we are discriminated against for our sex we are discriminated against for being trans we are discriminated against for being perceived as lesbians. Yet we are made to be silent?

Why are our voices less important than trans women’s?

And all I could think about was that this is how females are treated in every other area.

I don’t know what else to say… I tried so hard not to reach that conclusion because I don’t want to be transmysogynist but I kept coming back to it and I couldn’t find an argument against it. This is how females are treated. This is what male privilege look like. And if trans women have male privilege, then why the fuck am I sitting here letting them talk over me?

I just feel really really angry. Your a blog who I liked your art but I blocked you when I discovered you were a radfem, but I sort of had you in the back of my mind for some reason and now I feel lost and confused, and I don’t think I want to be part of the trans community anymore.

Hey anon, firstly I really appreciate your willingness to have an open discussion with me. This must be weighing on you pretty heavily.

Secondly, holy shit, you're right. While the entire website is treating this user's ban as a national travesty, I haven't seen a single person talking about Nex's murder despite how much they claim to care about trans people. That's really fucking low, and this situation does very much encapsulate the state of misogyny within the trans community.

And you're right, this IS how females are treated in every other area. Throughout history, the suffering and injustice women face is minimized, laughed at, ignored, and when we want to talk about it, we're shut down and told we're making people uncomfortable and our pain isn't that bad. And here we are again, with a female person's death outweighed by a male person's inconvenience.

The denial of sex-based oppression that permeates trans spaces is a blatant lie that can only be held together if nobody is allowed to acknowledge it, and those who do are punished. If the trans community truly stood behind what they say, discussion would be encouraged! The foundation of their movement would be backed up with facts and replicable science! But instead, they'll call you a bigot for pointing out systems of oppression you can see with your own eyes. Because if you do, transwomen's position as Most Oppressed, and therefore the final authority on what's right and wrong, collapses. You are correct when you say that it seems like transwomen always come first; I don't remember who said it first, but just look at magazine covers featuring trans people -- the transwomen are fully clothed CEOs, athletes, movie stars, but transmen mostly get on magazine covers for... being pregnant and half naked. Misogyny is built into every society on earth, and individuals simply calling themselves something else doesn't change that. And when you give male people free reign to be as misogynistic as they want without consequence, they'll grab that opportunity and hold on like their lives depend on it. The way they weaponize transmen's sex against them is indistinguishable from what 'cis' men do to 'cis' women, but if you ever speak out about it, somehow YOU'RE the one hurting THEM. They do not want transmascs to find solidarity with other female people, because then they would have to face the reality of their own place in a patriarchal world, and face the fact that there are experiences exclusive to female people and that we have the right to speak about it. I mean you see shit like this and the motives become completely transparent:

I do find it funny how hard the trans community and their allies work to prevent anyone from hearing what radfems have to say in case they "corrupt" you with mere words. A lot of the time, it's simply listening to transwomen themselves that sparks the feeling of "something's not right here" in your brain. That's what happened with me too. I'll tell you that most of us also used to be proponents of trans activism, many formerly identifying as trans too. You are seeing through manipulation, and I know it's quite shocking to realize. Even when I first started having doubts about trans rhetoric, I thought "well everyone else agrees about this, so I need to shut up and be nice about it even if I don't agree." It's an unpleasant place to be in. The cognitive dissonance is exhausting though, and it becomes impossible to ignore.

The mistreatment of transmasc people in the trans community by transfems is brutal, and It's hard to watch from the outside because I just want to say "Hey, you know you don't have to take this shit, right?" And you really don't. You are not at all a bad person for recognizing the frankly absurd amount of misogyny in the trans community. Feeling lost and confused is shitty, but it's normal for this situation. The best thing you can do is keep observing, keep reading, form your own opinions, and never let anyone tell you to shut up. Above all, prioritize yourself and your mental wellbeing. If you need to remove yourself from gender-related spaces and discussion for a while, that's totally alright. Just know you're not evil or a bigot for not blindly agreeing with everything the trans community has told you. Your opinions and experiences are worthwhile too.