#like it feels nice that I can be masculine and still have people think I’m enby or andro or feminine. it’s good

[bixels]

(guy who sent in the original i thought you were a lesbian ask) i just wanted to say i still find you just as attractive with the knowledge that you are a man, apologies if i made you feel uncomfortable or like you're less handsome for not being a hot butch. you're still plenty hot regardless and i'm sorry for inflicting tony hawk's sapphic nightmare on you

Tony Hawk’s Sapphic Nightmare is very funny, I would photoshop something if I could right now. Thank you.

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations: No.28

*just based on my observations, only take what resonates

(Sorry it’s been a minute, I got my time back then I got sick- like same day! I’m good now, thank god, but it was absolutely insane and everything has been going on in the world, my God)

-If your moon opposes your ascendant you may be known for making the wrong impressions on people (especially first impressions) at some point in your life

-Not the first time I said this but I feel like Libra Asc tend to need to balance out aspects of their life more bc of their houses having the opposite signs over them.

-On the other hand I feel like Aries asc have a very straightforward, sometimes less complicated world view bc of their houses lining up with their traditional rulers.

-Mars in determemt and fall (Libra, cancer, 12th house) really gives you a finite amount of stamina

-I feel like cancer venus/moons tend to wax the most poetically and romantically about the nostalgia they feel. Even stronger for Venus.

-Men with cancer placements be like: I didn’t know I was manipulating you into being nice to me until it was already happening (lmao oof)

-I noticed Aries and Scorpio Sun men/masc folks can get romanticized a lot, I think this is bc their identity is ruled by mars traditionally, so they tend to be assigned more masculine traits/act their traits out in a more “traditionally” (or even just comfortably) masculine way

-Aqua Sun/asc/venus usually have some features that makes their face really stand out I noticed (unique brow/nose/head shape etc) (idk why I haven’t seen this with moons as much)

-Signs in your 8th house may come off as mysterious or hard to understand

-You may find it really easy to vibe with people that have Sun conjunct your Asc

-I’ve noticed that a lot of Virgo mars may eat like really spicy or punishing foods (especially if the mars is in a fire house)

-Saturn aspecting your big 3 can help you age really well- depending on how well you take care of yourself (extreme example: dick van dyke, he’s almost 100 and he’s still jumping around with so much energy)

-Pisces placements can be like incredibly intelligent and yet still come off as a bit spacey (one of my favorite YouTubers used to head extra credits and he is SO SMART, like just a seriously huge capacity for knowledge but he sounds spacey when he does his chill gameplays and pieces things together unscripted lol)

-Jupiter square/opposition Sun can make you come off as overly pessimistic, it can also make you come off as optimistic at the wrong times (laughing at serious moments, etc)

-Taurus placements are so motivated by food, it’s so real (the amount of times I’ve had a Taurus sun/moon/mars not hear a word I was saying bc they were scoping out a restaurant? Countless lol)

-I notice a lot of rappers & musicians (especially the innovative ones) have major Pisces placements

-Aries moons get emotional fulfillment by winning what they chase after (Aries in big 6 tends to make you go after things in general too imo)

-I noticed sometimes Leo moon can make you a bit self centered, like in the most literal sense, you may have trouble understanding perspectives outside of your own

-Virgos and Geminis and 3rd/6th house placements have great memory but they tend to forget certain aspects. They tend to forget or mix up details. (My ex took like 3 years to remember my middle name beyond the first initial lol god; also, I always remember zodiac signs but not birthdays lol)

-I love how Joe Pera has a cancer Mercury and his comedy is like the coziest comedy I’ve ever heard, he even got his following bc his helping people fall asleep and just talking through his chill podcast (did not expect him to have like the most fire in his chart tho?? Wouldn’t have guessed lol)- Pisces Mercury and Mercury with hard aspects to Neptune probably have a cozy affect on others when they communicate with them too

[yellowjestertfs]

The Billionaires secret

“Hi there. Find what what you were looking for?” I ask in my customary upbeat yet soul-dead customer service voice.

“I think so. Going to give this one a try.” She says handing me a copy of a book called The Billionaire’s Secret from the romance section. I can see why she picked it, on the cover a man in a suit lay on a bed with the buttons of his dress shirt undone showing off his impressive six-pack and strong hairless chest. Brownish red eyes smolder seductively outwards from a masculine face. High cheekbones, soft lips, and a wide square jaw adorned with black stubble that connects to a short-styled head of black hair.

“I’m Bridget by the way,” she says, obviously a bit embarrassed to see me eying up the cover. “Oh, and this is Dan.” She says gesturing at the man standing a few paces away, engrossed by some mobile game on his phone. 

“Nice to meet you, Bridget.” I scan the book. “That will be $17,” I say. 

She glances over at Dan, he doesn't seem to notice so she retrieves her credit card from her purse and taps it against the machine. “I don’t know why I expected him to offer.” She tells me in a conspiratorial whisper “He’s broke. I mean not that it matters to me, but it would just be nice to date a wealthy man or one who at least pays attention to me.” 

Customers often confided in me. I wish I could say it is because of my open honest face or charismatic demeanor but it probably had more to do with a book I once ate about a bartender people told all their secrets to.

I look around. There are a few consumers browsing the book shelves and my manager is sitting at his desk in the back, no one close enough to notice. Bridget seems sweet, too sweet to be with a man like Dan. Poor girl just wants to escape with some fiction, so why not indulge her a little.

“Did you get a chance to check out our books on sale?” I ask Bridget diverting her attention away. She looks over at the shelf I pointed at giving me enough time to crack my knuckles, take a deep breath, and begin.

I place my hands over the cover of the book and it springs open, the pages start to turn themselves slow at first then speed up. Words start to flow from the book as the pages flip past. The letters lift from the page like a sticker being peeled, floating into the air to spin around me. They form a cyclone of black ink as the pages that flip by are left blank.

I feel the lines as they flow off the paper. The first line reads. “Kustav tower is 400 stories tall, rumor has it, it’s smaller than Dane Kustav’s dick.” 

I directed the words towards Bridget’s boyfriend. The ink splashes into him, absorbing into his gray hoodie but leaving no mark. None except for the fact that his basketball shorts start to thrash like a wild animal is trapped inside. Dan didn't look up from his phone even as his dick doubled and then tripled in size to match the one described in the book Billionaires Secrets.

I tried to be sparing with my abilities. Fiction is great so long as it stays fiction, otherwise you have evil robots or sparkly vampires running around. Still, every once in a while my heroic urges will take over and I am called to help someone with my power to bring words to life. Bridget is one of those people.

More words flowed off the page. “Dane Kustav is well dressed at all times. One would be hard-pressed to ever see Dane not in a suit. If one did see him without a suit, it would be in the bedroom where they would be very, very hard pressed indeed.”

The words spin around me once then drift over to Dan again on an invisible wind. This time his clothes were affected by the words. His grey hoodie which he wore with the hood up, melted off his body, the threads unwinding then rebinding themselves into a far higher quality dress shirt and black jacket complete with a blue tie. His shorts became black dress pants and his sneakers a pair of brown loafers. The outline of his much larger dick was clear in his new tighter pants. A few seconds passed with no changes then, slowly his tie undid itself and each of the buttons on his dress shirt opened so that he was sporting a matching look to that of the man on the cover of the book. Unlike the cover, however, Dan lacked the chiseled face or body to pull off the open shirt. His slight gut and saggy, hairy chest made the outfit look awkward rather than sexy.

Bridget looked up from the sale rack and glanced at her half-nude boyfriend with a chagrined glance. In her mind, he was always dressed in the finest clothes even if he still acted like a man-child.

“Dane Kustav towered over everyone be that in stature or in business.” 

I directed the words into him. Dan shot upwards, his modest 5’10” frame becoming a proud 6’3”, clothes growing to match. And though it wasn’t visible Dan’s head was also filled with business smarts he had lacked before. The game on his phone shifted from Fruit Ninja to Hey Day.

The pages continue to flip, their words leaving the page to float in the air under my command.

“Dane Kustav's muscles were like that of a brass statue, smooth, hard, and golden. Each curve could only have been sculpted by the hands of an artist for nature could never make anybody so perfect.”

I look over at Dan’s soft pudgy body. Not the words I would use to describe him, at least not yet. I float the sentence to him.

Instantly Dan’s belly flattens. One by one his abs pop into being as if pushed out from the inside like one of those pop-it toys. His man boobs visibly transmute from fat to muscle, perking up and then growing into a strong chest like that of the man on the cover of the book. Inside the sleeves of his dress shirt, his arms thicken into a pair of round vascular biceps while his legs below do the same. A tan, like oil spreading over water seeps across his body until his exposed muscles really looked like sculpture bronze turned to life. The few hairs that had looked sloppy before now lent his body a rugged masculinity.

Bridget looks at her boyfriend with a new lust. Her hands start to roam his abs and chest but Dan, still on his phone, only bats them away. 

Man-child indeed, a man in the body, a child in the face and the personality. I divert my attention back to the flipping pages looking for words I could use to fix that. The book is reaching the end, and the main character, assistant to the billionaire, has finally seduced her boss in a very steamy scene. High-class writing it is not, but at least it gives me plenty to work with.

“I ran my hand down his sharp square jaw.” 

I throw the words at him. The shape of his face shifts to be more masculine.

“He looked at me through squinted sexy amber eyes.”

His eyes shift from a pale blue to an amber so rich it almost looked red. He finally looks up from his phone and deep into Bridget's eyes. She returns the stare with a smile. 

“He brought my hand up to his cheek, I felt each bristle of his short sharp stubble.”

Dan moves Bridget's fingers up to his face which is now covered in a sexy two days' worth of growth.

“Then he kissed me with his soft sensual lips hard enough to make me weak in the knees.”

The words flow off the page and into him. His lips grow pillowy and pink and interlocked with Bridget’s. He wraps his muscular arms around her, keeping her steady as she collapses into him. 

“I warp my fingers into his jet-black quaffed hair as I prepare for him to take me.”

His hair gains a stylish cut and is dark as pitch, body hair and stubble do the same. Bridget greedily runs her hand through his new dark dew.

“He smelled like sports deodorant, woody cologne, and sex. I wanted nothing more than this man to take me.”

The bookstore fills with his scent. I am surprised to find myself turned on by the whole thing. I have reached the end of the book, the final page.

“It was then that I learned the billionaire's secret.”

This was the good stuff. I leech the words off the page and send them to Dan, or rather now, Dane.

“His secret wasn’t that he was hot, or rich, or could make any girl swoon.”

Their kiss intensifies. Dane started to undo Bridget's blouse.

“No, the billionaire's secret was.”

Suddenly Dane pulls away.

“The billionaire was gay.”

“Sorry Bridget,” Dane says taking a few steps back and looking at her with sudden realization. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

His eyes wander over to lock onto mine, rich amber orbs seeming to really take me in. He winks. “You thought, I think that could work. What are you doing after this?” He asks smoothly “Want to go get coffee in Paris on my jet? My treat.”

[genderkoolaid]

hey i wanted to get this off my chest and i feel like u r someone who will get it! im an out trans guy and i work with mostly cis queer women, and the other day a trans man (wearing a trans shirt- we chatted :3) shopped in the store and afterwards one of my coworkers (who is my close friend and dating a transmasc person and i trusted her) LITERALLY said she could tell he was a trans guy “because he was too nice and trans guys who are nice are so obviously not actually men” and went on and on. she tried to walk it back a few minutes later with “i mean they’re the real men and cis guys aren’t” i didn’t say anything (i’m a coward) but like fuck. cis women are so comfortable calling us fake men and acting like that’s not a horrific thing to say. like it’s a compliment even. sorry for the rant i just feel so gross and stupid and evil for being a trans guy around women !!!!

need people to understand that "i can clock trans men because they're so nice and docile and polite" is one of those complementary-stereotypes-are-still-harmful things.

for one its kinda giving "women are kinder because they are biologically predisposed to caretaking and motherhood, so they are naturally kind and generous because thats how their brains work :)" misogyny. Obviously a lot of trans men do act differently than cis men because we had to personally confront toxic masculinity and what it means to be a man & likely personally experience (or have in the past) things like misogyny and menstruation. Similarly, a lot of women historically have been motivated to help others because they wanted justice and cared about others lives. But there are also trans men who are huge assholes and women who are deeply selfish and cruel, and a lot of how people are is based on their choices in reaction to the situation they find themselves in by birth, not the situation itself.

Its like. saying "Ashkenazi Jews are biologically smarter than others" sounds like a compliment, and someone might even say it trying to be genuinely nice. But its rooted deeply in antisemitism & notions that Jews are supervillains who could overpower White Christians. There's a difference between "Jewish culture values education and study" and "Jews have higher IQs, because they are essentially a different species, and I totally don't mean this in a Nazi way and if you think that, maybe you're the real antisemite!" Same thing here. If your "compliment" is othering to the people you are complimenting, then you should rethink it.

[ichorai]

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part four (m).

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 18.0k

themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, smut, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, mentions of death, unprotected penetrative sex, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, tons of business talk, talks of nazis/fascism/conservatism, really morally grey shit, roman’s implied demisexuality, kendall & reader's popsicle war, mencken himself is a warning

series masterlist. main masterlist.

A conservative political fundraiser weekend was the last place on earth you wanted to be, but hell—Logan wanted you there, so who were you to say no to the boss? Besides, hubs like this were always good to sniff out who would be the most dangerous people on the red spectrum.

The hall was decked out in lavish decorations—chandeliers and golden ornaments and marble statues every which way you looked. It was full to the brim with mingling politicians of all kinds: the kinds being old white men, or…

Hm. Seemed like it was practically all old white men other than a handful of women wandering around. White women, of course.

You and Shiv locked eyes for a moment. Though the two of you shared many common political interests, at least much more than the rest of the family, you often found yourself on the opposite ends of agreement. But today, in a sea of men with confederate flags for dicks, the two of you found solace in one another. 

“You can smell the panic,” she told you. “Berlin Bunker vibes.”

“They’re scrambling,” you replied. “Nobody was expecting this. Maybe they should’ve.”

Beside you, Roman cuffed your shoulder. “Ooh—the libtard and the soc-commie. How does it feel to be spelunking in the elephant’s asshole?”

“Calling me a communist isn’t the insult you think it is,” you told Roman, rolling your eyes.

“Mmh. I’m sure they would’ve loved you in the 1930s.”

Shiv crossed her arms. “We’re just corporate observers.”

“The weekend isn’t over yet—we’ll get our white cis-male stank all over you,” Roman commented snidely.

It was then that Greg came up to the group, expression muddled with confusion. “Hey, guys, some guy with an undercut just called me a ‘soy boy’. What, uhm, I don’t really know what that means? What is this, actually? Like what’s everyone here for?”

“It’s just a nice political conference of like-minded donors and intellectuals,” Roman told his cousin.

“I wouldn’t call them intellectuals, exactly,” you said with a frown. You were pretty sure half of these men owned podcasts talking about how toxic masculinity is fake, and the other half were so old they didn’t know how to turn the brightness up on their own phone. 

“We’re picking the next president,” Tom piped up, which made Shiv arch a brow.

“That’s not… that’s not really how it works.”

Roman shrugged. “No, sure, but… it kinda is.”

“Is that—is that constitutional?” Greg queried, looking around worriedly, suddenly wondering if he was participating in yet another illegal activity.

“Welcome to the one percent, Greg,” you told him with a sigh. “Where you don’t have to worry about the constitution anymore.”

Roman pinched your cheek. “Awh, look at you, embracing the right-wing traditions! I love that for you.”

Wrinkling your nose, you swatted his hand away. “Six months till election day and still no candidate. Surprised everyone hasn’t unanimously agreed on putting the vice prez up on a pedestal.”

“Steady old plow horse, huh?” Roman said, directing his gaze to the old vice president, Dave Boyer. “He licks his lips too much. Like a—like a cartoon bear when there’s a picnic hamper nearby.”

You laughed at that, and Roman shot you a grin. 

“I’m going to go take a tour. Check out the fresh meat,” he told you, and you nodded. 

“I’ll be near the entrance if you need me.”

With that, he set off to mingle, hands shoved into his pockets to stop him from his habitual itching and scratching.

“Who are you thinking?” Shiv leaned forward to ask.

“Boyer. Seems the most obvious, easiest choice,” you replied, meeting her scrutinizing stare.

“Are you saying that because he is the easiest choice, or because he’d be the easiest to win against?” she asked with a sharp smile.

There was a momentary pause. “Why, who do you think they should put up?”

“I say we go blue.”

Your mouth fell open as you struggled to find the words to respond with. “Shiv, that just—that’d never work.”

“Why not?”

“You realize ATN is fucking—it’s fueled by everything right-wing! For us to suddenly bat for dems would bring nothing but angry conservatives and we’d lose a fuck-ton of shareholder money.” You shook your head. “Look, Shiv, I don’t like them as much as you do. But forcing your dad to swing blue is just a terrible idea.”

Her features hardened. “The least we could do is try. Right?”

Before you could respond, Roman came hurrying back, phone clutched tightly in his hand. He shoved the screen up against his sister’s face. “Did you know about this, you withholding bitch?”

“Uh, what?” 

“You know Glyn, the, uh, the Brexit pervert?” Roman said, gesturing to the tall British chap with a large nose. “Yeah, he just sent this to me—apparently our mother is marrying Peter Munion.”

Both you and Shiv doubled with surprise. “What?” she asked. “Who’s Peter Onion?”

“I don’t fucking know. I wonder if that first-born fucker knew,” Roman said. 

“I mean, if you guys didn’t know, I’m sure Connor wouldn’t have known, either,” you ventured, glancing over at the eldest sibling chattering to two other politicians about abolishing taxes.

Snorting, Roman replied, “No, the other first-born fucker. Kenny Dick.”

“Ah. Right.”

“Call him.” Shiv nudged her brother.

With a hum, Rome whipped his phone out and called his brother, putting it on speaker phone for the two of you to hear.

“Yeah, what?” Kendall’s voice came through on the second ring.

“Hey. Just wanted you to know that new dad just dropped.”

There was a brief crackle of silence. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Mummy’s getting married, you dingus.”

“Did you know?” Shiv leaned forward to query.

Roman snickered. “Of course he didn’t know, Ken bores the shit out of mom.”

You remembered one Christmas when you were children, the family was exchanging gifts—Kendall had set down a little red box in front of Caroline so she could open it. Something hand-made? You’d always wondered. The wrapping was shoddy. It was forgotten and pushed off to the side in favor of prettier, more expensive-looking presents. You were pretty sure Caroline hadn’t even seen the gift. Or maybe she did. Maybe she just didn’t care to open it. Nonetheless, Kendall, thirteen years of age, didn’t try to give it to her again. That night, when the servants were tossing away all the stray wrappings and ribbons, you caught sight of the crumpled red box chucked into a black garbage bag. You didn’t dwell on it, because Roman had heckled you away soon after to ‘watch’ Shiv play with her new dollhouse.

“What are you even talking about?” Kendall asked. He sounded angry. “You mean, she’s marrying Rory?”

“Uh, no. She took the view ‘Fuck Rory’,” Shiv said, glib.

Sneering, Kendall abruptly changed the subject. “Hey, Shiv, is it true you’re at the hate-fest? Burning books and measuring skulls down in Virginia?” 

“Yeah,” Shiv deadpanned. “What are you doing with your weekend? Planning to send us all to jail? Your favorite past-time?”

Before it could escalate into a full-on argument, Roman pulled the phone close to him and said, “Alright, just wanted to let you know that Mummy still doesn’t love you. Bye, Ken!”

With that, he hung up.

“Do you think your mom is going to invite me to her wedding?” you asked, wrinkling your nose at the prospect of going all the way across the ocean when you had so much work piled up. “And would she be offended if I didn’t come?”

“Oh, she’s definitely inviting you. You know how she is. Needs everyone who knows of her existence to see how rich and pompous she is. She’d have a grudge against you if you didn’t come,” Roman told you.

You frowned, and Roman laughed.

“We can be each other’s date. It’ll be fun. Don’t worry about it.” He rubbed your shoulder, and began leading you off to the bar to get some drinks. 

“Your mother would love that. Us, being each other’s dates? She’d gloat in our faces that she’s known all along,” you mused with a grin, before leaning against the counter and asking the bartender for your preferred drink.

“Or she’d be too self-absorbed to notice. And it’s okay for her to be that way because it’s her own wedding.” Pulling a sour face, Roman shook his head. “Blegh. I can’t believe she’s actually marrying someone named Bunion.”

You laughed softly. “Munion.”

“Whatever.”

Before either of you could say anything else, a figure approached the bar, standing just beside Roman.

“Hey guys,” said Mencken. “What’s up?”

Both you and Roman turned your heads to him. He shot you a glance, noting the unimpressed raised eyebrow.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, it’s the—it’s the ghost pepper. The spicy new flavor, Mencken.” Rome gave the taller man a onceover, drawing a long sip from his glass.

Mencken’s keen eyes darted from Rome to you, and back to Roman, scrutinizing. Burning. You couldn’t quite gauge what he was thinking, but knowing all the hot bullshit he liked to spew on the internet, you were sure it’d be nothing good.

Him as president? That’d be like putting a mask on Hitler and crowning him King of the nation.

“So what’s your deal? Most people here want to fuck me or kill me.” Mencken asked, leaning against the bar. “I’m hoping it’s the former.”

You weren’t quite sure if that was directed to you or Roman, but you were disgusted, either way. 

Roman clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Ooh, wow. I always found it hard to care about politics, so… I trust in Y/N to have enough opinions for the both of us.”

He gave you a fond pat on the shoulder and you spared your friend a stiff smile.

“Right, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you,” Mencken said, sticking his hand out. 

Staring down at his extended palm, you took a second to consider flat out ignoring him. But, not wanting to cause a scene, you shook it firmly, nodding curtly. “Likewise,” you lied.

When you pulled away, you made the conscious choice to discreetly wipe your palm onto your pants.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. The both of you, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you deadpanned, straightfaced.

“Tabloids never shut up.”

“They hardly ever do.”

Mencken crossed his arms. “To be honest, I always thought you two were just a PR stunt. You know the vibes… look away from all the sexual harassment, because the prince and princess of Waystar are being all snuggly at a charity event! But now that I’m looking at you in person…”

His words struck a nerve within you. A muscle in your jaw twitched. 

Roman laughed, nervous. “We aren’t—we aren’t, like, a thing. I mean we—we kind of are, but we’re also not really—”

The older man whistled sharply, lifting a hand to stop him, as if he were a dog. “No need to explain to me. I’ve been down that road many, many times.”

“Roman and I are close,” you told him, voice steely. “The details are none of your, or the public’s concern.”

The way Mencken smiled was wolfish. Greedy, almost. 

“Alright, here’s my party trick,” he said to the two of you. “Tell me who your enemy is, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

A part of you wanted to laugh. Where did he get that from, an alpha male, raw meat-eating youtuber’s podcast?

Roman sucked in a breath, amused. “Oh-kay. Let’s put a pin in that one.” He took another sip. “I’ve seen your poll numbers. You’re dark-horsin’ shit. Are people buying your whole… thing?”

Facism. That’s what Roman was alluding to. This man was a fucking fascist. The two of you were entertaining a fascist! You couldn’t believe what you’ve come to. 

Mencken chuckled. “They better buy it. Or I’ll send them to the Gulag.”

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, wrinkling your nose. 

“No, no, no. Not work camps. Just—summer camps. It’ll be like summer camps,” Mencken said. 

“Summer camps but with beatings, right?” Roman asked, unsure if the man beside him was joking or not.

“No, no. Shh—no beatings.”

Mencken winked. He fucking winked! To your surprise, Roman laughed, genuine and chesty. 

“Wow. Tough crowd, huh?” Mencken said, meeting your unamused eyes. “You always struck me as the quiet little country mouse. No wonder you’re sticking to the big-gun citymen.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I don’t find labor camps all that funny,” you remarked, drumming your fingers along the countertop. 

“I’m just kidding. We’re joking around.” He elbowed Roman’s arm. “Is she always this uptight?”

You had to admit that it stung just a bit when Roman tipped his head back and laughed. “It’s what I like most about her. Ain’t that right, schnookums?”

You sniffed in disdain, shrugging off his hand when he placed it on your shoulder. You weren’t a huge fan of how… warm Roman was to him. It felt vile, and it felt wrong. 

Tilting his head, Mencken smacked his lips together and started up, “So, uh… do you guys know yet? Who takes over?”

Roman stopped sipping his drink and set it down. “What’s that?”

“When they send the old battletoad off to the hoosegow.” His eyes glinted. “Your dad, Logan. Admiral Grope Boat.”

“Yeah, no, he’s not… that’s actually not happening,” said Roman. He scratched at the back of his head. 

Mencken cackled at that. “Hah, yeah, that’s right. Stick to the line. That’s good.”

The two of them smiled at each other.

A sudden pit of nausea started curling within your stomach. 

Boyer and Salgado approached the bar, striking up a conversation with Mencken, effectively roping his attention away from the two of you. You downed your drink and leaned against Roman with a mild hum.

“I really thought this event would be more interesting,” you admitted.

Shoulders shaking with his chuckling, Roman asked you, “What, did you think there’d be a gun-slinging showdown? Old western-style?”

“Well, yeah. What else do conservatives do?”

The two of you snickered under your breath. 

It was then that Shiv came to stand by you, ordering a drink for herself. “Hey. What’ve you guys sniffed out?”

You offered her half a shrug, glancing over at Mencken. With a lowered voice, you said, “A lot of rotten apples in the orchard.”

The siblings both hummed at that—Shiv in agreement, Roman in amusement. 

“Look at us, playing nice,” you overheard Salgado tell Mencken. To your credit, they weren’t quite using their inside voices. “People might think we liked each other.”

“Hey, I’m a conservative! I like tradition,” Mencken protested. “I doff my cap to vice president Boyer’s years of loyal service.”

“Thank you. I believe you used to call me Martin Van Boring.”

Mencken grinned. “Hey, come on! No, I still call you that.”

Nodding, Boyer shifted to speak to everyone else gathered around the bar. “Listen, Mencken and I may differ in some areas, but, uh, we both agree that this is the party of the working class now.”

Shiv pulled an incredulous face, scoffing loud. 

“What? You don’t agree, Shiv?” Boyer asked. “All the richest counties in America are blue. The Democrats and tech hold all the wealth.”

“Oh, yes, because everyone here is scrounging through their couches for loose change,” you snidely commented, coolly meeting Boyer’s gaze. 

The old man licked at his lips, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “Come now, I’m talking about the general public. We don’t count.”

Why not?

“I just think some of us get so high off of owning the libs, we forget to talk policy,” said Salgado.

Mencken snorted. “Yeah, Rick loves to talk policy! What he does is he memorizes a National Review issue from 2012 and then recites it back to you. Cool policy, bro.”

This made Salgado frown. “Mmh, Jeryd hates to talk policy because it would mean, you know, having one.”

Roman whistled sarcastically. “Sick burn, brosef!”

“Oh, no, no. We’re kidding. We are!” Mencken insisted. He smiled at you and Roman. “We like each other. I listen to his speeches every night. Yeah. They help me drop off.”

Out of the three politicians, you had to admit that Salgado was the most appealing. Sure, he was a pushover and really only concerned about his public image rather than what he was promoting, but it was better than Mencken the fascist and Boyer the conservative lip-licker. 

“Maybe it’s boring talking about populist solutions for working families,” said Salgado.

“Rick, come on! You jerked off to Reagan’s headshot for thirty years, and now you’re Tom Joad?” Mencken jeered.

Rolling her eyes, Shiv told you, “God, this shit is so fucking boring.”

Overhearing, Mencken gave the woman a onceover. “What’s that?”

“Hm?” Shiv met his gaze. “No, I’ve just—I’ve seen your thing quite a lot.”

Mencken uncrossed his arms and then crossed them again. He was frowning, brows knitting together—evidently he didn’t quite like being tested.

“And what’s that? What’s my thing?”

“Youtube provocateur bullshit,” Shiv told him with a bitter laugh. “Aristo-populism. ‘Rape is natural, it’s all red pill, baby.’ I’m just—I’m just so fucking over it.”

“Have you read Plato?” asked Mencken. 

Oh, God. Was he really pulling the philosophical literature superiority card? Was he being serious?

“Yeah,” Shiv said in a mocking voice. “Remind me, what happens?”

“Oh, read Plato! Read Plato!” Mencken told her, his manner condescending.

“Don’t want to!” Shiv exclaimed. “I don’t fucking want to!”

Salgado cut in, “See, he doesn’t actually want to have a conversation. He just wants to yell loud enough to get on ATN.”

“Nah! Fuck ATN,” Mencken said. The room fell silent, and all eyes were on him. For a moment, he looked at you and Roman, the two of you watching him with muted interest. You wondered if he was seeking both of your approvals. “No, really, ATN is treated as a bulwark, but it’s dead. It’s basically a pudding cup at 5 PM in the nursing home. It’s status quo bedtime stories to maximize shareholder value.”

Though you didn’t want to agree with any of Mencken’s sentiments, you had to admit that his take on ATN was a valid one. ATN was hardly a reliable source, with its heavy right-wing influences. To you, it was merely a station to feed into the delusions of the older conservative generation. At the thought, you looked over your shoulder to Logan, seated on a table not too far from the bar. You only saw his back, but you wondered if he was listening in.

“Honestly, it doesn’t speak to me,” Mencken continued on. “Doesn’t speak to the people I talk to.”

“And who is it you talk to?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Mencken stared at you for a moment before answering, “People who want to see the truth. See the natural order of things.”

“Natural order. Wow,” you whispered under your breath. With that, you ordered another drink. You couldn’t listen to all this bullshit sober. 

Mencken nodded. “Logan Roy was an icon. But, you know… he’s no longer relevant.”

“Do you recognize this fucker?” Roman asked, shoving the phone in Shiv’s face.

“Nope,” she said.

You peered over his shoulder to see the wedding invitation on his screen, zoomed into his mother’s fiance’s face. 

“Fucking jelly-boned, low-T, pip-pip cheerio fucker,” Roman muttered as he shut the phone off and slid it back into his suit jacket’s pocket.

You pressed the button on the elevator to go up. Logan had called all of you up to the royal suite to discuss options for the next red presidential candidate—something you weren’t at all looking forward to. “He doesn’t look all that bad. Do you think your dad knows?”

The doors slid open and the three of you filed in.

Roman tilted his head. “No. But we have to stop the wedding, right?” 

Both you and Shiv exchanged incredulous looks. 

“Stop obsessing over Mom’s new husband,” Shiv told her brother. “Just get over it. Who cares?”

Narrowing his eyes, Roman asked, “Get over it? It just fucking happened. My mother’s marrying some dickhead, crooked-toothed turnip man.”

“His teeth looked quite nice in the picture, actually—” you began, before falling silent at Roman’s loud groan.

“What’s wrong is how little you care about it, you frozen bitch,” Roman commented off-handedly, making Shiv roll her eyes.

“Oh, poor Rome! His dreams of porking Mom are slipping through his little lubed-up fingers!” she leered, snickering a little.

A frown crossed your features. “It’s okay to care about it, Shiv. I mean… it’s your mom.”

“Something she often forgets,” she murmured, and that marked the end of the conversation.

The elevator rolled to a halt, the doors opening once more to a grand hall. The door to the suite was all the way down, and the three of you made your way there in contemplative silence. Logan was inside to greet you, along with Tom, Hugo, Connor, and Greg (who was awkwardly lingering by the curtained windows). 

“There’s a lot of chat flying around. A lot of flapping,” your godfather said once everyone had settled in. “We need one voice on this, or we could fall apart and hand it to the fuck-fuck donkey gang.”

Donkey gang, obviously meaning the democrats. You spared Shiv a look—she was seated away from her husband, frowning down at her hands.

“So… who do we like?” Logan asked.

Shiv cleared her throat and said, “Shouldn’t we kick it around for a bit? Feels like it’s poised, so if you and Petkus come together, and the other donors follow, it just—”

“Exactly,” Logan deadpanned. “We’re picking. We haven’t got all night.”

Occupying one of the long sofas all on his own, Connor put forth, “I like Connor Roy.”

The room lapsed into silence for a few seconds. Roman smiled, amused.

Calling back to the short conversation you had with Shiv earlier, she said, “Honestly, Dad, I think you go Dems.”

Immediately, the two brothers in the room reacted with incredulity.

“Wow,” Connor scoffed.

“Jesus Christ! What, are we all going to hold hands and sing kumbaya next?” Roman exclaimed. Then, he sat up straighter. “Uhm, I… I kinda like Mencken? But—I know he’s kind of shitty, so if it’s now, I guess I’d say Boyer. But can I also just say that I don’t like Boyer?”

Though you were not at all happy that Roman was leaning for Mencken, you had to agree that Boyer was a safe choice. You crossed your arms. “Hard pass to Mencken. I say we go Boyer. Vice is nice, no?”

Shiv sighed loudly.

“What? What’s with the fucking attitude?” Roman asked.

The redhead held her hands out. “Okay, look, no disrespect, but Boyer was yesterday’s papers. The Dems will run on change and blow him away.”

“Ooh, Mrs. Politics,” crooned Roman. “How many big races did you win as a consultant? Four? Three? Did you win two? One?” He held up his middle finger.

She scowled. “Roman, Boyer is not a winner, and we know that.”

“Okay, then, should we talk to Mencken?” he asked. “See if we can deal?”

Vehement, Shiv said, “Uh, can I just say something? Mmh, no. Mencken is an integralist, nativist fuckhead. He’s toxic! He’s fucking—he’s ‘medicare for all, abortions for none.’ And his idea of diplomacy is shooting roe deer with Viktor Orban and then starting the trade war with China! Look, I know that there’s the carnival bark, and there’s the fucking show, but he’s outside the American political tradition. I think we have a responsibility as Waystar—”

She was cut off when Roman began humming the national anthem.

“Fuck you, Roman!” she spat out.

You put a hand on his arm, and he stopped humming. “I know my opinion here means little to nothing, but… I don’t like Mencken. He’s radical, and he’s dangerous. I’m not saying we swing blue, either. I’m saying we stay safe with Boyer. Our position right now is… precarious. It’s the best option we have.”

Logan studied you, and nodded twice. He was never one for safe options, though. You knew that full and well.

Both Roman and Shiv burst into an argument then, lobbing insults back and forth at each other. Tom stared blankly at the ground, looking even more exhausted than he usually did.

“Stop being a dirty little pixie whispering swastikas into Dad’s ear!” Shiv ground out.

“Boom! There you go again! So fucking route one!” Roman exclaimed. 

The scowl on her face deepened. “I’m not saying it’s going to be the full Third Reich, but I am genuinely concerned that we could slide into a fucking Russian Berlusconied Brazilian fuckpile!”

Raising his brows, Roman shot back, “You have a trophy husband and several fur coats. I think you’re gonna be fine.”

“Tom,” Logan said, seemingly unaffected by the harsh bickering. “Who do you like?”

“Me? I, uh… I think Shiv talks a lot of sense. I also jibe with Salgado.”

Blowing out a breath, Roman said, “You jibe with him? Pretty sure that’s racist, Tom.”

“Salgado is another safe alternative,” you said. “Just not… not Mencken.”

This made Roman nudge his elbow into you. “I thought you were all about giving people chances! Mencken, he’s… you and him have a lot of beliefs in common, actually!”

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

“You’re, uh, both against free-market capitalism! That counts for something, right? Why don’t you just give him a chance?” 

You pinched the space between your brows. “Rome—”

Before you had a chance to finish, Roman was addressing Logan. “Dad, I know you came to the market to get a nice milk cow, but we found ourselves a fucking T-rex, okay? He’s box-office. The guy is fucking diesel. I mean, he’s good on camera. He’s fun! He’ll fight. Viewers will eat out of his hand. No downside.”

“Uh, right, no downside. Let’s just invade Poland, Dad!” Shiv scoffed. “His chief of staff broke a kid’s jaw at a rally!”

“If we don’t come to an accommodation, we get outflanked and we lose the ATN dollar machine when we need cash to fight Tech. Right? Shiv wants her way, I want my way, Connor wants his way, so that’s even.”

Vehemently, Shiv protested, “It’s not fucking even! My opinion counts for more!”

Everyone looked to her, miffed. She sounded more like a child than anything. 

“No, it does! It just fucking does! I know this! People hate Mencken. They fucking hate that guy!” Shiv lowered her voice, as if just realizing that she was yelling a notch too loud. “You have to look at the climate.”

 From the windows, Greg raised a hand. “Do I—do I get a vote?”

“Oh, sure, buddy. You get to vote at the election with all the other folks,” Roman told his cousin, humorously.

“Yeah, well, I just thought I’d get a… bigger vote in here?”

Ignoring him, Hugo said, “Boyer is likely to be flexible over the DOJ.”

“Not if he doesn’t win,” Shiv said. “Which… he won’t.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” you sighed. “You’re blue, Shiv.”

“My personal politics and the company’s values are on opposite ends of the spectrum,” she clarified. “I have to put the company before myself.”

“Okay, we’re hearing rumors that the case is weakening,” Hugo said. “No one big is likely to do jail time. With the notable exception of Tom, of course. Sorry, Tom.”

Visibly, Tom’s shoulders seemed to stiffen, but he nodded nonetheless. “No, please, Hugo… understood.”

Shiv turned to address her father again. “If you don’t go blue, Dad, then at least we have to be backing Salgado.”

This made Connor audibly groan. “Ugh. Señor Dickless. Captain of the Tampa Bay Cuckaneers.”

“Look, I don’t like him. He’s a neocon pretending to be a paleocon, but he at least talks base!” Shiv said. 

Roman clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Wow. I think you’re so brave for picking the brown man. I think that we should get you a medal! A special medal for white women who like brown men.”

“Wow, okay. You’re just being racist! You’re being racist now!” Shiv said, swinging her incredulous gaze from you to her father.

In a mocking tone, Roman said, “Oh, yeah, I’m a good girl! I pretend to care about people because nobody ever cares about me!”

“Hm. Roman, do you have anything you wanna tell Dad? A message from Mom, maybe?”

He recoiled, frowning. “Uh, yeah, wow. Fuck you! Thanks, I do.” Roman looked to his dad, and he could feel the familiar fear creeping up and seizing his ribcage. It helped that you’d shifted your hand to lay over his, but only barely. “Mom’s getting remarried.”

Logan nodded, contemplative. “Hm. To Bertie Woofter?”

“Ooh, no. To Peter. Peter, uh, Peter Munson.”

“Munion,” you whispered.

“Peter Munion,” Roman corrected. 

Anger clouded over Logan’s eyes. “You’re fucking kidding. The seat sniffer? Christ. He’s been hanging around for forty-some years!”

“Yeah, and, well, she’d love it if you came to their big Tuscan wedding.”

“Ooh, La-di-da,” Logan said, sucking in a deep breath. “And they sent you as their messenger boy?”

He laughed and laughed. Roman shrugged.

“Okay,” the old man finally said. “Back to it, then. Who are we picking?”

“I guess there are other names,” Hugo offered. Connor coughed pointedly into his fist, but nobody paid him any mind.

Firm, Logan said, “We have to be united on this. It’s a disaster if we splinter.”

“Salgado has great narrative,” Shiv said.

Scowling, Roman spat out, “Quit butt-huffing Salgado! We all supported your little DC lemonade stand, but this is the real fucking world. This actually matters.”

Lip curled, Shiv replied, voice dripping with venom, “Roman, you just love the boot because you like to be kicked by it.”

Clearly hurt, Roman sucked in a deep breath and picked a piece of lint off his pants.

Connor coughed again, and Logan finally asked him what was on his mind.

“Nothing,” the eldest son said. “No, it’s nothing.”

As if to entertain a ludicrous notion, Logan smiled. “What about Connor?”

“I do believe that idea has good promise,” Connor exclaimed. “I do!”

“I could see it,” Logan said. It was strange seeing him smile in such a way. You couldn’t quite decipher its genuinity. “Kids?”

With a slight snicker, Roman raised his brows. “Uhm… sure, I don’t know.” After a pause, he straightened and asked in a more serious tone, “Wait, but, like—really?”

“It feels very…” You winced, sending Connor an apologetic look. “Very nepo baby? Very rigged.”

Roman shrugged. “They’re all fucking weirdos, anyway. Why not?”

“I mean, he’s a good-looking kid,” Logan said. “He’s smart… in his own way. Fucking Joe Kennedy did it for his boys, no? So let’s get him in there with a smile and a shoeshine and get Ron and everyone behind him.”

No way the matter was settled. Shiv crossed her arms, eyes darting every which way in an incredulous manner. 

“I would fight so fuckin’ hard for this family, Pop,” Connor told his dad, warmth spilling over his features. 

Logan casted his gaze over to his daughter. “Siobhan. As a political consultant… what do you think?”

“Well, no huge name ID, but the family name will be a factor and… uh, he’s got no track record.”

“Nothing to beat me with,” Connor emphasized with a charming grin. “I’m a clean skin!”

They yammered on some more, and Roman rubbed his knuckles along his hairline, seeming stressed. He pulled out his phone and shot out a few texts really quickly, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

Finally, once he put the device away, Roman shook his head. “Okay, but, are we being serious about this? We’re talking about trying to make Connor president?”

All the warmth drained from Connor’s face, replaced by a marring frown. “It’s a big tent, Roman. Why don’t you just come in?”

“Sure. Right. I might just call the guy who waxes my balls, he would be a great president, don’t you think?” Roman retorted.

Shiv interjected once more. “If we’re talking about this seriously, I really think we need to take a look at Salgado. Can I bring him up here without being fucking shot?”

Connor rolled his eyes and Roman groaned.

Finally, Logan’s eyes landed on you.

“You’re for Boyer, Y/N?”

You sat up straighter. “I think he’s safe. Most conservatives like safe. Or, at least, the illusion of safety. Boyer can give them that.”

There was a second of a pause, before Logan nodded. “Hugo. Call Boyer.”

“Well, if Shiv gets to bring up soggy Salgado then I wanna see if we can tame Mencken, okay?” Roman asked just as Hugo handed Logan the phone. In a quieter voice, Roman leaned forward to whisper to just you, “I arranged a meeting with him tonight. Come with?”

You reared back, eyes narrowing. “What? No, Roman.”

“Please? Just… you don’t even have to say anything. Just hear him out. What if he’s not all that bad?”

You blew out a steely breath. Meeting with a fascist was certainly not something you ever thought you’d agree to do. 

Begrudging, you muttered, “Fine. But please, Roman, don’t be serious about him. I’m begging you.”

Roman gave you a half-shrug, which didn’t quell any worries you had one bit. “We’ll just see how the dice rolls.”

When Boyer finally picked up the phone, the two of you lapsed into silence, listening in on the conversation. His voice was groggy, as if he’d just been woken up. He didn’t sound too happy at Logan’s request to come to the room.

“Oh… and my fridge is empty, Dave. I don’t suppose you could bring me a Coke?” Logan said. You raised a brow in surprise whilst Roman smiled down at his lap. It was a power play—a reminder to Boyer that he ate out of Logan’s palms.

“Did you mean to call room service?” the vice’s voice crackled through.

“If you don’t have a Coke, is there something else? Could you, perhaps, fire the deputy attorney general?”

“Fire the deputy attorney general?” Boyer parroted, twinged with disbelief. 

Logan smiled, laughing. “I’m kidding. Come on over. Have a chat. If it’s convenient, of course.”

Five minutes later, Boyer was at the suite’s door. You had no time to listen to his talk with Logan, because Roman was already up and pulling you out the door. He spared no explanation to Shiv, who watched the two of you leave with suspicious eyes. 

You took the elevator a floor down, where Mencken’s room was. 

Roman was the one that knocked, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet anxiously. 

“Come in!” you faintly heard Mencken’s voice say. Both you and Roman exchanged looks, yours warning and his pleading, in a sense.

He wanted so badly for your approval.

The two of you stepped in, met with an empty hotel room. It took you another moment to realize that the bathroom door was ajar, Mencken standing in front of the mirror with just a towel hanging over his hips, shaving foam shadowing over his chin and jaw. He was dragging a razor through the white foam, a smile to his lips upon seeing the both of you.

“Hey, guys. Glad to see you again.”

Roman smiled back, leaning against the bathroom’s door frame while you lingered behind him.

“So… I—we just wanted to chit-chat a little bit. That was funny earlier, by the way. You tripping the light fantastic on Grandpappy’s nutsack.”

Mencken hummed. “When I called your dad bullshit? Did that bump?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve never seen that before. That was fucking hardcore,” Roman commented. “Y/N isn’t a fan of ATN either, as it turns out.”

For a moment, you sent Roman a half-hearted glare. He’d said that you wouldn’t have to say anything.

“Ooh. Waystar’s princess, not liking Waystar? How meaty.” Mencken tilted his head back to shave the nooks and crannies that were harder to maneuver around. “Good for you, though. The thing is… this monkey don’t dance.”

Roman laughed, pointing at him. “This monkey right here? The monkey shaving in a hotel bathroom?”

“That’s right.” Finally, Mencken rinsed off the last bits of foam from his face, wiping off the excess dampness with a towel. There wasn’t a single nick on his face—you thought of the many times you’ve watched Roman shaved, when he always somehow managed to garner a dozen or so tiny cuts along his jaw. Mencken turned to face the two of you. 

“Listen, I did want to talk to you about something. Fuck it, I’ll just come right out and say it.” Roman eased into the bathroom, leaning against the wall opposite Mencken, tugging you in as well. It was a strange feeling—you’d never had a meeting in a bathroom before. Wrinkling his nose, Roman said, “Fascists are kind of cool… but not really. So, is that, like, gonna be a problem? Will it be a thing?”

It unnerved you when Mencken sighed, stepping closer to the both of you. So close, in fact, that you could smell the shaving cream he’d used. Your brows furrowed in distaste and fixed your stare on the tile down below your feet.

“Seriously? Me? I just… I don’t have a lot of boundaries.” 

Evidently, you wanted to snap. But you kept quiet.

“St. Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Schumacher. I’ll borrow from anyone. To restrict me to that label is just… it’s not right, is it? You know, if Franco or H or Travis Bickle had a good pitch, fuck it!”

This made you tear your gaze away from the ground, meeting Mencken’s stare head-on. He was much closer that you realized, and that made you all the more uncomfortable. 

“H?” you finally croaked. “As in—?”

He spared you a wolfish smile. “I’m a fully-fledged, small-dicked Democrat.”

“I don’t think you are,” you challenged. 

This made him tilt his head and bark out a laugh. “Which one? Small-dicked or a Democrat? Because I can tell you now that neither of those are true, sweetheart.” Your unamused countenance seemed to only fuel him further. “A well-regulated election is a transmission frequency for God’s grace, really.”

“Holy shit,” Roman whistled. “You really are a Christian, aren’t you?”

“Well, no, no, my only thing is like—who’s the stakeholder, right? I’ve been tending my little garden for a hundred years, and then forty new guys show up in the back of a truck, playing their boombox. When it’s put to a vote, they decide to, uh, give my farm to themselves. I mean, it’s ridiculous, right? Maybe we should be putting in before we get to take out.”

There was so much to pick apart with his ideology. So many flaws, so many weak-links. But you didn’t say anything.

Instead, Roman asked, “Okay, well, who gets to join?” 

“People trust people who look like them. That’s just a scientific fact. They will give more tax dollars to help them,” Mencken said. “And I know you look nothing like me, ma’am, so I’ll just say it plain and clear. I don’t trust you, and you don’t trust me. But that’s just part of the thrill, no?”

You recoiled back into Roman. “What the fuck are you talking about? What thrill? Can you just—back up a bit? You’re all up in my fucking personal space.” 

Your scowl loosened just a tad when Mencken raised his hands and took a step back. He snorted. “Sorry. Don’t cancel me. Or do. I don’t think it matters much, right?”

He was right, but you didn’t say it.

“I like this country,” Mencken admitted. “I do. I like the people in it.”

“Not all the people, though, right?” you carefully asked.

“Of course, not. And don’t get all high and mighty on me. You can’t say you like all the people in it, now can you?” You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. “We aren’t too different, you and I. Roman… I see why he’s taken a liking to you. You have some sense about you.”

You gave Roman a questioning glance, wondering what on earth he’d said to Mencken through text.

You clenched your jaw. “I’m not here for you,” you finally breathed out. “You can’t sway me, Mencken.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.”

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Roman finally intervened before you could get too heated, “In terms of, you know, this thing we have… there’s a thing here, right?” 

“Mhm.”

“I get it. You’re fucking 6G and we’re Betamax, but you need us, I think. Our news, our viewers, those fucking almost-deads. That’s a big slice of pie,” Roman explained. 

“Well, if I’m the nominee… are any of them really going to vote against me?” he asked.

Half a shrug lifting one of his shoulders, Rome said, “No, but… it’s going to be a fucking shitshow going into the convention. I think you could really use our push.”

You weren’t happy about any of this. But Logan had already called Boyer. The deal was done, right? You’d walk back up to the suite, and the next red-wing electee would be picked. This was all… for nothing.

Right?

Mencken nodded. “And I think you could use my push.”

“Maybe,” Roman admitted.

“Where are you in all this?” Mencken asked Roman, curiously. “What’s the little forgotten Prince doing?”

Roman made a nervous, whooshing sound. “I’m, uh, you know. I’m creeping on the come-up.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mencken glanced at you, as if to decipher whether or not he was telling the truth. You betrayed nothing, looking back down at the tiles.

“I’ve got some ideas for ATN. Sluice out the fucking porridge and add some sriracha. Poach some of those TikTok psychos, you know? E-girls with fucking guns and Juul pods. Give me some straight-shot blacks and latinos. That’ll get a few generations turning heads. No more of this fucking… pillows and bedpans. We’re strictly bone broth and dick pills. Deep state conspiracy hour but with, like, a fucking wink, you know? It’ll be funny.” Roman clapped his hands together. “The whole show is kinda set up for the star. President Jeryd Mencken.”

Your face soured.

“I like that,” Mencken said, stroking his freshly-shaved jaw. “I like that a lot.”

“Well, I don’t. Good fucking luck, Roman.” With that, you straightened your shoulders and marched out of the bathroom, needing to get away from the two of them. You needed air. More importantly, you needed to get up to the suite and ask if they’d settled for Boyer.

The two men stood in the bathroom, silent for a few moments.

“I think she likes me.” Mencken smirked.

Roman scratched at the back of his head. He was really hoping you’d see the better side of Mencken, like he did. He just hoped that you weren’t too angry with him. You hardly ever got mad, but when you did, it always felt like the end of the world to him.

“Right… can you, uh… come up and say hello or something to him? My dad?” Roman glanced at the door. “Oh, and bring a can of Coke with you.”

Logan chose Mencken.

That night, you crawled into the cold hotel bed and cried. You felt so… so trapped in a life that you didn’t want to live. You briefly wondered what would happen to you if you quit your job entirely, but you pushed the thought away almost as quickly as it came. It wasn’t something you liked to entertain.

Half an hour later, you could hear your door opening. 

Right. You’d forgotten that Roman had asked for another set of the key card to your room. You quietly wiped your tears away, grateful that it was too dark for him to see.

He slipped in behind you, sliding his arms over your waist and pressing his nose into the back of your neck. 

“Are you mad at me?” he asked.

You chose not to reply, pretending to be asleep.

“It’ll be good,” he said, eventually. “He’ll be good. I promise. His dick is big enough for the both of us.”

You shifted your foot just a bit, but that was enough for Roman to know that you were awake.

“Stop ignoring me.”

“I don’t want you here,” you murmured.

There was a shuffle behind you. Roman cleared his throat. It was so unbearably tense.

“If it’s Mencken you’re worried about—”

“I don’t want you here,” you repeated, a warbling edge to your voice. “I love you, Roman. Please leave.”

He went stiff. One second, then two, then three. 

“I love you, too,” he finally said. It was said with no joking tone, no playful quips, no inappropriate remarks. It wasn’t often that Roman told you that he loved you, at least compared to the number of times you’d say it to him. Maybe it was because he never knew if you meant I love you, or I’m in love with you.

And with that, he slowly slipped his hands off of you, and got back onto his feet. He made a show of leaving the key card on the nightstand, before making his way out of your hotel room.

He shut the door behind him, standing in front for a minute. A part of him wanted you to open up and beg him to come back. An even more delusional part of him expected you to do so.

Instead, Roman could hear your muffled sobs ricochet from behind the door. Something within him seized up. He turned on his heel and left.

Kendall had invited you to his birthday party, to your surprise. After all that transpired between the two of you, you hardly expected to be wanted at his party. Though, from what you heard, it was hardly a personal affair.

It didn’t seem like your kind of event, honestly, and you hardly had a reason to go. You loved Kendall, but you could tell him that any other day of the year, when he wasn’t surrounded by fucking vagina-entrances, childhood treehouse replicas, and miniature Wu-Tang dancers. Though, Kendall told you to keep that last bit on the down low. The dancers were meant to be a surprise.

But you weren’t at all planning on going. 

That was, until Logan decided otherwise for you.

There was a problem with GoJo, and Logan was pissed that Matsson hadn’t shown up. Something about blatant disrespect, he’d said. 

“He’s going to this fucking party, isn’t he?” Logan had barked. “Huh? Where is he? Getting his nails done? Asshole whitened?”

Roman squinted at his dad. “I think we just have to court him a little, is the thing—”

“Bah. No. It’s bad fucking juju to start like this,” Logan snippily said.

You quirked a brow, knowing Logan was never one to be superstitious. 

Shiv and Roman both tried to broach more options, but Logan shut them all down. “The deal makes sense. It’s a great deal. But he won’t make the deal because he’s being an arrogant prick.”

“Fine. Yeah, sure, Matsson’s an asshole. But should we really burn our only parachute because of that?” Shiv stressed.

Logan leaned back in his seat, regarding his daughter. “It’s just smart business, Shiv. I don’t want to pay over the odds. And eventually, the market will make him make the deal.”

You shook your head. “The market has plenty of better hands to deal him.”

“Someone can make a better offer, and we’d be screwed,” Roman agreed. 

“Dad, we have a scale issue. Our streaming platform is for shit, and we have nothing that looks like growth,” Shiv added on. “This gets us consequently into streaming, into sports betting—social media! We have a little window. Miss this, and we end up being pilot fish nibbling leftovers from Bezos’ fucking teeth. Dad, please. If you don’t want to talk to Matsson, fine. But let me.”

“Let us,” Roman interjected. “We can all do it. He’s gonna be at the party, right? We’ll go.”

“You’re going?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow at Shiv.

Her eyes darted from her father to her brother. “Mhm.”

Heaving out a breath, Logan nodded. “Y/N, you go with them. Don’t go in too strong. This is a black box, and I don’t want to overpay.”

You wondered if Logan wanted you there to help broker the deal, or if he wanted you there to make sure Roman and Shiv didn’t start clawing at each other’s throats.

Shiv nodded, muttering something under her breath, and darted out of Logan’s office to make some preparations. That just left you and Roman standing in front of Logan. The air between the two of you was still tense since the whole Mencken debacle.

You were about to step out as well, before Logan said, “Since you two are going, might as well give him this in person.”

He slid over an envelope. The three of you, along with Gerri, had discussed its contents: an offer for Kendall to cash out of the company for good. Roman glanced at you, and you used your head to gesture for him to take it. 

“You think he’ll like it?” Roman asked his dad, who offered him half a smile and a shrug.

When he turned to look at you, the glass door was ajar and the spot where you were standing a moment ago was vacant.

Roman’s palms were sweaty. This was about the fifth time he’d wiped them down the front of his suit’s pants, hoping they’d just air out on their own by the time he got to your door.

They didn’t, but Roman found himself shrugging it off. You’d seen much worse than sweaty palms when it came to him.

It was an hour before the party was supposed to start—more so if he wanted to be fashionably late, didn’t want to seem too desperate—and he rang the bell.

It’d only been a few days since the two of you properly spoke, but Roman missed you. He found his nights staring at your number, thumb hovering over the call button. He’d sent about a dozen texts since then, but none of them were replied to. Sure, the two of you had gotten into fights every now and then but they never lasted long. 

And Roman was determined to get you to stop ignoring him.

When the door swung open, you peeked through, not at all ready yet for the party. Roman snickered upon seeing your eyeshadow only done on one eye, curlers in your hair.

“Looking hot, fuck-face,” he whistled. To his relief, your features softened, and you stepped to the side to let him amble in. Even in your current disheveled state, you knew he was telling the truth.

In truth, you’d missed him more than you could ever admit. It took a great deal of self-restraint not to reply to his strings of texts, especially once you were given time to cool off after what had transpired in the hotel bathroom. He was your Achilles’ heel, in a way.

“What do you want?” you asked, not even bothering to face him as you shut the door and made your way further into your home, standing in front of your mirror vanity to resume doing your makeup. 

Roman watched your reflection in a near somber manner. “Well, I was just thinking, since we’re going to Kendall’s little birthday bash, we could go togeth—”

“No,” you found yourself saying without a second thought. “I can go myself.”

With a sigh, Roman stepped forward, leaning against your vanity so he could look at you instead of your reflection. “I just want to talk. This—whatever’s going on between us—it fucking sucks. I miss you.”

For a second, you let your eyes meet his. You didn’t say anything, simply carrying on with drawing your eyeliner. 

“You’re not gonna say you miss me, too?”

“Of course I missed you, Rome.” There was a sort of bitterness to your words. “That doesn’t make me any less mad at you.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I went down the Mencken road. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. But, cross my heart and hope to die, I genuinely believe he can help us. And, like, what’s the worst he can do? Just because he becomes president doesn’t mean he can do fuck all. I’m just with him because we’d all benefit from him helping out the company.” He scratched the back of his head whilst giving you, as he would so eloquently put it, fucky eyes. 

There was a long stretch of pregnant silence. You’d finally put down the eyeliner, shifting to stand directly in front of him, your chest brushing against his. 

“What can I do?” he whispered. He couldn’t help it—his eyes were fixed on your lips, parted and glossed. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

You smelled so damn good too—Roman felt like he was going delirious. He chalked it up to not being around you for a long while. That was probably why. His hands reached out to rest over your hips. 

“Not much you can do now. What’s done is done. Your dad settled on Mencken—there’s no changing his mind.” You tilted your head, so close now that your nose was brushing against his. He briefly wondered if you could feel the way his heart was slamming imprints against his ribs. 

You were just a hair’s breadth away from kissing him. You were so fucking close—

Until you pulled away with a smug little grin, far enough so that his hands fell away from you, going right back to fixing up your makeup. “I can look past Mencken for now. Mostly because I can’t see someone like him actually winning the election. But I’m absolutely not saying that I’m with you on this. I’m just saying we can put aside our… differences. If he just so happens to win, I’m counting on you to have your hand up his ass, and my hand would be up yours. So we’re good, for now.” 

“You fucking tease,” he grumbled, chuckling slightly. “What was that about your hand up my ass?”

“Awh,” you said in a mocking tone, one of your feet kicking up to knock against his shin. “Did you manage to get a hard on without me even touching you?”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. And no.”

He was lying. He definitely had an erection, and the both of you knew it.

“Did you want me to kiss you?” you asked abruptly, starting to pull out the curlers in your hair.

His mouth went slack. His mind was moving too fast for him to formulate any coherent sentences. Instead, he laughed a bit, before it tapered away awkwardly.

“Yeah?” he finally replied, more of a question than anything.

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m sure,” he haughtily replied.

“Okay,” you said, though you didn’t look convinced. Another roller came out. 

“Don’t believe me?” Roman placed his hands over your hips once more, and yanked you close. “I’ll kiss you right here, right now.”

A brilliant smile danced across your features. “That a promise, Romey?”

With that, Roman leaned forward and slotted his lips over yours. It was tentative and soft and—surprisingly sticky. Your lip gloss, he registered a second later, tasted like strawberries and honey. A content hum slipped from you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with just as much vigor. Your nose slanted against his, foreheads knocking together. 

You were the one to pull away first, laughing lightly at his hooded eyes and the way he chased after your lips. A second bout of laughter overtook you when you saw the glossy, tinted smudges across his mouth. 

Shoulders still shaking, you pulled out a makeup wipe and handed it over to him, silently gesturing to his lips. 

“The color doesn’t suit you,” you rasped, though you kissed his cheek to leave a faint mark there, as well. “That’s a first for us, you know?”

“What?”

“Kissing.”

Roman looked at you strangely as he wiped away the remnants of your gloss. “We’ve kissed millions of times. Mostly you, because you’re obsessed with me.”

“Yeah, but… not like that. Mouth to mouth. It was always a line I didn’t wanna cross, you know?”

He toyed with a brush laying on your vanity. “Why not?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit more unsure. “You afraid I’m gonna give you cooties?”

“Well, because we’re…” You paused, gesturing between the two of you. “We’re friends. With occasional benefits, I guess. I didn’t know if you were okay with it.”

Lifting a shoulder, Roman offered you a smile. Friends didn’t sit quite right with him. Not anymore, at least. “Well now you know. You can kiss me all you want.”

You huffed in amusement, before pulling out the rest of the rollers in your hair. All you had left to do was put on your outfit, and you were good to go. You wondered if Kendall would be happy seeing his siblings at his party, when you knew for a fact that he hadn’t invited them.

“I’m gonna go change. You want me to help you out with that?” You looked down at his tented pants with a raised brow. “No blow jobs, though. Don’t wanna ruin my makeup.”

This time, Roman was the one that laughed, loud and chesty. He sucked on his teeth, as if debating his options. 

“How much time do we have?” he asked.

You glanced over at a small clock hanging on the opposite side of the room. “We’ve got forty-five minutes, maybe? If we wanna get there before Matsson gets bored and leaves.”

Roman clapped his hands together. “Great! More than enough time.” 

The two of you ended up fooling around for a bit longer than you’d anticipated—he’d humped your ass with you bent over your couch, then finished by jacking off onto your back. You were grateful that you hadn’t yet changed into your outfit for the party, having stayed in a comfortable white shirt that you shucked off and threw into the laundry bin.

To your surprise, he seemed earnest enough to want to try fingering you, and you shyly told him to go for it if he wanted. A permanent flush fixed over your cheeks as you gently guided him to do what felt best. His thumb over your clit, his fingers sheathed deep in your cunt. He was good at it, mostly because he was clinging onto your every plea like it was gospel. You came with a drawn-out moan and your teeth sinking into his shoulder. 

You managed to squeeze in just one more handjob for him since he somehow got hard again while fingering you, whispering filthy nothings into his ear as he whined, eyes rolled into the back of his head. To your curious delight, you’d found that Roman really liked being called a good boy.

Only after all that did you manage to change into a semi-formal dress, touching up on your makeup since a lot of your lipstick had smudged onto Roman. In turn, Roman headed to the bathroom to wash up a bit, comb back his hair, some strands had come loose during your little excursions, and straightened out his suit.

“You ready?” you asked, peeking into the bathroom. The two of you were a bit later than you would’ve liked. “I want to make a stop at the corner store before the party.”

“What for?” he asked, curious.

“Last minute birthday gift,” you replied, hopping slightly as you strapped on your shoes. “Let’s go, Rome. You look hot, I promise.”

He smiled at your reflection, and took your outstretched hand. 

Upon arriving at the large venue, the woman in front asked to take everybody’s coats and phones. To which, Roman told her, “Yeah, fuck off, I’m not doing that,” and walked right past her. 

You gave her an apologetic smile, shedding your coat and handed it to her. “Sorry, I can’t hand you my phone. Company policy.”

With that, you jogged to catch up to Roman, chatting with Connor, who had also chosen to cling on tightly to his coat. Beneath it, you saw that one of his arms was in a sling.

“Oh, Con, what happened?” you asked, waving hello to Willa.

“Nothing, nothing. Just ranch stuff,” the older man replied, nonchalant.

Roman snorted. “What, a horse didn’t want you to fuck it?”

“He had a fall,” Willa said, and Connor immediately protested.

“You make it sound like I’m ninety years old. No, Maxim and I just got some polling results. We shared a Cognac, and then I slipped doing a little Irish jig.”

“Oh, okay. Ranch stuff. Got it,” quipped Roman. 

You stopped in front of a tunnel-like entrance, the walls lined with soft pink. 

 “This feels disgustingly Kendall,” Shiv said, and the two of you laughed as you strolled in. “So… where’s Tabs, Rome? She busy?”

Arching a brow, you looked to Roman. You knew that his relationship with her had fizzled out, especially after the… corpse sex debacle.

“Yup,” Roman said, clearly not comfortable discussing it with her.

She grinned, snickering. “Again? Did you kill her?”

“We’re actually—we’re not really seeing each other anymore. She was just a bit boring. That’s all I’m saying,” Roman said. His eyes darted to you, and you offered him half a smile.

“Mmh, yeah. Because you find sexual intimacy boring, don’t you?” Shiv pressed, which made both you and Roman frown.

“As if you’re the catch,” Roman snapped back. “You’re more fucked up than me, you know! Seems like Y/N and I are nicer to each other than you are to your own husband.”

Shiv looked between the two of you, expression immediately souring. “You’re so fucking annoying,” she muttered, before turning to mutter something to Tom.

By the end of the pink tunnel, a woman dressed in a cartoonish nurse uniform greeted the group. “You’ve just been born into the world of Kendall Roy!” she announced.

“Oh, Jesus,” Shiv huffed.

Roman turned back to look at the pink tunnel. “Oh. So if we’ve just been born, then that must be mom’s…?” He shifted his weight back and forth by the exit. “You’re telling me I’m repeatedly entering my mom’s vagina right now?”

You snorted in amusement, nudging Shiv. “These your mom jokes just keep getting better.”

She hummed. “Cold and inhospitable. It seems to check out.”

“This is my mom’s cooch, just so you know,” Roman told the nurse. “And you’re implying that it’s massive, so, uh, might wanna get Kendall to see if you can tighten my mother’s vagina.”

The group shuffled off, leaving the poor nurse to gather her wits and greet the next few guests approaching. 

“Where’s Matsson, you think?” Shiv asked.

“Probably standing in a corner somewhere, monitoring his biometrics from his watch,” Roman scoffed. 

“Don’t you think we should find Kendall before trying to find Matsson?” you queried, looking around the crowded room in hopes of finding Kendall somewhere amidst the dancing throng. “I mean… it is his birthday party, after all.”

Nodding, Roman said, “Yeah, good thinking. Let’s just get it out of the way.”

Shiv managed to track down one of Kendall’s assistants, asking her where he’d be. She pointed up the stairs, where the VIP section was. Thanking her, the three of you made your way up the stairs whilst the rest of the group stayed down to mingle. 

The second floor was a bit less packed, but there were still dozens upon dozens of famous figures mingling about. It wasn’t hard to find Kendall amongst them, sticking out like a sore thumb with a birthday crown perched on his head, laughing with his girlfriend, Naomi Pierce, by his side. 

His eyes met his siblings’, and he scrambled to take the crown off, dropping it onto the nearest waiter’s tray. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Wait a second. Who let you guys in? This is friends only!” he exclaimed. 

Shiv made a pitying noise. “Awh. Shouldn’t it be empty, then?”

Roman cackled. “She beat me by one second.”

“Happy birthday, old man,” Shiv said, giving her older brother a sharp smile.

“Just to say, I’m only here because I heard there was going to be a five-dimensional catastrophe, and I want to watch you crash and burn,” Roman told him.

Features mellowing, Kendall stepped forward and spread his arms out wide to give Roman a hug, which he reciprocated with no complaint.

 However, he did have to squeeze in, “Man, it even feels like you’re old. You sure you’re only forty? You look like shit.”

Despite his harsh words, Kendall pulled away with a genuine smile. He was happy that his siblings were here, even if he hadn’t invited them.

He hugged you next, and you reached up to kiss his cheek with a smile. “Hey, Kenny D. Happy birthday—I brought you a little present.” You reached into the cheap plastic bag from the corner store, brandishing a strawberry popsicle, still in its wrapper. “It’s probably a bit melted but if you popped it into the freezer for ten minutes or so, it should be good as new. Sorry it’s not much.”

Kendall’s expression seemed to soften, recalling how the two of you would always argue over the last remaining strawberry popsicle during the summers you were still little children. When you would grab it from the freezer before he could, he’d tug on your pigtails and call you mean as you denied ever taking them, and you’d hide the wrappers in Rome’s room so he’d never know it was you. But he could always tell from the sticky red on the corners of your mouth and your sugar-highs that seemed to last for a little too long. 

“No, this is…” He took the popsicle from you, staring down at the wrapper. “This is perfect. Thank you. I really appreciate it, I do.”

You nodded, pointedly watching as he pocketed the popsicle. “No problem. I promise not to take this one from you.”

Kendall laughed, then looked to his brother and sister. “Really? No card? I’m disappointed.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t find one that said both ‘happy birthday’ and ‘get well soon’,” Shiv crooned. The smile on Kendall’s face faltered.

“Well, I’m glad you guys came. It says a lot,” he finally said.

“It was a ten minute drive,” Shiv deadpanned. 

A part of you wondered why Shiv was being particularly brutal today, especially on Kendall’s birthday. Nonetheless, the two of them awkwardly hugged, Shiv patting her brother’s back a few times.

Connor and Willa ascended the stairs a few seconds later, waving hello. They greeted the birthday boy with hugs, and the smile returned back to Kendall’s face, though it wasn’t quite the same as before.

“So, what do you guys think? Sick party, right?” Kendall asked, arms spread.

Squinting, Roman glanced back downstairs. “It’s cool, but, uh, did you ask for Mummy’s permission to use her, uh… squatch?”

Kendall shook his head a bit, seeming puzzled. “What, from, like, a copyright perspective?”

“Well, it’s just, you know—call me old-fashioned, but I think you should ask before constructing a giant replica of someone’s vagina,” Roman off-handedly said.

“I’d definitely want to be informed before someone decides to make an artistic rendition of my privates,” you chimed in agreement.

“Duly noted,” Roman said in a faux British accent, and the two of you giggled under your breath like schoolgirls.

Kendall, miffed, nodded a few times. “Yeah, okay. Yeah. I can—I can send mom an email. But, relax, will you? Yes, Roman, you can take it home with you.”

Roman pumped a fist into the air at that, and you both burst into another round of giddy laughter.

Rolling her eyes, Shiv said, “Okay, so, tell us. Who else is here?”

Kendall made a show of looking around at the dozens of famous celebrities loitering around the VIP section. “Who isn’t?”

“Your dad,” Roman said.

“Your mom,” Shiv told him.

“Your wife,” Connor added.

“Your kids?” you put forth, more as a question than anything. 

“Any real friends,” Roman chimed again.

With a smile, Shiv said, “I mean, business folks, sure. Stewy? Honestly, we could do with building some bridges. So, uh, Lawrence Yee? He here? Lukas Matsson?”

There it was. She name-dropped the golden goose.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re all here, somewhere,” Kendall assured, gesturing around vaguely. “I have something to show you guys, actually. Come on.”

The siblings and you followed him down a winding hallway, which gave way to black-out curtains, and past that, it seemed to be an art gallery of sorts.

“Hey, Dad wanted me to give this to you,” Roman said, handing Kendall the envelope. You eyed it warily, wondering how Kendall would react to the offer.

“What is it?” the older brother queried, shaking it lightly, as if expecting something inside to rattle.

A dismissive sort of smile fell over Roman’s face. “It’s, uh, an iTunes gift card and a couple of your baby teeth. It’s nice. We hope you like it.”

Kendall looked at you, silently asking for confirmation. You nodded, hesitant, but that seemed to satisfy him enough—he pocketed the envelope to open up for later. 

“Okay, guys, let me show you some shit. C’mon.” He beckoned everyone into the art gallery, before spewing into a long tangent about all the people he had to collaborate with in order for things to work out.

Instead of paintings and sculptures, which you’d typically see hung up in galleries, there were newspaper articles and headlines plastered over the walls. 

The Cincinnati Standard: Waystar Chairman, Kendall Roy Elected President of World Federation!

Boston Daily Express: Wife of Tom Wambsgans Arrested In Sweep of City Street-Walkers!

The Correspondent: Connor Roy Elected President [of shitting his bag]!

The NY Globe: Failed Youngest Roy Sibling Dies in Tragic Jerk-Off Accident!

Both you and Roman stopped to stand in front of his article. You shot him an amused glance. “Who were you jerking off to, do you think?”

“Don’t worry, fuck-face, there’s a lot of Roman to go around,” he said, leaning closer to read the smaller text.

Your grin grew wider, gesturing to the paper. “Not for long, according to this.”

“It’s not a bad way to go.” Roman bumped his shoulder into yours. “Yours is going to happen any day now, I can just feel it.” 

Your brows raised, and you turned around, surprised to see your own article plastered large and tall right beside Connor’s.

New York Journalist: Disgraced CEO’s Goddaughter Kicked Out of Company—Adopted Into Communist Parties!

“Wow,” you breathed out. It wasn’t all that bad, really. 

“You like it?” Kendall asked the two of you.

“You’ve got people in here picturing me jerking off, so who’s the real winner?” Roman sneered. 

Shaking your head, you told Kendall, “I can’t even imagine why you’d have an entire room dedicated to this at your birthday party.”

“It’s—it’s unique. An extrapolation into the near future,” he said. “People dig it.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Roman replied, clapping his shoulder, before wandering off to read the other articles.

Connor threw a large fit about his article, unhappy with the way he was being portrayed as an unserious candidate.

“You did actually shit your bag, though,” Roman said. Kendall guffawed and the two brothers began laughing together, at Connor’s expense.

His scowl deepened. “Yeah, you know why? Because I took you two fucking assholes on a camping trip because Dad couldn’t be bothered! That’s why! I ate some bad fucking fish! This is bullshit, Kendall!” He yelled that last sentence, to which Kendall quickly reassured him that he’d have it taken down.

You remembered Roman telling you about the camping trip, the both of you only barely teenagers. It was harder then, being friends with them—boys were particularly mean at that age.

You remembered asking if you could come along. Kendall told you that it was a boys trip. Only boys were allowed, and you most certainly weren’t a boy. 

You remembered Roman asking if you could somehow fit into the cooler so he could sneak you on the trip. Even now, you weren't quite sure if he was just joking or if he was being serious. Nonetheless, you pushed him away and told him to have fun sleeping on rocks and eating stale jerky that tasted like dirt. When you sniffled, Connor put a hand on your shoulder and told you that there’d be many more camping trips in the future. To your knowledge, they never went again. 

“Alright, guys, I gotta circulate. Lots of people to talk to. We can check in later, yeah?” Kendall rubbed his hands together. You briefly realized that this was the first time you’d seen him genuinely happy in a long time.

“Yeah, yeah, you go on ahead,” Shiv said, urging him on.

“It’s a great night. I’m happy you guys are here. Fucking… best birthday ever.”

With that, Kendall hurried off. You and Roman exchanged glances, mirrors of pity and guilt.

Half an hour of asking around later, Shiv managed to snag down Matsson’s location in this never-ending venue of birthday bash.

“Don’t fuck this,” Shiv warned Roman, to which he rolled his eyes and gestured for her to lead the way.

The three of you traversed up a couple more flights of winding staircases, turning left into a massive hall, where a giant replica of a treehouse was erected, leading into what looked like another secret passageway. You narrowed your eyes, seeming to recognize the little carvings on the wood by the base of the tree. Younger Kendall often went into the yard whenever he was angry, whittling away his frustrations onto the bark. You and Roman used to play pretend that they were ancient runes when he wasn’t around to hear you.

“I think a forty year old man who rebuilt his childhood treehouse should immediately go on the sex offender registry,” Roman snidely commented, eyeing the massive structure. 

Two burly guards blocked the entry way.

“We’re with Kendall,” you said as you tried to sidestep them, but one thrust his arm out in front of you.

“Do you have a rainbow band?” he gruffed.

Roman guffawed. “Yes. I’m a walking fucking rainbow band.”

It was then that Kendall’s head emerged from behind the guards, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, guys. You done downstairs?”

“Mhm. These guys aren’t letting us in. Ain’t that crazy?” Roman asked pointedly. “Do you mind if we took a gander around your mental disorder?”

Kendall laughed, though it sounded forced. “Hah. Yeah, good one. That’s funny, Rome.”

“So are you gonna let us in, or what?” Shiv butted in, clearly impatient.

“That’s, uh…” Kendall smiled, almost apologetic, almost triumphant. “That’s not possible.”

You tilted your head, wondering if Kendall somehow found out that the three of you were after Matsson. “Not possible? Why’s that?”

“You hiding something from us in there, Ken?” Roman jeered. “Nude selfies you don’t feel comfortable with showing? The angsty romantic poetry you wrote when you were seventeen?”

A frown flickered across his face. “Well, okay, the thing is—the treehouse is for cool people, and you guys… you guys aren’t cool. Sorry, Y/N. You know, I would’ve given you a band if they weren’t here with you.”

“I’m flattered,” you said in a flat tone.

“Wow. The coolest grown man’s treehouse I’ve seen in quite a while,” Shiv snippily retorted, which made Roman snicker.

Holding his hands out in a placating manner, Kendall told the three of you, “Okay, no, seriously guys. Sorry, but, like… all jokes aside, there’s actually a real issue here, and I need to be discreet, because there’s a lot of celebrities around, and if you guys were in the treehouse, it would be kinda—kinda wouldn’t feel like the treehouse, y’know?”

Shiv scoffed.

“You’re a nazi lover,” Kendall deadpanned, pointing at his sister. He jutted his finger to Roman, then you. “And you’re a nazi lover. And you’re heavily affiliated with them. Me, on the other hand, I’m a defender of liberal democracy.” 

“Lovely. You afraid of getting canceled on Twitter, Kendall?” you asked, crossing your arms. You let the words spew out without really thinking over them. “Or are you scared to show all your ad-sponsored, money-grubbing buddies up there who kicked you to the ground and spat on your corpse? It’s not a good look, is it?”

Appearing crestfallen for a moment, Kendall shook his head. “You’re being—stop. I didn’t expect you to stoop down to their level, Y/N.”

“Jesus, are you going to let us in or not?” Roman huffed.

“What, to see Matsson?” Kendall finally asked.

There it was. He knew.

“That’s why you’re here. You’re trying to push a deal,” he muttered. 

“Who fucking gives a shit?” Roman asked. “What’s the difference to you? I just want to talk to him.”

Shiv nodded. “You know what’ll happen if we do talk to him? Either we strike out with nothing, or we succeed, Waystar benefits, and your net worth goes up by several hundred million dollars.”

“You’re welcome,” retorted Roman.

“Okay, yeah, but I have to weigh that against the consideration that no losers allowed,” Kendall said, shrugging.

“God, you’re such a fucking child.” You rolled your eyes, the two other siblings following suit.

Trying to step up again, Roman said, “I’m going in. This is fucking stupid.”

Kendall grabbed at his brother’s shoulder, pulling him back, and turning him around to face away from the treehouse.

“Oh, my God. Did you see that? I just got moved.” 

Roman tried again, and the two got into a catty, near indiscernible argument. Kendall pushed, and Roman stepped back, before leaning in again. 

“You really gonna get so worked up over a treehouse?” Kendall hissed. “That’s fucking lame, man.” 

Finally, Roman stepped away, his shoulder bumping into yours. “Fuck. Wow.”

“Don’t let these guys in. This is my treehouse, and they shouldn’t be here,” Kendall warned the guards, before slipping between them, making his way back into his treehouse. “Oh, and, thanks for the offer, guys. Great headfuck from Dad. Really fucking cool of you.”

You thought the buyout would be good for him. A naive part of you had even thought that he’d simply accept it with no complaint. Lord knew it was more than enough money to sustain him several lifetimes.

“Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable,” Roman groaned. “Now what?”

Curious, Shiv looked over at the two of you. “What was Ken talking about? What offer?”

You and Roman exchanged looks. “That was nothing,” Roman dismissively replied, shrugging. “It was just a little move to ease him out of the holding company.”

“What? And—you two didn’t think to tell me?” she just about snarled, brows drawing together.

“It’s just an offer, Shiv. You would’ve found out eventually,” you sighed, rubbing the spot between your brows, the beginnings of a headache starting to fight through. 

“Whose name was on the paper?” she asked, head tilted.

“Mine,” Roman sighed. “It’s just a name, though. It’s nothing.”

“Okay, so why wasn’t I the name if it was fucking nothing?” she demanded. “Historically, who owns the fucking company has been of some interest. It’s not nothing.”

Tired of the conversation, Roman told her, “We handled it. You wanna figure out the financing, or something? It’s all there.”

A muscle in her jaw twitched. “Yeah, that’s fucking great. You guys are so adorable. Fuck you. Fuck this.” 

She stormed off, heels clanging loudly against the staircases’ steps.

A few seconds of silence lapsed by before you reached out to take Roman’s arm. “You ready to go steal some rainbow bands?”

He used his free hand to cup your face and tug you closer, landing a loud, obnoxious kiss onto your cheek. 

“I fucking love us,” he hummed.

The two of you began to walk around, eyeing all the guests who happened to have bracelets on. 

“I do, too, Rome. I do, too.”

Eventually, the two of you managed to snag down a handsy couple who looked much too busy sucking off each others’ faces to care about their stupid rainbow bands. They handed it to you two with no question and you thanked them with a smile whilst Roman snidely told them to use protection. He was one to talk, really.

The guards also gave the two of you a lot of trouble, but after a bit of charm from your end and a bit of light threatening from Roman’s end, the two of you were finally in the damned treehouse.

“I’m scared we’re going to see detailed exhibits of Kendall’s sex life up there,” you uneasily said. 

“Nah, I think I just saw Anne Hathaway passing by. No way Kendall would embarrass himself like that around this crowd,” Roman snorted. After a second, he tacked on, “But I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Almost at once, your eyes landed on Matsson, huddled up in a dingy corner and playing a shoddy tapping game on his phone. He looked next to miserable, utterly bored out of his mind.

“Bingo,” you whispered, nudging Roman with a grin. 

Once the two of you approached him, his eyes didn’t even bother lifting from his screen. But his brows raised in acknowledgement upon hearing Roman’s voice.

“There you are, fucking hiding from us. You little sneak, you. Like a human VPN.” Roman took the seat adjacent to him, and you sat across from the two. “How you doing?”

A disgruntled noise fell from Matsson’s lips. “Eh. I’m alright. I’m just, uh… you know. You fill in the blanks.”

Your lips downturned slightly. You hadn’t spoken to Matsson personally before, but the two of you had gone to the same conferences before in the past—you were never overly fond of his character. Lazy, erratic, a pure dick-jerker. But you knew he was integral to hold up the company, so you swallowed any and all complaints you had about him.

“I hear you. Yeah. Fucking life, right?” Roman drawled in response, attempting and failing to mimic Matsson’s nonchalance.

“I just wanna find a good pussy and get out, you know?” Lukas muttered. For a brief moment, he looked away from his phone, to you. “You down?” he asked.

Rearing back in surprise, you briefly wondered if he was high on something. He probably was.

A nervous laugh slipped out of you, and you gave Roman a wide side-glare. “I’m not here to get laid.”

“Hm. Pity.” There was lust in his gaze, and you felt a wave of nausea roll over you.

To diffuse the tension, Roman quipped in a high voice, “Yeah, well—pussy’s great. Mhm. You see my mom’s at the front, there?”

Matsson snickered lowly. “Yeah. You seen my mom’s? It’s not… it’s not great.”

Roman laughed, and you begrudgingly cracked a smile at that, too.

“Wow. Yeah, sure, I’m not gonna delve too deep into that one.” Roman leaned forward. “Question—my old man got a little bit grumpy this morning, but you weren’t trying to humiliate him, right? I mean, fucking everyone says we’re the last big legacy content library, and you’re the last fucking super app streaming platform. We fit, obviously. Right?”

Finally, Matsson put his phone down to regard the two of you. He pulled a contemplative frown.

“People say we fit, yeah.”

You eyed Matsson warily, partially worried that he’d get bored of the two of you and go back to his phone. “You help prop us up, and we’ll turn GoJo into a gold mine. A tooth for a tooth.”

With guarded interest, Matsson sat up just a bit straighter. Instead of replying to you, he faced Roman and said, “She’s a bit… how do you get anything done with her around?”

An embarrassed, frustrated sort of flush heated your skin. It was beyond demeaning that he spoke to Roman as if you couldn’t hear everything he was saying. Was it because you were a woman? Because Matsson so clearly saw you as a piece of ass and nothing more?

Though Roman sent you an apologetic, slightly confused glance, he said, “Well, I don’t, really. But, uh, what are you thinking?”

Half of a shrug. “I mean, that’s great and everything, but I do have one small concern.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Roman asked.

“When will your father die?”

Roman’s brows flew up in shock. “When will… when will my father die?” he parroted, blinking himself out of his stupor. “Uh…”

The blonde man gestured vaguely towards him. “Like, I don’t wanna be rude, but—what kind of shape is he in? Are we talking less than a year or is it more like five years? ‘Cause if it’s five, that’s… that’s a long time. It would be better sooner, wouldn’t it?”

Roman broke out into a fit of laughter. A nervous habit, you knew.

“No, yeah, I’m laughing here, but, like—that is my dad, so, you know. Go easy there, tiger.”

Though you were well aware that Matsson clearly had a hard time speaking to you without getting a raging boner, you felt it important to voice, “Is Logan’s position on top a problem for you? For this deal?”

The corner of his lips twitched up when he spared you a look. “No, it’s just that I don’t like the idea of a man hanging over me. It’s not my world, media. Not my thing. But Logan’s death, it would… it would clear space.”

Clear space. How airily he threw about the term. A quick peek at Roman told you that he was just as uncomfortable as you were. He scratched the back of his head rather aggressively.

“Uh, I mean, we’re all obviously… hugely looking forward to my father dying,” Roman started, tapering off into a hum of forced laughter. “But, hear me out, there’d be another shape to this. How about you never ever have to speak to him? You could work out of Austin, Geneva, London, Stockholm, wherever. Totally separate corporate identities. And StarGo, we burn, obviously.”

This seemed to please Matsson immensely. It was no secret how shitty Waystar’s streaming platform was.

“Yes, yes. Please. Burn the codes and fucking acid bath those servers.”

Roman cracked a smile. “We can do that. We could do that together. I mean, GoJo, full bore. Our library, our firepower, our relationships for content. And, like, good shit. Not, like, gay moms and wheelchair kids liberal crap. Actual, popular, shit.”

A frown crossed your expression briefly. You never liked it when Roman got political. Nonetheless, you could see now that Lukas was listening intently to what the two of you had to offer. 

“You won’t have to communicate with Logan whatsoever. None of your decisions would be intercepted by him—it’d be filtered through Roman, if need be. And, you know, if it’s beneficial for you, it’d be beneficial for us,” you told him firmly whilst maintaining eye contact. You wanted him to know that you were more than capable of holding your own. 

It didn’t last long, however, because Matsson rolled his head back and blew out a sigh. “I hope you know that StarGo truly is a piece of shit.”

“It’s a huge piece of shit, yeah,” Roman agreed.

“I like to open it just to see how long it takes for the landing page to load,” Lukas said, lazily smiling. A quick glance in your direction, and he slapped at his knees. “Hey, Roman, you wanna go and take a piss on the app?”

A second’s pause. “What, like, literally?”

“Yeah.” Lukas got up to his feet.

Roman hastily stood as well, sending you an apprehensive look. “Yeah, okay, uh—” before he could finish, Matsson was already striding away. 

God. You already couldn’t stand that man.

“Go,” you told Roman. “He thinks I’m distracting. I know. I’ll be around. You just go land a meeting with him, okay? Keep him interested.”

“Okay. Yeah. Are you—? Yeah, okay. You’re great, y’know? So fucking great.” Roman squeezed your shoulder once, before he shoved his hands into his pockets and jogged after Matsson, who was already halfway to the men’s bathroom.

A heavy pit sank to the bottom of your stomach. Everybody was dancing around you, the music pounding so loudly you could feel the base vibrating the ground. There was a distinct sting to the very top of your nose—a telltale sign that you were upset, even though you were doing your very best to push it down. It was times like these you hated being a woman working in an industry made for and surrounded by men.

With pursed lips, you got up to leave the treehouse, feeling incredibly out of place in there.

And so you wove through the crowds, until you saw Kendall walking down a hall with Naomi, his shoulders tensed.

“Hey, Kendall?” you called out, quickening your pace to catch up with him.

“What do you want?” he asked, bitter. “You wanna ask for a condom so you can go fuck Matsson in my treehouse? Sorry, I don’t have one.”

He did—he always kept one in his wallet, but you didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, no, Roman’s doing that already.” You fiddled with your hands and his eyes softened just a tad, drawing his own conclusions that you didn’t care to spell out. “Hey, uh, sorry, this is a really douche-y thing of me to ask, but… could I have the strawberry popsicle back?”

Dumbfounded, Kendall fixed you with an incredulous stare. “What?”

You cleared your throat nervously, feeling your nose begin to sting more. You weren’t quite sure if those were tears pricking your eyes, or if you were just tired. “I’ll get you another one, I promise.” 

The wrapper was still sticking out of his pocket. Melted, you knew for a fact, but you didn’t care. You wanted it, and you wanted it now.

“What? But this—this is my gift. You said you wouldn’t take this one.”

You were being an asshole. You knew it, and he knew it. “Kendall, just—just fucking give it over. It’s a popsicle! I can get you a million others after this.”

Then, you tried to reach for it, but Kendall sidestepped away from you, bumping into Naomi. 

“Yeah, but this one’s mine. You gave it to me. What is with you?” 

Your lip warbled as you inhaled sharply. “Please? I just—I really need it right now.”

There was a momentary pause as Kendall looked down at the wrapper sticking out of his pocket. In all honesty, he’d forgotten it was even there until you brought it up.

“No,” he finally said. “There’s refreshments and desserts all over this fucking place. You don’t need it.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “Fuck you,” you eventually mustered, tears welling up over your waterline.

A large part of Kendall felt guilty, but he consciously took a step back away from you. “I have to go. My kids gave me a present. Rabbit wrapping. I gotta find it.”

“Eat a dick, Kendall.”

With that, he left.

You harshly wiped away any lingering dampness that spilled over your cheeks and hurried away. As you rushed to get to the bar, you caught sight of Shiv wildly dancing in the middle of the crowd, feet bare and hair tousled. 

It wasn’t long before Tom came to join you, seemingly in a glum mood himself. He was saying something about Greg and his new fixation on Kendall’s assistant, but you weren’t quite listening, merely nodding along at regular intervals.

About half an hour later, Roman finally appeared, grinning so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t split in two. By then, Shiv had joined you and Tom by the bar, breathless and cherry-cheeked.

“You okay?” Roman preened. “Onlookers reported you having some sort of breakdown. People were anxious that you might have swallowed your tongue.”

A frown crossed her lips. “I was dancing.”

“Hm. I heard it looked like a cry for help. That right, Y/N?” Roman casted a look in your direction, noting your glum atmosphere. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Before you could reply, Shiv shook her head. “Fuck you. Did you speak to Matsson?”

“I’m trying to console my friend here, Siobhan—”

“Did you speak to him?” she gritted out again, completely disregarding his initial rebuttal. 

Rolling his eyes, Roman leaned against the bar, his arm brushing yours. “Yup. I spoke to him.”

“And?”

“Don’t worry about it, Shivvy. I’ll handle it,” he snidely remarked. His arm pressed firmer up against yours. In a lowered voice, he asked, “You sure you’re good? You look all—mopey dopey over here.”

You didn’t quite know how to explain to him that you and Kendall had gotten into a tiff over a stupid popsicle, and you were sick of being reduced to the pretty woman men couldn’t take seriously. Even if you had vocalized all that, a large part of you doubted that Roman would understand any of it. He’d look at you all guilty and puppy-eyed, one of the few ways he tried to convey sympathy, and you’d kiss his cheek and tell him it was fine. That was usually how things went between the two of you, anyway.

“No, seriously, Roman,” Shiv just about growled. 

“I’m being serious,” he shot back, clearly growing agitated that Shiv just wouldn’t buzz off. And also because you weren’t talking to him, and the two of you knew well how terribly he coped with that. “I’ll talk to Dad and see if he wants to loop you in, okay?”

The aggravation written plainly over her features seemed to deepen. “Just fucking tell me! This is important, and I might need to finesse.”

“Oh, you need to finesse? That’s so kind of you to offer! But, uh, how would you finesse something that’s already done, exactly? By ruining it?” Roman jeered, crossing his arms. “Yeah, y’know what, I handled Matsson. I understand him. I’m not sure you do.”

You simply watched Shiv’s face cave in with unbridled frustration. In a way, you understood exactly how she was feeling. Though, you supposed you were more folded in than she was, given Roman’s trust in you.

“You know what, if you wanna show off to somebody, maybe show off to someone who gives a shit. Look—even Y/N doesn’t wanna hear about it!”

The two siblings looked at you, and you lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“If you landed it, that’s all I care to know,” you gently told Roman.

A nod, and a hum. “It’s all good. Matsson peed on my phone, but we got it. And listen, Shiv, you’re having a very bad day, I know that. What with hearing that you have to continue sharing an apartment with the old meat wardrobe, but, you know—try to keep your wig on.”

There was a certain fire to Shiv’s eyes, darting between the two of you angrily. “I’m the one in a functioning relationship. You guys are fucked up emotionally and using each other as crutches to feel better about yourselves.”

Now that… that struck a nerve. She was right, you knew it, but you never liked facing your and Roman’s codependency head-on. It was an uncomfortable truth that the two of you were quite comfortable not dwelling on.

“Oh, really?” Roman retorted. “I thought you were thinking about all the dick you were gonna ride while he was behind bars? Hm?”

“Oh, my fucking God,” Shiv hissed in incredulous disbelief. “You know what? Nobody likes talking about me fucking guys as much as you do. Why is that? Is that because you’re the COO who can’t fuck?”

This seemed to stun Roman into silence. His eyes flickered over to your silent form, staring down at your half-empty drink. Shiv caught the way he looked over at you, a cruel scoff hitching in her throat.

“Huh. Can’t even get it up for Y/N?”

A deep breath in, and Roman was quick to push the argument back onto Shiv. “Did you think Tom was going to go to jail?”

“No. I’m happy he’s not going.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are! You look really happy. Fucking rainbows and sunshine plastered all over you. Did you think he was, though? Just a smidge? Maybe Dad would go to jail, too? Oh, and maybe I’d go, too! And because Kendall’s all fucked up in the head, you’d… oh, you’d be able to sit on your little throne. It’d be all about you. You thought it was ladies’ night and they were playing your song, but guess what? You were wrong! All the men got together in the man club and we decided, sweetheart, everything’s fine, so just—”

A cord within you snapped.

“Roman,” you sternly barked out. “Shut the fuck up. We get it.”

“Don’t talk for me,” Shiv haughtily told you, before fixing her brother with a fiery glare. “He’s just using you as a messenger boy, but as usual, you’re too fucking dumb to see it.”

“Right. Mhm. It’s difficult for you, I know. It’s hard to have to do the dance for Dad because you just suck at dancing,” Roman sneered. 

“You’re a piece of shit,” said Shiv. 

Clearly on a roll, Roman just kept talking: “It turns out he loves it when I do the Daddy dance, but I guess that’s because he loves me.” He was feeding himself lies. Logan didn’t even have to do it anymore—Roman was desperate enough to believe it. “He loves fucking me, and he just doesn’t want to fuck you anymore.”

“What are you even talking about? You’re so fucking gross!” Shiv just about yelled.

The two fell into more bickering, but it faltered away when Kendall showed up out of nowhere. You glanced at his pocket—the popsicle wrapper was gone.

“Oh, shit. Look who it is! It’s birthday boy!” Roman greeted in a condescending manner. 

Kendall looked upset—far more upset than when you’d confronted him about the popsicle.

“Neither of you should be here,” Kendall gruffly said. “You shouldn’t be at my fucking party.”

“Oh, God, you’re right. Someone call the cops. Intruders have breached the masturbatorium!” Laughing, Roman took your drink and finished what was left of it. You stared down at the empty glass with pursed lips.

Finally, you looked up at Kendall. “You find the rabbit wrapping?” you quietly asked him. 

He didn’t answer your question. Instead, he stared at you for a moment before slowly saying, “I threw away the popsicle. Melted.”

That hurt a lot more than you would admit it did. “Oh,” was all you said.

Roman looked back and forth between the two of you, wondering what on earth he’d missed while he was up watching Matsson piss on his phone.

“You guys are full of shit,” Kendall said. “You came here to fuck me behind my back. You’re ghouls, and you’re disgusting.”

“Sorry. Whoops,” Roman replied, though he didn’t sound sorry at all.

Then, Kendall turned to call a few security guards lining the walls. “Can we get them out?”

“It’s a little late for that, buddy. I already spoke to Matsson. He hates you, by the way—laughs at you constantly,” Roman harshly quipped. 

Shiv shook her head. “Just stop, Roman.”

“What? Go easy on the birthday boy?”

Stone-faced, Kendall stepped closer to his siblings. “Did you come here to see me at all? You didn’t, did you?”

Shiv spared him a sharp, unapologetic smile. “Well, we haven’t been getting along that great recently, so what do you think? You surprised?”

A mutter and a shake of his head. “GoJo was my idea,” Kendall said. “You stole my idea.”

Raising his brows, Roman jeered, “What are you, fucking six? Dude, you lost. No big deal, no need to cry about it.” 

“None of it would matter if you bought out, Kendall,” you said, only barely loud enough for him to hear. “You don’t have to keep biting the hand that’s feeding you. The cage is open.”

A crackling silence. Kendall looked pained, for a second.

“You’re just a stuck-up cunt that can’t bear to see me win,” Roman said, deciding he wanted to have the final blow.

Kendall sized up to him, getting up close to his face. “You’re not a real person,” he said. “You know that? You’re not fucking real.”

Unflinching, Roman stared up at his brother. “Come on. Why don’t you hit me, maybe?”

“Rome—” you began, but he made a protesting noise.

“Come on, shitty Jesus! You know you want to. Just fucking hit me. Do it!”

Kendall watched his brother, eyes empty. Or full of despair. It was the same either way. With that, he stepped away and began to walk off.

“Ugh, look, I’m sorry, okay? Happy birthday—” Roman strode up to him and placed a hand on his back.

Accident or not, Roman pushed, and Kendall fell. He laughed, then apologized, then laughed again. Connor was there, all of a sudden, telling them to lay off each other.

All this time, you hadn’t moved a muscle. Maybe you were still mad about the popsicle. Maybe it was Matsson. Maybe it was the dysfunctional fucking family you were stuck in between.

Kendall forcefully yelled at Connor to take his coat off, and stormed off. Shiv left a few minutes later, mumbling out how much of an asshole they all were. 

“I want to leave, Roman,” you told him, and his giggling subsided, finally.

“Oh, yeah—fuck, yeah. We did what we came here for. Let’s go.”

Down the stairs, out the vagina (or was it in?), and back into the real world. Roman was saying something, but your ears were buzzing with the aftershocks of the loud music.

You hadn’t even registered Roman telling the driver to fuck off, that he wanted to walk you home. Chivalry wasn’t dead, after all. 

Once inside your house, you tugged your shoes off with a sigh and shed your clothes as soon as you stepped into your room. You just wanted to go to sleep.

Roman peeled off his suit jacket, before sitting down at the edge of your bed. “Hey, I have a proposition for you.”

At first, you genuinely believed that whatever he wanted to say was business-related. But upon looking at him, his dilated pupils, his mussed hair, his spread legs—his proposition was very obviously far from professional intent. 

It was a distraction. A good one, one that you were more than willing to take. You clambered onto the bed, straddled his thighs and leaned over him, your nose brushing his.

“Yeah, Romeo?”

“Let’s have sex. Like, actual peen in vageen type of situation.”

You weren’t drunk, but you were tired, and yet you found yourself nodding with hooded eyes. 

“You sure?” you whispered, low and raspy, as if you’d swallowed a handful of gravel. 

High-pitched, he affirmed with, “Uh-huh.”

You brushed your lips over his, only barely there. Roman jerked forward to kiss you properly, but you leaned back. “Say it, Roman.”

He swallowed, throat bobbing. “I’m sure.”

With the green light, the two of you began to peel away the few remaining articles of clothing you had on, your mouths slanted hotly against one another as you ground over his growing erection. It wasn’t exactly a kiss—more like the two of you were just breathing each other in, sighs and pants and whimpers all.

His hands seemed unsure what to do. Clenching at the bedsheets, grazing over your side, groping at your bare breasts, pressed up against him. His mouth fell away from yours with a particularly loud whine, sinking lower to dig his teeth into your shoulder. You smelled like honey, but you didn’t taste like it. Saltier, more human. A breathless curse fell from his lips, muffled into your skin.

“Inside,” he pleaded. “Fuck, I need—please turn around—can I?”

It was hard to think straight when you could feel his dick twitching, the tip continuously brushing against your clit, sending electrifying jolts throughout your whole body. You hummed, rolling your hips over his one last time, before crawling off his lap towards the center of the bed, your back facing him. A part of you wondered if there was a reason why Roman wanted to fuck you in a less intimate position for your first time together. The other, more lust-addled part of you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Roman’s hands slipped over your waist, and he sank his throbbing cock into your slickened cunt with a pitching groan, tapering off into a whine. 

“So fucking good, Rome,” you cried out once he began unevenly thrusting, pawing at your hips as he grew more desperate—close to his release even though he’d barely even begun.

The sex itself was—it was quick, to say the least. It was clumsy, as well—but he managed to reach over and rub tight circles over your clit, which elicited a choked cry from you. At one point, you swore you felt his lips on your back, but you couldn’t be certain.

When he came, fucking spurts of hot spend into you, you shuddered violently as your orgasm crashed not two seconds later, gasping into your sheets. He thrusted into you a few more times—he liked the overstimulation, your rumbling moans, the way his cum began to trickle down your thigh.

And, finally, he eased himself out, wincing as he sank into the spot beside you. 

He panicked, just a little bit, when you pulled yourself away, getting onto your feet. 

Noticing his jerky demeanor, you offered him a soft expression. “Bathroom,” you said as a form of explanation.

That made Roman relax a bit. 

When you returned, you’d pulled on a comfortable white shirt, before slipping beneath the covers. The two of you laid together, staring at the ceiling, staring at each other, staring at your hands—intertwining together on top of the blanket.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, after ages of silence.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, molten brown downcast with shame. 

“For what?”

A click of his tongue, a roll of his eyes. “For—for the shitty fucking sex.”

You barked out a laugh, and Roman appeared mildly offended. 

“It was great, Ro. I actually came, which is more than what I can say for most people I’ve been with. Kudos to you,” you said, grinning cheekily.

“Really? It wasn’t too—was I—?”

“Roman. It was good,” you reassured, shifting closer so that you could press your nose to his cheek. “What do you want me to say? That I saw stars? My throat hurts from how much I screamed your name?”

This seemed to crack Roman’s insecure exterior, and he guffawed lightly. “You bitch. Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too.” Another moment of silence. You let go of his hand, watching him carefully. “Roman?”

“Mmh?”

“Did you fuck me to prove a point? Because of what… what Shiv said?”

The air crackled with uncertainty. Roman squinted at nothing in particular. 

Eventually, Roman crooned, “You know I’ve been wanting to stick my dick in you ever since we hit our first fucking round of puberty. You know that, right? That means we were little baby teenagers and I was fucking—fantasizing about dicking you down when I should’ve been doing my homework.” 

It felt like a weight lifted off your chest—a weight you hadn’t even known was there. “Ew, Roman. You’re gross.”

He groaned loudly, dramatically tossing an arm up to cover his eyes. “Don’t say that. I’ll get hard again.”

[luaveltarot]

🪞ᑭᗩᑕ🪞: ᗯᕼᗩT ᗪO YOᑌ ᒪOOK ᗷEᔕT Iᑎ?

🪩🪄✨📸

ᑭIᒪE 1

Chaotic Art Academia/ Trendy Dark 🧲💣

Lol your style is the complete opposite of your selection of image which is the red necklace. It’s funny but let’s talk about what you look really good in. Ok so you are my simple 90’s minimalist chic girlies.

You look best in black but your other wardrobe faves could be denim, white, tan, grey and light blue. Your black/tan statement flat or mules go with just any outfit so keep wearing them. I see you have the masculine boss look to you which is again ironical with the pic you’ve chosen (I’m sorry, i don’t want to sound like a broken tape recorder but you get it, right?). Your black bodysuit looks really nice with tan trousers. Your oversized blazer enhances your style even more. I get that people love your choice in handbags, sling bags etc. You can still wear your white shoes everywhere, it goes with everything.

You accessories your outfit less, one ring , a bracelet and a watch does the job on most days for you (which is a lot for you ik). Your hair looks best when you leave them as they are and don’t fret over it being perfect and neat from all sides. You look tamed even with wild hair so don’t stress about it.　

ᑭIᒪE 2

Colourful trendy/ oh so miss perfect 🧸🛍

You like solid colour outfits and co-ord sets. You have a light and warmth to your fashion. It’s breezy, flowy and one feels bright when they look at you. You have a thing for light shades.

You look so hot if you wear turquoise liner to your eyes. You have a good sense of eye make up. You look your best in off-white and cream coloured shades. Coral, rust, latte and peach; shades of sunsets at a beach kind. You look feminine and in your power in midi dresses or tucked tops and midi skirts. Turtle neck tops and parallel trousers/ short skirts with belt accentuates your lean figure and you look taller.

You should wear heels often, it looks good on you. I don’t feel you are much of an accessory fan may be just a classy earring, also I think you don’t need accessories since your make up holds all the glamour. Instead I get you are more into hair accessories like hair scarves and hats. You understand your style very well so I don’t need to say anything more.

ᑭIᒪE 3

The hippie baby/ colourful vintage 🎨 🗝

Colourful butterflies or should I say vibrant chameleons ( not in a bad way,I just feel whatever you wear , that colour looks good on you). I get aquatic kind of neon colours, something that catches the eye. You wear colours related to water, wellness and nature.

You look best in pink-orange colours and light blue- dark blue colours, shades of sea and candy pink. You look best in patterned clothes which have a boho edge. You look elegant and put together in skirts with crop tops and even an oversized jumpsuit. I don’t get any specific styles that you look best in because you have many styles, your mood reflects in your outfits and you like to dress accordingly. Though you could look great in floral patterned clothes, beach prints and abstract arts.

You are into accessories, you match your bags, footwear and glasses accordingly. You could like to wear rings in all fingers and if you don’t then you should try it, I feel it will make you more chic even if you choose to dress lazily.

ᑭIᒪE 4

Boss chic/ Flashlight on you 🔦 📸

You have Capricorn placements? A prominent mercury or a moon sign. You are a fashionista and have the model look,no matter your size, right, colour or hair texture. You have a look that turns people’s head. Your colours are silver, gold, purple, blue , yellow and red.

You look best in striped tucked button up shirt and dark blue jeans. You can have shoulder length hair and it looks exquisite. You can even wear a gold pendant or chain frequently or always which make you look dapper and elite. Your aura is really surreal with specs of silver and gold making you look beautiful.

You should wear boots often because that will accentuate your outfit. Try a kimono if you haven’t or leave your shirt unbuttoned and wear a vest underneath. Also a crystal ring or crystal bracelet covered in some metal will suit you. You look hot in two piece sets too.

ᑭIᒪE 5

Travel beauty/ ‘Who is that charming girl ?’ They say 🤳💅🏼

You are a true beauty even when you feel you look homeless. You have the, ‘who is that girl?’ Look, especially at airports and in grocery stores or even the girl who just passed by. You remind me of the meme where a guy who is with a girl has turned his head to look at the other girl lol. Your social media got many stalkers too haha.

You look the best in all white but if you want colours then wear a black top and red skirt with pencil heels. I also see that you look best in brown and black. You have an air of innocence in your dressing style which is draws in people like bees to honey.

For accessories your would look nice in caps, sunglasses, a watch but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to wear jewellery, you can wear earrings and necklaces but I just feel you look pretty in simple styles with light make up and branded high quality clothes.

ᑭIᒪE 6

Ancient witch / mythological goddess 🪄

You have a traditional look to you. You look gorgeous in your ethnic clothes or from the culture you belong to. I feel when you dress up in your social standings, you stand out. Then when you wear casual clothes for regular days people are taken aback by your transformation because one minute you looked so transitional and next you look like a model posing for brands in pictures.

You look best in traditional outfits as mentioned before, besides that you look really cute like kittens in dresses. You look pretty in sleeveless tops and relaxed fit straight jeans. Even a beach resort shirt with a sports vest and cargo pants. You look best when you have a sporty vibe to your personality.

You should leave your hair open mostly and a pair of earrings in accessories will accentuate your outfit enough to make you look just enough. Colours like orange and yellow look good on you too.

ᑭIᒪE 7

Fairy in the forest 🧚🏻 / Invisible crown Queen 👑

For some reason I feel that people find you unreal and unique in your fashion. You give off the severity vibes with the way you dress that people feel they’ve encountered a beautiful garden where there are many flowers and greenery.

You look best in pastel/nude colours and especially floral prints. You should wear the nude pink dress with little floral prints, even I feel enchanted by your presence. Even fur clothes make you look attractive.

For accessories, you should wear pearls because it will give you the moon glow and go well with your pastel outfits. If you have been feeling like colouring your hair then take this sign as a yes you can and also don’t cut your hair short. Your hair holds all the beauty.

ᑭIᒪE 8

Mermaid around the corals 🪸 / Angelic Baby👼

You look so sweet and dreamy. You look beautiful in shimmery clothes or see through tops. Crochet knit tops, trousers and skirts.

You should incorporate more of shiny pinks and turquoise colours in your wardrobe. Also purple is your colour. Clothes with shells or accessories with shells will enhance your personality

Stop being shy and dress as you wish girl. I feel you hesitate a lot in dressing authentically. Embrace your ethereal beauty, stop being the mermaid who hides in the abyss of darkness to protect herself from intruders. You can look beautiful and still be in limelight, please don’t shy away.

ᑭIᒪE 9

Bad bitch who is all money 💰/ luxury femme fatale

You dress expensive. You have all the trendy high brand clothes which most people can only eye. You have all luxe accessories and make up products.

You look best in everything because all your clothes screams money and let’s admit, expensive clothes look good on everyone. Your silver dress, silver boots with silver earrings will look best just in case you ever felt confused about what to wear.

Don’t forget to paint your nails red because you are the classy and elite chickkkk. Always and I mean always wear necklaces and a heavy ring because they are meant to be shown off and not to be kept in drawers.

Thanks for reading. Have a lovely day or night wherever you are. Sending you love and healing energy:)

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

Transfem Stevie who figures it out when she goes to a gay bar with Robin (post s3?) and meets another transwoman and has a Huh, you can do that? moment.

i sort of Went Off on this one lmaoo. bc im incapable of not steddifying everything this is now T4T Steddie 2: This Time They're Lesbians- with trans girl eddie cracking stevie's egg

PLEASE NOTE: this is set in the 80s, so they use kind of outdated terminology for trans people. also there's a d slur used in a positive, self-ID way. overall the vibes are good but the language is questionable. do with that what you will lol

When Robin asks Steve to be her ‘emotional support heterosexual’ (her words) for her first visit to an Indianapolis gay club, Steve prepares himself for a night of ‘hey, have you met my friend Robin’, pointedly not hitting on any girls, and politely declining offers of drinks and dances from guys until he’s buzzed enough to admit he’s curious. And so far, that’s exactly what he’s been doing. Robin’s off dancing with a girl after Steve assured her about ten times that he’d be fine on his own. He’s just debating whether or not his inhibitions are lowered enough to go dancing when his thoughts are interrupted by a voice to his right.

“Steeeeeeeve Harrington.”

Steve turns, already cringing. Anyone who says his name with a tone like that is someone who is not going to be thrilled with seeing him in a gay club. The thing is, Steve has no idea who this person is. Can’t even really tell if they’re a guy or a girl. Their features are fairly masculine, all lean muscles and square chin, but they’ve got long, wild hair and heavy eye makeup. The cropped muscle tank with ‘Massive Dyke’ printed in lurid red muddies the waters even further.

“Oh, hey… uh…” Yeah, Steve’s pulling a complete blank. They look kind of familiar? He’s definitely seen them around. Somewhere. 

They roll their eyes. “Not surprised King Steve doesn’t recognise me. Especially looking like this. What are you doing here?”

Steve sighs a little. “I’m here with a friend. She was nervous to come alone so I’m here for moral support and wingmanning.”

“Yeah, sure,” they scoff, and Steve frowns even more.

“Look, I know I was a dick in high school. And I’m genuinely sorry if I was a dick to you. But that was four years ago. I’ve grown up, and I’m here to be a good friend. Can you let me do that?”

The person blinks, and then looks a little sheepish. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” they say, before extending a hand. “And it’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Steve smiles and shakes the offered hand. “Oh, yeah! You ran that club my kids went to- dungeons and dragons, right? Cool to see you again, dude!”

Eddie’s face does a complicated little wiggle before- “Uh, not a dude, man.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m a girl, now. Still Eddie, though, it’s just short for Edith now. Have you heard of transsexuals?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m pretty new to this. I know, like. Five words.”

“Well, easiest way to put it is that I was born a guy, but I feel more like a girl, so now I’m, like, switching.”

“Switching…” Steve says, trying his best to look genuinely interested and confused. He generally doesn’t struggle too hard to look confused, but he’s a little worried Eddie will think he’s being a dick about it. “You can do that?”

Eddie snorts, gesturing down to herself. “Clearly.”

“Huh,” Steve says. Frankly, this is blowing his mind. “Why doesn’t everyone do that, then? Like, no one likes being a guy.”

“Ye- wait, what?”

“Like, the sexism of being a girl would suck, obviously. But everything else sounds great! Like, you get prettier clothes and you can wear makeup- and girls are so nice to other girls, I've always been kind of jealous of that.”

Eddie looks shocked, but Steve's on a roll now, almost forgetting she's there as he continues thinking aloud. “And like. Girls’ bodies are just. Better, y'know? Like what do guys have, muscles? Girls can have muscles too, but girls are just so… like, everyone wants boobs, right?”

Eddie has a strange look on her face. “I mean, I do. Because I’m transsexual.”

“When you’re transsexual, do you get boobs? Like, do you- wait, is that rude? I feel like I wouldn’t ask another girl about her boobs.”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, looking at Steve in bewilderment, before she seems to collect herself. She takes a swig of her beer and then smiles at him. It looks both welcoming and like she’s in on a secret, and puts Steve at ease. He can see why the kids were so obsessed with her in high school.

“You know what, ordinarily it would be kind of rude, but I have a feeling this conversation is… not what I thought it was gonna be,” she says, and Steve tilts his head a bit in confusion. “So yeah, I do have boobs. You can take estrogen as a little pill, and it basically does puberty for you again. You get boobs, a little extra fat on your hips and thighs, and your skin gets softer. Here, feel.”

And then Eddie takes Steve’s hand and slides it up her shirt. His brain immediately turns off. And yeah, there’s definitely a gentle swell there. They’re small, but Steve can feel the squish of them. Her nipples are pierced. Steve thinks he might die.

“Wow,” he squeaks, about five embarrassing octaves higher than his normal tone. “Cool!”

Eddie grins as she removes his hand from her tit. “Yeah, cool. I’d let you fondle them a little more, sweetheart, but they’re still growing. Kind of sore.”

Steve blushes, rubbing his hand on his thigh and desperately trying to will his boner down. “Man, I wish I could grow boobs,” he sighs, a little wistfully.

“You can, y’know,” Eddie says, with a little chuckle and a soft smile. “What’s stopping you?”

That. Steve hasn’t considered that. A hundred things come to his lips- he’s not like that, he’s not one of those- a hundred things that he knows are absolutely terrible reasons. If Robin were here she’d either be whacking him upside the head or giving him that really sad look she does whenever he’s mean to himself.

“Hey,” Eddie says, speaking softly and laying a gentle hand on Steve’s knee. It shocks him out of his spiral as he looks up into her big brown eyes. “Y’know, I’ve got some makeup in my van. If you wanted to try some things out. No one here will judge you.”

“I- yeah,” Steve is breathless. “I’d like that. Uh- my friend-”

“Oh, is she real? I’ll be honest, I kinda thought you were doing the ‘oh I’m not gay I’m just here for a friend’ thing.”

Laughing, Steve looks out over the crowd. “No, she’s real. Let me just let her know I’ll be gone for a moment- honestly she’s probably halfway to third base with some girl anyway-”

And sure enough, Robin is more than ready to let Steve wander off once he peels her off a pretty girl on the opposite side of the club. He rejoins Eddie, who leads him down the street towards her van and helps him into the back. She takes out her makeup bag, cracking jokes about their wildly different styles while she delicately brushes powder over his face. She generously refrains from threatening to take his eye out with the eyeliner pencil (more than once at least), and apologises for not having anything more ‘babygirl’ than her bright red lipstick. Steve can definitely say this is the most fun he’s ever had in the back of a van.

Finally, masterpiece done, Eddie rummages in her bag for a little compact, presenting it to Steve with a dumb little bow. Steve takes it with a roll of his eyes, and prepares himself with a deep breath.

The person in the mirror is beautiful. Glowing skin, huge doe eyes lined with smokey eyeliner and lashes a mile long, practically sinful lips. Steve almost doesn’t recognise himself, except that he does. He really, really does, in a way he now realises he never really has before. It’s the first time he’s ever looked at his face in the mirror and not wanted to change anything.

“You’re a really pretty girl, Stevie,” Eddie says with a gentle smile.

Steve can’t look away from the mirror. “Yeah,” she says, a red-lipped grin stretching across her face. “I really am.”

[ocean-ai]

Day 1 - Hongjoong

Pairings: Incubus! Hongjoong X Witch! Reader

Genre: SMUT

Word Count: 2,829

Warnings: Sixty-Nine, Oral (Male and female receiving)

Spicy

You woke up in your room, breath heavy as you composed yourself and sipped water. You weren’t sure what you were dreaming about, but it definitely was not pleasant. You tended to have very vivid dreams, but this one you couldn’t remember. You sighed as you laid back down, feeling a wave of tired take over your body. Shaking yourself of your dream, you drifted off to sleep. 

It hadn’t been long before you fell back asleep that you felt a presence in your room. You felt yourself wake up, but you also didn’t feel fully awake. Not thinking much of it, you stayed in bed, taking in the cool air coming from your window. Wait, your window? You could’ve sworn it was closed when you went to bed. Maybe you imagined closing it. You sat up to go close the window and that’s when you saw him, standing by your bed and watching you as you slept. 

“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” You screamed, backing away from the man in your room. “Get out!” 

He chuckled as he watched you. “I'm not here to hurt you. Remember when you messed around and did some spells with your friend to summon an incubus because you were lonely? Well, here I am.” His handsome face had amusement written all over it and your body tensed. Shit. This was who you summoned? You didn’t realize your little spell had worked. 

“Are you the incubus we called on?” You still weren’t fully sure of your powers, so your friend who was also a witch helped you along. 

“Yes, my name is Hongjoong. I knew your friend from before since a friend of mine used to visit her. I was set to visit someone else but, you’re more my type.” He winked, flashing you a smile that made you shiver. His eyes were red and had slits similar to a cat’s eye. 

Even though it was dark, you could tell he was very handsome; he had brown curly hair, his features were feminine yet masculine, and a nice body from what you could tell. He was a bit taller than you, too. He was wearing black pants that hung lowly on his hips and a black button up that was unbuttoned at the top. 

“One at a time? You don’t visit multiple people in their dreams?” 

He chuckled and shook his head. “One supernatural person at a time. We can go through humans easily. But witches? We like to stay with them; even if they don’t always want us.”  

You nodded. “What made you agree to visit me? I'm not a very strong witch, you know.” 

“Like I said, you're my type. I’m going to have fun with you.” He walked toward your bed, sitting on the edge. His eyes never left you as you watched him. It almost looked like he was floating rather than walking. You had to admit, you got lucky with this one. 

“Can I ask you something?” You said, your curiosity getting the better of you. 

“Of course,” he smiled at you again, getting a bit closer to you. You were sitting on the other side of your bed, your back against the headrest. 

“Did you disguise yourself to what I would like? I heard that your kind can change forms according to their partner.” He was like a walking fantasy for you. He was exactly what you would want in a man. 

“A little bit. My body is mine, I just changed part of my appearance to your liking.” His body language had changed, he seemed more open to you. “I know what you like based on your summoning.” He stated, as if that were the most obvious thing. 

You nodded, listening to what he just told you. You wanted to be afraid, but you also had to remind yourself that you summoned him and it’s a little late to back out now. He was here, you may as well take advantage. “What are you going to do to me?” You questioned, wondering how far you could go with him. 

His smile went from soft to wicked in an instant. “Anything you want me to do, sweetheart. You called upon me and it is my job to satisfy your needs.” He kept his distance from you, but he was still very close. In a weird way, you felt very comfortable around him. “Are you scared?” He asked, voice changing slightly as to not spook you. 

You shrugged. “No. Are you going to leave when we’re done?” You had heard stories from other people of their Incubus’ leaving when they were finished with them. Some survived, some didn’t. 

He moved to sit next to you and you could feel his body heat on yours. “Since I was summoned, I’ll come back to you whenever you want me. The only way you could get rid of me is if you were to banish me. My kind likes to stay around witches; you’re fun.” He winked. You felt yourself want to give in to him, and that you did. He was just so handsome, how could you resist? Sure, you summoned him, but he was still giving himself up to you. “Tell me, Y/N. What would you like to do? Or would you rather show me?” 

You smiled at the demon in your bed, closing the gap between you two as you quickly moved to straddle his waist. His eyes began to glow red as you leaned down to kiss his plump lips. His hands were instantly on your waist, keeping you in place as your lips danced against each other’s. The way he kissed you was unlike any way a mortal man had kissed you. He kissed you as if his life depended on it and you gave it right back to him. 

You soon felt one of his hands move up under your shirt and tease your nipple. Since you were in bed, you weren’t wearing a bra. You felt Hongjoong smirk against your kiss before he moved his lips down to your neck, where he sucked lightly and left a hickey on your skin. You wanted to be upset, but you could care less with how delicious his lips felt. 

You began to rock your hips against his, creating a friction between the two of you. You felt his cock get hard underneath you, so you began to move a bit faster, stimulating your clit and soaking your panties in the process. He moved his hips in time with yours and you moaned at the feeling. “Does that feel good?” He murmured against your neck before he repositioned you so that you were now underneath him. 

He leaned up on his knees and began to unbutton his shirt, exposing his skin under the moonlight coming through your window. It was almost as if he were glowing. For all you know, he could’ve been. But you were too turned on to even consider other visual aspects of a demon as beautiful as him. You wanted nothing more than for him to touch you again, you were worried he wouldn’t if you moved too quickly. So you settled on removing your shirt, leaving your chest now exposed to him. 

Hongjoong smirked at you, taking in your body before his eyes settled on your breasts. He was now above you, kissing along your neck and chest. You giggled and moaned at how faint his lips felt on your skin. You felt his tongue circle one of your nipples and your back arched from the feeling. He soon wrapped his lips around your nipple, suckling lightly but hard enough to tug. He switched to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment. He left no inch untouched. 

Your hands were in his hair, curling between his locks and pulling slightly. “That’s what you’re into?” He joked. You felt your cheeks get hot at his comment, not realizing you pulled his hair absentmindedly. He chuckled before going back up to kiss your lips. You placed your hands on the nape of his neck, holding him close. 

His hand that was on your hip had now moved and was teasing you through your panties. Your hips rocked into his hand, making him smirk again before moving your panties aside and dragging his fingers along your slit. “Fuck,” you moaned out, wanting nothing more than for him to continue touching you. 

“So wet for me, darling.” He said softly in your ear, making you shiver at his low tone. You moaned when he slid his finger inside you, going as deep as it could. He moved it slowly to tease you, making sure that he could prolong your pleasure. Though, he had something in mind for you two. With your permission, of course. He may be a demon, but he had rules he had to follow. He didn’t want you to think that he was bad just because he was an Incubus. 

He soon added a second finger, stretching you out just how you liked it. Even though this was your first time together, he knew what you liked. Since you summoned him, he knew a thing or two about you. You wanted to ask how he knew, but you figured it was because of what he was. You knew that an Incubus could know all about their partners if they wanted to. Hongjoong definitely wanted to know everything about you. That is why it took a few days for him to show up in front of you - he studied you before coming to visit you. 

You held him close, kissing on his neck and jaw. You just wanted to feel every part of him and you never wanted him to leave you. You knew he wouldn’t, but you still wanted him as close as possible in this moment. He was exactly what you needed. 

Your moans became louder as he continued to work his fingers inside you, teasing your inner walls and brushing against that sweet spot that drives you crazy. “Hongjoong!” You said loudly as he kept up his movements. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, say my name,” He said, knowing just how good he was making you feel. You could feel yourself getting close to your orgasm; your body writhing underneath him. Hongjoong raised himself off you once again to take in how you looked. A devilish smile plastered on his beautiful face as he got you off with just his fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you and you could barely make a sound. He made you feel a little too good. He removed his fingers from your core and placed them in his mouth, licking them clean of your juices. He moaned, “You’re delicious; I want more.”  

You looked into his glowing red eyes and you knew you had to prepare yourself to whatever he had planned for you. Your eyes had also wondered as he fully began to remove his clothes. Even though it was dark, you were still able to see the bulge in his pants; his was dick strained against the fabric and all you wanted to do was relieve him. You reached your hand out to unbutton his pants, and he looked down at you, thinking about what he wanted to do next. 

Once his pants were down, you had a full view of his cock. You practically drooled at the sight, just wanting it in your mouth and down your throat. You looked into his eyes before you leaned in and gave his tip a little flick with your tongue. He hissed at the contact, but he didn’t let you continue what you were doing. Instead, he pushed you down onto your back, confusing you. “What the hell?” You questioned. 

“I have an idea, Y/N. Why don’t we both please each other?” He raised a brow at you and you wanted to know exactly what he meant by that. 

You giggled. “Isn’t that what we would be doing anyway?” 

He shook his head and stayed silent as he removed your shorts and the rest of his clothes. Now that you were both naked, Hongjoong had positioned you on top of him before you could even register what had happened. Due to your new position, his cock was in your face, ready to be taken care of by you. You’d never been in this position before, and your body surged with excitement. Especially, since you were doing this with a demon. 

Hongjoong smirked before he slowly moved his tongue along your core, making you moan out from the new pleasure. The way he slithered his tongue against you had your eyes rolling back. He felt so good to you, but you quickly remembered that he needed to receive pleasure too. His beautiful cock was just begging for you to touch it, the tip red and dripping with precum. You licked his shaft before wrapping your lips around his tip. “Fuck,” you heard him moan, your ears perking up at the sound. 

You bobbed your head slowly as to prolong his pleasure. You wanted him to feel as good as he made you feel. His tongue was soon inside you, swirling around and going as deep as it could. Your hips began to move, but Hongjoong held you down to keep you still. You tried your best to not move as much, but it was hard considering the way he tongue moved. 

You focused on his cock, wrapping your hand around what didn’t fit in your mouth and stroking him in time with your licks. His own hips bucked slightly when you took him further in, almost touching the back of your throat. You pulled away and smirked before doing tour best to deep throat him. His tip had teased the back of your throat, making you gag around him. The tightness causing him to moan against your center, causing the vribration to go through your whole body. 

Hongjoong’s had moved and wrapped his lips around your clit, teasing and sucking. One of his hands was no longer on you, but instead, he slid two fingers inside you easily. You pulled your mouth off his dick to moan out loud, feeling full from his fingers and overly satisfied from his tongue. You knew that being intimate with an Incubus would be fun, but you never imagined that it would surpass any expectation you had. You wanted to be with him as long as you possibly could. 

Hongjoong’s fingers teased your inner walls, finding that spot once gain that he found earlier. Hongjoong was toying with your body and you loved every touch, caress and flick of his tongue. You moaned around his cock, making it twitch in your mouth. You felt proud of yourself that you could please a demon like Hongjoong - you never thought that it would be possible. 

You once again attempted to deep throat him, taking him as far into your mouth as you possibly could, making Hongjoong’s hips buck into you. You gagged again and pulled away, his dick now messy with your saliva and his precum. You could tell by the way he was breathing that he was going to cum at any minute. Determined to make him cum, you strocked his cock a bit faster while focusing on his head. You licked the underside of his shaft, and you felt him pull away from you to let out one of the loudest and hottest moans you’d heard in your entire life. You kept up your movements and before you knew it, his hipes jerked as he came. You caught some of it, but it mostly landed on part of your face and dripped down onto his thigh. 

Hongjoong went back to your core, fingers moving faster in you as they continuously teased your spot. The combination of his tongue lapping at your clit and the way his fingers moved inside you was making you closer and closer to your high. He was quick with his movements, knowing you liked it a bit on the faster side, and he felt you clench around his fingers. “Come on pretty girl, I know you want to cum,” His filthy word went straight to your pussy and you screamed as you came around his fingers and tongue. 

Your orgasm rocked though your entire body and you almost felt yourself go limp on top of him. “Fuck!” you yelped as your body twitched from the aftershocks. Hongjoong had removed his fingers, but he still gave your clit some attention. He helped you work through your orgasm and when he felt that you’d had enough, he moved so that he could lay next to you. 

You turned to the beautiful man next to you, taking in what had just happened. His red eyes were still glowing, which you knew meant that he wasn’t finished with you. Good, you weren’t finished with him, either.

[swabian-princess]

The Cheatcode

Hello Ladies,

I’ve found the cheat code when it comes to hypergamy! You’ll only need a little start capital…not that much, only around 1-2k.

You need to rebuild your entire wardrobe. Yes. Throw out your crop tops and your leggings. No high value man wants a woman that is dressed like a yoga teacher all day. I don’t care if you’re only 21. Buy all those long skirts and button up tops and don’t even think about purchasing a bag cheaper than 500 dollars.

Think about what you can do in terms of your appearance. Maybe a nose job or a skinny BBL? If you’re lucky you can get away with only lip fillers.

Only speak about feminine stuff. Home decor. How you’re planning to homeschool your children. Let the man talk about masculine things like politics or finances.

Are you still reading? Well…I have a surprise for you…

…there is no such thing as a cheatcode.

Sorry, but I need to rant a little bit.

I’m so fucking annoyed at posts like this. There is currently and likely never will be a cheatcode for hypergamy.

Don’t believe those feminity influencers – most of them aren’t even married or have bagged a billionaire. Don’t buy books from these people and don’t give them money for strange online classes, that claim you’ll meet a billionaire within a five step program.

The truth is, wether you like it or not, that only very few woman will marry into high society and even fewer will stay in those circles.

I don’t know if you get it but those men are only human and want a honest connection with their partner. (Well, I’m sure there are men that really only care about looks but is this really a man you would like to marry? Even if he’s the richest man on the planet?)

Hypergamy is work. Hard fucking work.

Many of you seem to think that those men only fuck you and look at you. What do you do if you can’t fuck because you’re on a gala or his mothers birthday dinner? You’ll have to open your mouth and start talking.

I’m like 98% sure that you could be a grenade in bed and the most beautiful woman that ever walked on earth, if you can’t hold a conversation for longer than a minute, you won’t be succesful.

I am not that beautiful myself, I’m average with a few nice features but I can entertain my boyfriend for hours just talking about my day. I can discuss current politics with him and talk about his business without googling every second phrase.

He loves to spend time with me because he likes how I make him feel. I make him feel welcomed in his home, I make sure to listen to his problems and about what brings him joy. I am the first person he wants to call when he has a hard or a very succesful day because he know that my reactions are always honest and genuine. I won’t just tell him what he wants to hear – I tell him my opinion.  

Another thing that bugs me, is that those feminity influencers make relationships seem like the only things to do are shopping, taking vacations and going out to eat.

Honestly it’s fucking hard to be with a high value man.

High value man = very full schedule.

My boyfriend works from 5:30am to 7pm and sometimes even longer. When he comes home he wants to shower, eat something and talk to me.

I prepare his meals and clean the house while he’s at work. I do grocerie shopping and laundry, I iron his clothes and order his skin and haircare products.

He doesn’t expect me in a full face of makeup and a bodycon dress with heels when he gets home but he wants me to be clean and freshly showered. He want’s no drama and he expects that I know my place – beside him.

A relationship is work, especially if you’re in one with a man that works 80+ hours a week. Don’t expect endless shopping trips with him or a nice dinner every day. There is a reason why he has money – he works for it and his working hours are usually very long.

Okay, thats all I have for now.

Bye Bye

Selene

[newtthetranswriter]

Birthday Twins?

Word count: 1338

Paring: Gojo x reader

Summary: What was supposed to be a night out alone to celebrate your birthday, turns into meeting another soul alone on what is apparently also his birthday.

Warnings: Forgotten birthdays, mentions of bars, Gojo is probably a little ooc. let me know if i missed anything.

A/N: Happy birthday to the Beautiful Gojo. I feel like at this point this Fic event has turned into celebrating different anime character’s December birthdays, but you know what, that’s fine. Anyway, thanks to [ena] for the idea for this one, as well as the one coming out on Hawks’ birthday. I hope everyone enjoys and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

   Birthdays suck, especially when you've spent every one alone. It doesn't help having your birthday so close to such a major holiday. Everyone thinks oh your birthday’s right before Christmas it must mean double the presents when in reality half the time people completely forget about your birthday. It's all about Christmas and the other winter holidays, birthdays come second.

   This year though I decided it'd be different, I may not have anyone to celebrate with, but I can still have a good time. I planned a night out for myself, going to a nice dinner followed up by a couple drinks at the club. So to start my night of fun, I got dressed in my best outfit.

    When I got to the restaurant, I got a few sad looks from bystanders, who I assume felt bad for me going out by myself. But I don't care, I’m going to spoil myself and have a good night. 

    Ignoring the pity glances, I enjoyed my meal. I had a small chat with the waiter before paying and heading out for the rest of my night.

    Making it to the club, I was greeted by the loud and chaos filled environment which people expect when going out. I weaved my way through the crowd, finding an empty place at the bar, and politely waved down the bartender.

    After I received my drink, the bartender decided to strike up a conversation. “So, what's a pretty thing like you doing out here alone?” They asked. I just rolled my eyes before thanking them for a drink, walking to an empty booth, to just watch the crowd.

     Settling into my seat, I looked at my drink, the bartenders words making me think about how truly alone I am at this moment. Sighing to my self, I raised my class in a mock toast, “Well, Happy Birthday to me.” As I was about to down my drink, I froze, having heard the exact same sentence in a more masculine tone from right behind me. I quickly turned around to see a white-haired man with dark sunglasses looking directly at me as well. Stunned, I couldn’t think of anything to say, the only thing coming to mind was ‘fuck he’s hot’.

     Noticing my stunned state, the attractive stranger spoke first. “Seems like we’re both in the same situation, care to discuss over a drink” He said with a smirk. I jumped, not expecting him to offer company. I guess he took my surprise as an answer and moved from his spot to sit across from me in my booth. “The name's Satoru Gojo. Nice to meet you.” He introduced, while sitting down.

    “Um Y/n Y/l/n, nice to meet you.” I said, still processing the events of the last few minutes. “So it’s also your birthday?” I asked the most logical question to start this conversation.

    Gojo just smiled before responding. “Yup, figured I’d spend it watching people make poor choices.” He said, gesturing to the club full of drunk people. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you spending the day alone?” He questioned.

    Figuring this was better than drinking my thoughts away, I responded. “I don’t have many friends, and even if I did, they would probably forget about my birthday anyway, everyone always does.” It was harsh, but the truth, forgotten birthdays were extremely common for me growing up. I watched as the man across from me frowned slightly. “So, Gojo, why are you spending the day alone? I’m sure someone as handsome as you, has at least one person to spend the day with.” I said in a slightly flirtatious manner, trying to lighten the mood.

    I watched as he smirked slightly at the complement before responding. “Actually, with my line of work, I don’t have much time to get out. Plus, it’s too dangerous to drag someone into my lifestyle.” Now that piqued my interest, what did this guy do for work that was so dangerous.

   “Well, then what do you do for work? What could be so bad that you don’t have a partner in life? Are you a criminal or something?” I asked, hoping to have not over stepped.

   It was clear that he had to take a moment to decide whether to answer or not, but when he sighed, I knew he made his decision. Finishing off his drink, he started talking. “It’s difficult to explain, the most I can say is that my job is to keep people safe, and it’s agreed upon by everyone in this field that I’m the best. Trust me, I’m not trying to be cocky. It’s the truth, everyone looks to me for help when they can’t fix something.” He said, looking down at the table. I took a moment to process, this guy wants me to believe that his job is so dangerous he can’t tell me much other than the fact that he’s the best. 

   It is hard for me to believe, but the look on this man’s face told me he was being truthful. “Well, if people rely on you that much, you have to at least have some friends to talk to?” I asked, hoping to learn more.

   I watched as a gentle smile took over his face. “Yeah, I do have a couple friends, but the ones I talk to most are my students. I’m teaching them how to do this job so they can take over when the older generation is gone, but sometimes it feels like they’re actually my kids.” He spoke about these students like they were his world. “I honestly don’t know where I would be without them.”

   “So you’re the strongest and a teacher, what can’t you do?” I joked, earning a laugh from the man across from me. “But in all honesty, it’s amazing that you’re teaching the future generation. I may not know what it is your job entails, but it sounds like guidance is a good thing to offer to them.” I smiled, making eye contact with him over the edge of his glasses, taking in his bright blue eyes for just a moment.

   He smirked, noticing that I was amazed by his beautiful eyes. “Thank you. Now, enough about me and what I do, What does the wonderful Y/n do for work?” He asked, shifting the conversation.

   Snapping out of the trance his eyes put me in, I thought for a second. “I just work at the mall. Nothing amazing, just a simple customer service job.” I explained, looking off to the side. Here I am talking with this guy who teaches the next generation of what ever job he does, and all I do is try not to get yelled at by cranky people all day. It’s obvious that he’s way better off than I am.

   “Hey, don’t be embarrassed by that, I don’t think I could survive a day dealing with entitled karens and grumpy assholes.” He said with a laugh. “Plus, without people working in customer service, this world would crumble.” It was clear he was trying to make feel better about it.

   I just smiled in response before thinking of another topic, as work was a boring on for me. “Ok, how about a change of topic, What is your favorite food?” I asked, hoping to smoothly change focus, but still keep talking.

   From the smile on his face, I could tell he was fine with the change of topic, as he went on to explain that he’s a fan of anything sweet and began listing some of his favorites. 

   That’s how we spent the rest of the night, talking about anything from our favorite food, to what shows we were currently watching. Sure, I started today thinking it was going to be another lonely birthday, but fate was on my side and showed me someone to connect with. Hopefully if this goes well then on our next birthday neither of us will have to spend it alone.

[ugh-yoongi]

inspired by your post about your husband lol, what random things do each member of bts do that make them a new level hotter to you

this is such a cute question!! well, maybe not cute depending on the response, but. u know. 🤷🏻‍♀️

seokjin — i think people are expecting me to say his brat taming thing, bc it is objectively hot, but if this is a safe space and we’re oversharing together on a stormy friday night, i think it’s kinda hotter if he… doesn’t? like, knows you’re being a brat but goes along w it and “lets” you act up. so that’s not my answer, obviously.

so, to me, it’s his perseverance. i think it’s very hot to straight up say, “hey, i’m not all that great at this, but i’m gonna do it and try my best anyway.” i am a person who gives up the second i’m not good at something right away or as soon as it gets hard, so. yeah. very attractive and hot quality.

yoongi — cop out answer, but anytime he does anything with his hands. it almost put me in the ground when he made all those cutting boards. add on him playing guitar and i was donezo. he has really nice hands and he knows he has really nice hands and it’s sick. he’s sick.

hobi — idk how to explain it but hobi emanates this absolute freak aura and it’s, like. very hot. like you can just tell he’s comfortable and confident in himself and would be down to do anything and get a lil weird with it, and that kind of energy is powerful.

namjoon — this is where parasocial relationships come in handy bc this is something i find so hot hypothetically but would make me wanna strangle him irl, but: his petty streak. my god this man is SO petty and i find it SO hot, but if it was directed at me i’d cry so bad. like, hickeygate??? closer pt. 2?? kill me.

jimin — his absolute disregard for gender roles. really fucking hot. talking abt how much toxic masculinity sucks? hot. drawing the bigender symbol on himself? hot. being described as having “gender neutral charm”? hot.

this is not me trying to assign him a label. it’s me as a person who does not necessarily feel all that connected to their gender (hard to describe what i mean by this but: i’m cis and know i’m cis but i still don’t know what being a woman means to me personally, and therefore i feel disconnected from it sometimes) seeing someone look at what society expects them to look and be like because they’re a man, and say, “yeah, nah.”

taehyung — how messy he is. another trait that might drive me bonkers irl, but from a very far distance? love it. it’s similar to what i said about jimin in the sense that, as an idol, there are expectations for him. and he just waves them away. like, there are not very many idols who are gonna go on weverse and threaten to shoot someone in the neck for violating their privacy, but taehyung will, and that’s very hot of him. those pictures from that club in paris? also very hot of him. he just sort of does what he wants and in an industry that’s so rigid and boxed-in, i can’t help but love a rebel.

jungkook — idk man. fucking everything. i had an embarrassing and public meltdown over him last year in his calvin klein era and now i can’t look him in the eye. if you put a gun to my head and made me pick one, though? it’s the way he’s got this overwhelming sort of fuckboy energy but you also know you could make him cry. we love a man with duality.

[gabessquishytum]

Hello, I’m the damsel fantasy anon, I love the no sex-ed virgin dream au, particularly the pregnancy stuff, thought I’d turn it around with Hob instead being the one to get knocked up: Hob’s pretty careful with his birth control and making sure Dream wears condoms, but he decides to ask Dream one night if he’s comfortable forgoing the condom, just this once, he wants to feel Dream cum inside him, and it turns out the stars aligned that night for his birth control to fail.

Dream knows in theory that condoms were for preventing pregnancy, because Hob explained all this to him one of the few times he taught Dream about sex through discussion instead of a hands-on demonstration, but Hob was accidentally a little vague about how it applied to him, so Dream thought the two of them only used condoms for std prevention or for the nebulous “safe sex” or something. He genuinely didn’t think he could get Hob pregnant despite Hob having a pussy, because they’re still both men (learning this reasoning later, Hob has no choice but to kiss him senseless)

So when Hob starts experiencing morning sickness and other symptoms, pregnancy is the last thing on Dream’s mind as he fusses over his sick boyfriend, and he straight up bluescreens when Hob sheepishly shows him a positive pregnancy test. When he reboots (and understands that this is in fact a thing (and after Hob kisses the shit out of him)) Dream is GLUED to Hob’s side, dedicating himself to waiting on him hand and foot, constantly staring at Hob’s growing belly with awe and wonder. Feeling the baby kick is a religious experience, that’s an entire baby in there! Dream and Hob’s baby! Dream manage to put a baby in Hob!

(The pregnancy sex is a whole other revelation, seeing Hob’s changing body day-by-day, the constant reminder that Dream managed to knock him up, oh hello breeding kink nice to meet you)

(If no one minds, is 🪽anon free to take?)

Dream being trans ally icon of the year while also being the most adorably clueless bastard ever? I love it, I'm kissing it. You are so welcome to be 🪽 anon!

Imagine how nervous poor Hob would be! He's not 100% sure that Dream wants to be with him longterm, and with a baby in the middle it's all about to get so complicated. Plus Hob doesn't really have a big family to support him. But he decides to keep the kid either way, and just hope that Dream is on board too.

First Dream is like "How? You're a boy?" And Hob cries a bit and kisses him and tries to explain as much as he can that he still has all the equipment for making a baby. That they have, in fact, made a baby. That he really really wants Dream to come to the first midwife appointment because he wants them to do this together.

And for Dream it's not even a question! There's nothing that's going to stop him from staying by Hob’s side. They're boyfriends, right? They'll get through the pregnancy together and when the baby comes they'll make it all work out, somehow. He kisses Hob’s belly (which Hob thought was so cringy when he saw other people do it but now he just melts).

On Hob’s masculine frame, his belly starts to pop rather quickly. Within a few short weeks his t-shirts are riding up and he has to slink off to the shops and buy a size up. Dream is unashamedly obsessed with the bump and if Hob isn't touching it (He gets this cute habit of resting his hand on his belly) then Dream is instead. Hob dresses in dungarees and big t-shirts, but also leggings and crop tops, because the summer heat is really starting to get to him. Dream buys him the most expensive frappes that he's craving all the time now, and makes him ice packs and gives him ankle rubs.

He also just goes ahead and buys an anatomy book. It's probably time that he should learn about his own body (and Hob’s) before any further happy accidents occur. And Hob definitely still seems interested in Dream’s dick despite all the trouble it's caused! His favourite thing is lying on his side while Dream fucks him from behind, hands cupped around Hob’s belly to keep him from slipping into an uncomfortable position. He can even fall asleep with Dream rocking into him, and claims that its the only time he feels comfortable.

The day when Dream refers to himself as "daddy" for the first time is also the day when Hob's cunt finally leaks through his underwear. Its kind of mortifying for him to explain to Dream that no, his water didn't break, he's just really that horny.

[zeddimusprime]

Trans Man Noah Diaz

The first time I saw Rise of the Beasts, I read Noah as a Trans Man, and that headcanon just solidified after my second viewing.

I’ll get the heavy reasons out of the way first, and work down to the most silly ones.

The section that was here before has been removed, because I was overstepping and someone rightly called me out on it. However. I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t do what I did. I deleted the comment that called me out because it made me feel bad, I panicked, and deleted it to save my own ego. It was wrong, it was cowardly, it was fucked up, and I shouldn’t have done it.

I truly am sorry, and have spent the last day sitting with myself until I stopped trying to excuse my behavior and just acknowledged what I did. I am not asking for forgiveness, I can only try going forward to be the kind of person deserving of it.

For now, I’m taking a break from this blog, leaving it on a queue, and I won’t be posting here for a while. Even though that isn’t the kind of person I want to be, I need to reckon with the fact that that is the kind of person I am. I’m sorry, once again.

1994 was also the year Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was put into place, which, for those too young to remember, was basically a policy allowing queer and trans people to serve in the military so long as they remained closeted, and prohibited superiors from forcibly outing them. Given that we’re never actually told in the film why Noah was discharged, it’s not unreasonable to think that it may have been because he got found out as trans.

The part that’s particularly personal for me is his relationship with Kris. I’ve also got a little brother that’s quite a bit younger than me, and I acted as an extra parent to him, practically raised him since we were both latchkey kids, and yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d face the apocalypse head on if it meant keeping him safe. All that to say, it’s comforting to think that Noah’s identity as a man is inseparable from his identity as a Big Brother, the way it is for me.

Most of my other reasons are less serious:

Noah wears a lot of layers and baggy clothes on his upper half, which yes, was part of 90s fashion, but it’s also how I dressed for most of my life, even before I realized I was trans.

Noah is also non-toxically masculine in a way that’s not unheard of but also not as common for men, especially service members, of that time period. Again, there may very well be a cultural component I’m missing here, let me know if there is, but this is just something I related to as a Guy Who Wasn’t Raised As One.

This last one’s kinda silly, but I’m a Car Guy, and one of the most gender euphoria inducing things I can do is work on my car. There’s few things that make me feel like Man quite like sweat on my brow and grease on my hands and a purring engine from a job well done. So for Noah to not only be a tech wiz but specifically a Mechanic? That was the thing that really sold me on this headcanon. (And that’s not even getting into the very fun implications of Noah being the one to repair Mirage, to get to know him so intimately, literally inside and out. Very nice.)

(I also love the idea that rather than being weirded out or taken aback at first like he is in some fics, Noah would be kinda weirdly affirmed to find out that not only does Mirage have some of roughly the same *equipment* while still being treated as and being a Mech, but his setup is the norm for Cybertronians. I can so picture Noah anxiously telling Mirage about his situation when they finally get together only for Mirage to be like “you mean other human mechs don’t have a 🐈??? Like, most humans only have one or the other?????”)

[ms-gallows]

Leon Kennedy headcanons: Romantic Relationships

Reposting because tumblr ate it. Based on RE4 Remake Leon.

I said in a previous post that RE4 Remake Leon reminded me a little of Mr. Darcy. With his crush, he’d be more quiet than usual. Unsure of how to act on feelings (or if he should) and worried how his crush would react. Being slightly curt with his crush. Trying to sneak some stares and looking away just as he’s about to get caught. They would be certain that he dislikes them, when he’s really just nervous. They would never guess he had a crush on them  because he’d seem so distant. But he would do some nice things behind the scenes. Overhear you saying you need to buy some trivial thing, you come back the next day and it’s on your desk. Stiffly suggests going out together, but just casually, of course. It’s not like he likes you or anything. Puts on a serious face and asks if you’d like to get coffee:

This is exactly the face he makes when he asks. This is a very serious situation. “Coffee. Would you join me for some?”

(RE2 Leon would have handled it differently. Still shy and awkward, but definitely less businesslike. More prone to blushing and chuckling nervously. “I was..um...wondering if you’d like to get some coffee. Sometime. Anytime-uh..”)

Now I think this cold/distant approach I’m describing is something that happens if Leon is actually romantically interested in someone. If he’s just looking to fuck he’s more suave and flirtatious. So if he has a one-night stand that turns into something more, his partner is going to be in a very awkward situation while he figures his shit out. He doesn’t seem like a romantic person, but the want for romance is definitely there. He’s just very pragmatic and task oriented. But in his heart of hearts, he wants something deep and intimate; a melding of two souls. He just doesn’t really indulge in those feelings because he thinks it won’t happen for him.

If someone gives him a very heartfelt and sincere compliment, he doesn’t really know what to do. He gets flustered internally and it doesn’t compute. Just kind of goes blank. That, or he laughs it off. Did they really just say that? Do I need to get my hearing checked? When pursuing women, he’s definitely got an urge to be gentlemanly. It can come off as a little traditional. He’s definitely egalitarian in his beliefs, he just falls back on convention with dating, ie: paying for dinner, giving his date his coat if she gets cold, etc. When pursuing men, that’s where he’s out of his element. In my headcanon, Leon didn’t accept he was into men until he was an adult. With women, he falls back on the conventions of dating, but with men, he has to rethink it. Do we split the bill? Do I pay? Does he pay? It’s easier for men to make him blush as well. When pursuing enbys, he’d be more careful and anxious. He’d probably still unconsciously take up a masculine role, but he’d ask a lot more about how they’d prefer he act. He doesn’t want them to be uncomfortable around him. Pays careful attention to how they want to present one day to the next if they’re fluid. (God damn it I want a fic of Leon finding out his crush is non-binary lol) Leon might take a little time learning to work with neurodivergent partners, but once he learns what they need, he’s very patient, understanding, and attentive to their needs. (sidenote: I adore autistic Leon headcanons)

Ends up dating normie women a lot, but has a soft spot for alternative   women/men/enbys. They tend to enjoy the same music as him so he likes that. I get this feeling from Remake Leon specifically. I feel like OG Leon wouldn’t be interested in alt people that much.

Artistic types are foreign but intriguing to him because he doesn’t have a creative bone in his body. It would be so funny to see him getting with an academic nerd type? “I don’t care for this architecture. Who pairs Corinthian columns with Ogival arches?” “Yeah babe, it’s terrible.” (has no idea what they’re talking about) “Whoever is responsible must pay for this assault on my senses.” “I’ll get on that.” (sarcasm) He’s drawn to people who are intelligent and compassionate. People who are mature and capable of deeper discussion. Likes people he can learn from. Also a plus if someone can defend themselves or is willing to learn to. He doesn’t want to worry about their safety. It’s one of the main reasons he doesn’t look for a partner (for now...I’m sure there’s a breaking point. A dark sense of humor is also appreciated, though he typically makes sure to be sensitive with serious subjects himself. If you can get him to do a double take with a dark joke, he’s going to remember you. End: feel free to give feedback!

[pinkandpurple360]

Even being the Fizzomdous trash as I am, I'm starting to get worried about some of the ask of those trying to defend it.

Both Fizz and Ozzie are grown men, not children. Yeah, if Fizz and Ozzie broke up: they'll get over it eventually because life goes on. Sure one of them may have a harder time than the other due to attachment issues but if you lived for thousands of years you had to have friends come and go and yeah, I refuse to believe Fizz is the first person he fell in love with. You live that long you more than likely had crushes or grew feelings for someone (unless you're aro and even then platonic queer relationships exist).

That and it's unhealthy to have your life devoted around one person and no one else. The problem I just realized about Viv's pairings in the show is that it seems that both are supposedly completely 'in Love' with each other but don't have a life outside of that. Millie and Moxxie are glued to the hip but are you telling me neither of them have people they hang out with outside of work or their relationship? How often does Millie see or talk to her family? Where's her friends? Does she even have any? Same with Moxxie? Do they have hobbies they both like when they're not together? Even couples are gonna have different interests from each other. Granted, I'm not saying we need to see every part of their life but my point stands that even in healthy relationships, couples do have lives outside of each other. Isolating yourself and spending time with only your partner and partner alone is going to lead to some codependency and I don't know about you, that ain't romantic.

Also people saying that Ozzie and Fizz can't break up for Fizz to be with Blitzo: Um, all three of them have two hands? And damn does Blitzo need a partner that isn't going to talk down to him and see him as a sex object. He gets two loving boyfriends for the price of one! Everyone wins but Stolas but who cares about Stolas he proves he shouldn't be in a relationship right now with how he treats others around him. Heck Blitzo already has more chemistry with Oz than he does with uwu sad owl boi. I know poly isn't for everyone but c'mon people think outside the box!

(and I'm sure Ozzie is more than down for a threesome. just saying).

Seriously, some of you who are grown adults really have a childish view on relationships.

I’m a fan of them myself. And I have no problem just enjoying the story as it is. I’m just trying to take a critical view on it and keep in mind the fact that this show is supposed to be on the maturity level of Bojack, soo what’s with all these heroic masculine characters rescuing feminine characters from all their troubles.

Why are people talking about “soulmates” — a concept I don’t really believe in. Two people can meet at the right time and fit perfectly, or they can just barely miss each other, the attraction and compatibility either gets stronger or weaker with time. That’s why love is so special when you do have it. That’s just my experience though if people don’t like that I won’t force it on them.

Going back to MnM, nobody has dethroned them yet. Not even close. Millie and Moxxie are so so different but they met at the perfect time for something beautiful to blossom. But if Moxxie, a terrified impressionable person in the past, met Millie, a once violent unforgiving person, they wouldn’t have clicked. It would have been the wrong time. Now however they are very much compatible and in love but slowly leaving the honeymoon phase. That transition is very difficult. It explains perfectly why they’re still so rosy cheeked and gleeful to be around each other. The two are newly weds.

Exactly exactly, that annoys me too. So. why don’t the two of them have other friends? It’s all entirely each other or their boss blitzø. But B actually does have friends he used to party with. And probably connections in lust? but we never see them. Wouldn’t it be nice if Millie had a favourite western themed bar with a small social group and knife throwing tournaments? Maybe Mox knows some people from the shooting range or from the opera theatre he loves so much. Idk. Just ideas.

Oh yeah polyamory. What a concept. Blitzfizzarozzie is such a perfect ot3 and you’re right. Asmodeus built a mutually respectful trust with Blitz in what..? Ten minutes? With a foundation that they both love and protect Fizz. And it’s probably been over a year and stolas can’t even have one conversation that is non hostile and non sexual with him. Not one.

I’ve heard rumours that allegedly Viv gets the ick from polyamory. That and her alleged hostility to trans men…so much for a “queer” show. I really really wish she’d put out a statement about how she doesn’t believe this anymore, ‘was in a bad place’ or something, instead of running from it. I wouldn’t be so quick to let it go personally considering how much denial and dishonesty she was in, but most fans would eat it up.

If she has addressed it let me know actually, might be wrong.

[spiderlilyserendipity]

JJK x Reader: Pushover

Summary: As an heiress on a mission to not get married, you go on a lot of marriage dates with older men. Finally meeting a man your age, you think Jeon Jungkook will have the same idea in mind as you. But you’re in for a surprise. Part 7 of the No Time for Love oneshot series!

Genres: Smut (pure smut hahaha)

Tags: Dom!Jungkook, good boy! Jungkook, Rich Girl!Y/N, Sub!Y/N, possessiveness!!!!!!!, oral sex (m. receiving), doggy style, JJK’s tats make an appearance, implied manhandling kink, aftercare, welcome to hell ladies. 

Warnings: Unprotected sex!! (wrap it up)

WC: 3.1k

For the first and only time, these marriage dates feel useful to you.

A weekend getaway is what you need after a long few months of trying to run off older suitors. You’re only twenty-three, still a college student with a lot of potential in life. Yet, for rich people, young just means eligible for marriage. Because marriage is a way to get more connections and money in life.

Your parents have tried all sorts of things. You’ve run them all off in one way or another. With the rude or annoying ones, you played it dumb and matched their energy. With the hot and likable ones, you usually took them home on the first night. 

Now at the end of their wits, your parents decide that fuck it, maybe someone your age will change your mind on marriage. You know for a fact it won’t, but you’re grateful nonetheless for tonight’s date.

Jeon Jungkook is the son of your parents’ company’s Director Jeon. He’s everything you’d want in a son-in-law, at least on paper. He’s already got a Master’s in business even though he’s only a year older than you, speaks multiple languages, and is reportedly very polite and handsome. Even though you don’t personally believe in marriage, you can’t lie – Jeon Jungkook definitely sounds like the full package.

With such a reliable son, it’s been rumoured Director Jeon will be retiring to hand over his position soon. It’s been said that Jungkook has been working day in and out to earn his father’s position, and that despite his looks, Jungkook is quite serious and doesn’t like partying or noise. You respect the man’s introverted nature, which is why you take up your parents’ offer for a weekend away at your beach side summer home.

You meet Jungkook at the mansion, which is set up next to the beach.

“Hello.” He spots you, coming over with a smile. You take a minute to check him out. Oh he’s handsome, even more handsome than the rumours say. His hair is parted a little to show a wide forehead, and his features are strong and masculine. But you can tell from his full-sleeved button up and ironed slacks that he is as uptight as the rumours say as well.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You smile at him, then lead him inside. 

“How has your week been?” Jungkook asks you, obviously a little nervous.

“Good, good.” You answer, already a little bored. If only Jeon Jungkook was as flirtatious as he is handsome. But no matter, you’ve got a way with men like him. “Are you looking forward to the beach?”

Jungkook gives you a small, unconvincing smile. “Yes.”

You stop yourself from frowning. What, is he planning to work while we’re here?

You head to your separate rooms, starting to unpack. You’re halfway done when you get a text from your cousin Lena. Call me RN!!

“Yes?” You ask her when she picks up.

“Are you on a date with Jeon Jungkook right now? Like THE Jeon Jungkook?” Lena squeals in your ear. You pull the phone away from your ear. “I came here with my girls for the weekend and almost fainted when I saw you going inside with him!”

“Yeah. He’s kinda uptight though.” You admit. “Although maybe he’ll warm up to me over the weekend.”

“We’re throwing a pool party tonight, bring him at all costs! If you’re not into this hot nerd, I sure am!” Lena giggles. 

You grin. “No way, he’s mine for the weekend.”

“That depends on who snags him first Y/N!” Lena laughs. “I’ll see you tonight at 7. Don’t be late!”

You hang up, smiling at your phone. It’s been ages since you saw your cousin, and you like her idea. Maybe Jeon Jungkook will warm up to you after a couple drinks. You’re not in this for marriage, but you certainly won’t mind having Jungkook in your bed tonight.

You finish unpacking and go downstairs, humming happily to yourself. Your smile immediately falls off your face when you see Jungkook sitting on the sofa, his work laptop in hand.

“Jungkook?” You ask.

He looks up at you, slightly startled. Then, he gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, just checking the stock prices for today.”

You chew your bottom lip. You get the sudden feeling he’ll say no to going to the party. “So…”

Suddenly, Jungkook looks at the clock behind you. “Oh, how rude of me! It’s lunchtime.”

What? You think, watching him close the laptop and stand up. You follow him to the kitchen, watching him look through the cabinets and the fridge. “What would you like to eat, Miss Y/N? I’m a pretty good cook.”

You shrug. “Ramen is okay.”

You watch Jungkook turn away from you, humming to himself as he begins to cook the noodles. You’re nervous, something that you never really are around men. But there’s something about Jungkook that makes him special. He just feels like an adult, like someone who knows what he’s doing and doesn’t have time for things like silly parties.

Still, it’s worth a shot. “Hey, Jungkook.” You ask him. Jungkook turns around from the stove.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Um, so.. My cousin is here this weekend too and they’re throwing a pool party at their house tonight. Would you like to come with me?”

As expected, Jungkook doesn’t exactly look thrilled at the idea. “Um, sure.”

You feel your heart sink. Are you getting rejected right now. 

“Here you go.” Jungkook places the plate of noodles in front of you a couple minutes later. You watch him pick up his plate and leave, probably to go look at stocks or whatever the fuck.

“What a dick.” You mutter to yourself. 

After a while of sulking, you decide you’re not going to let Jungkook’s uptightness bother you. 

You doll yourself up tonight, in a cute bikini and a light slip dress that leaves little to the imagination. You put your hair up in a half up half down look, putting on some light makeup. You adorn your wrists with bracelets and grab a pair of sunglasses, just for show.

You come downstairs to find Jungkook in a long sleeved shirt and cargo swim trunks. The two of you could not be more opposite.

You make eye contact with Jungkook, and for a split second, you swear you see his eyes travel down your body. But then, his good boy smile returns. “Hey. Ready to go?”

The pool party is so noisy you can hear it several houses down, and it doesn’t take long for you to step past the doors of your cousin’s vacation house and get into the chaos. 

“Y/N!” Lena squeals. She gives you a tight hug. “And you must be Jungkook! I’m Lena, nice to meet you!” She beams.

Behind you, Jungkook gives her a tight smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You quickly get busy talking with your cousin’s friends, catching up after a long time. But all the while, you watch Jungkook in your peripheral — you see him make small talk with a few people, but mostly he stays inside the house, away from the pool. 

“Here, have a drink!” Lena yells in your ear over the noise.

You throw back the drink in the red solo cup, a sickly sweet mesh of vodka and punch. The music blares louder, and you see a girl go up to Jungkook down the hall. She leans in to say something to him, and to your disappointment, he leans in to talk back to her. She walks away a moment later with a smile on her face, and you feel unnecessary jealousy creep into you.

Oh, so he does know how to treat women like he’s actually into them.

You busy yourself in a round of beer pong, not really interested in the people nor the game, but the feeling of Jungkook’s eyes lingering on you as you throw back drink after drink.

“Hey,” An unknown voice whispers in your ear. You look up to see a blond man, one you’ve never met before. He’s handsome, but your gut tells you something isn’t quite right. “Wanna head upstairs?”

You open your mouth to answer, alcohol clouding your brain. But then, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap tight around your centre and pull you backwards against a firm chest. “She’s with me, actually.” Jungkook’s deep voice rumbles in his chest, reverberating against your back. Self-control now gone, you shiver.

You watch the blond give Jungkook a dirty look then walk off. You can’t lie — that was sexy as hell, but you don’t get why Jungkook would do all this for you. “Jungkook?” You ask. 

Jungkook lets go of you. You follow him silently, away from the noise near the pool table and to a quieter area of the yard.  

“Hey, Jungkook?” You ask, your words slightly slurred due to the alcohol. 

He turns around and looks at you. “Yes?”

You look down at your feet. “You know this isn’t real, right?”

Jungkook frowns. “What?”

“I mean—” You gesture backwards to the party. “All of this. It’s just a formality. What I’m saying is you don’t need to pretend to be all gentlemanly. I mean, I know what men are like. You don’t have to fake it, it’s not like I’ll tell on you if you get drunk or hookup with a girl on your vacation.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a moment. “...Got it.” He says, turning away. You look up at him, catching his tightly clenched jaw and angry expression. “So you want me to be like that asshole.”

“Jungkook—” You call out to him, following him as he walks towards the house again. Suddenly, you roll your ankle. “Fuck!” You yell as you fall into the pool. Caught off guard, you splutter. 

Once again, that same pair of strong hands pulls you in close, dragging you up for air.

“You’re a real handful, you know?” Jungkook mutters, pulling you in against his chest. You stare at him, shocked at how different he looks now. His hair is soaking wet, pushed back from his forehead. His white button up is now see-through from the water, and you can see the distinct black outline of tattoos along his upper chest and his right arm. You even think you see piercing holes along his ears. 

What?

You let him pull you out of the water, blushing hard. You hear your cousin fussing over you nearby, but all you can look at is Jungkook. 

Jungkook unbuttons his wet shirt and tosses it aside, accepting a dry towel from someone nearby. You swallow. A six pack and a sleeve tat is not what you were expecting from nerdy Jeon Jungkook.

“I’m going.” You whisper to Lena, getting up. You need to get your head straight.

You go home alone, both from embarrassment and also from how flustered you are by Jeon Jungkook. You strip off your wet clothes and sink into bed, needing a nap to get your head sorted.

A knock on your door wakes you up a couple hours later. 

You groan, sitting up. It’s darker now, close to sunset. 

Jungkook stands in your doorway, looking like his usual self again. A button up shirt and his hair down in his face. He makes the man you saw hours ago look like an illusion.

“Can we talk?” Jungkook asks, sounding nervous. 

You nod, and Jungkook comes over, sitting on the edge of your bed. He sighs. “I admit I was being childish earlier. I didn’t mean to startle you enough that you slipped into the pool. How do you feel now?”

You shrug. “Okay.” 

Jungkook’s eyes trail down for a second, then his hand snakes out. He pulls up the covers in front of your chest, covering your exposed cleavage for you. You blush. A man has never shown that much consideration for you. 

“But I meant what I said earlier.” You continue, putting your hand over his. Jungkook looks down at your hands, then at you. “This is all just for show. You know as well as I do why our parents want us to get married.”

Jungkook bites his lower lip, then looks away. He mutters something. 

“What?” You ask. He says nothing. You frown. “Jungkook, what did you say?”

“I said, that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.” Jungkook says, startling you with the fierce look in his eyes. “If we’re here together for the weekend, obviously I don’t want some greasy dude putting his hands all over you. I wanna keep you safe, that’s all.”

You blush, biting your lower lip. “...Then do it.”

Jungkook frowns. “Do what?”

“Put your hands all over me.” You pull the blanket down, putting Jungkook’s big hand flat against your chest bone. 

Jungkook looks at you, then at his hand against your chest, then sighs. Then, without a second’s hesitation, he tugs you into the fiercest kiss you’ve had in a long time.

You let him pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. You kiss for a long time, then tug at his shirt collar to demand he take it off.

Jungkook tips his head back, letting out an airy laugh.

You frown at him. “What?”

Jungkook looks up at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “You don’t really think this is how it’s gonna go, do you, babe?”

Jungkook’s hands trail down to your hips, his thumbs pushing in against your pubic bone. You gasp. He smirks. “Do you think I’m a pushover?”

“N-No?” You ask, confused. You are shocked at Jungkook’s confidence, his complete flip in personality.

“Being nice to women isn’t the same as not knowing what I’m doing in the bedroom baby.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. You shiver. “Familiar with the colour system, babe?”

Your eyes widen. “No way.”

Jungkook lets out another airy laugh. “Try me.”

“G-Green for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop.”

Jungkook hums, eyes darkening. “And what’s yours, babe?”

“G-Green, sir.” 

Jungkook lifts you up by the backs of your thighs, bouncing you slightly. You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist. “S-Sir.” You whimper.

Jungkook kisses you hard. “Fucking finally.” He hisses. “Been waiting to get my hands on you.”

You let him lay you down against the bed in just your swimwear, pinning your hands above your head. He kisses along your neck, then down your collarbone. He chuckles against your skin as you whine and writhe to no avail. 

“You have no idea how much I hated seeing those fuckboys eyeing you.” Jungkook says, kissing down your stomach and your hips. You thrust up and he holds you down with ease, leaving small marks along your pubic bone. You watch as he leaves marks along your thighs, too. Then, in complete contrast to everything else he’s done so far, Jungkook lightly kisses you over your panties.

You shiver. Oh he’s going to ruin you.

“Up.” He orders, and you obey. Jungkook unbuckles his pants, bringing out his thick member. “Come here, babe.” He orders with a playful smirk, and you’d be damned if you didn’t listen.

You lay down, taking his cock in your hand and licking up and down. You glance up at him every now and then, making him groan. You’re doing good, you know you are. And from the look Jungkook is giving you, you’ll be rewarded for it soon enough. 

"Wow you look a lot better like that. Maybe it's because your annoying mouth is shut for once." You whine at his mean words but Jungkook chuckles. He cards his hands through your hair and brushes it back from your face. "Don't whine baby, I know you like it. I'll reward you soon enough."

“On your front, babe.” Jungkook orders once he feels good enough. You let him reposition you, lifting your hips to let him place a pillow under your hips. You hear him humming faintly, as if he’s just going about his day to day activities. But contrary to his humming are his deft fingers, which pull down your swim bottoms in one go. “Beautiful.” Jungkook compliments, unsnapping your bra with one hand.

You crane your head back, letting him kiss along the crook of your neck and down your back. “S-Sir.”

“Be patient, babe.” Jungkook warns you. “I said I’ll reward you, didn’t I?”

You whine, but stop as soon as you feel his hard member line up against your entrance. It slides up and down between your folds and then—

Then repeats. You wiggle your hips. Jungkook chuckles. His arm comes around your middle, pulling you up into a half-sitting position. “What? Want me?”

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You beg, but Jungkook has other plans. 

“Hmm. Too bad I don’t have to listen to you.” Jungkook teases, continuing to run his member up and down, teasing your entrance. Then, when you’re least expecting it, he slides all the way into you, hard.

You clench around him immediately, and he hisses under his breath. “That’s it.” He praises you, thrusting into you hard while holding you up against him. You moan, hands down against the pillow. “You’ve been testing my patience all fucking day, babe. Looking all cute when you talk, dressing up all pretty. It’s so obvious you wanted me from the start.”

You whine. “Y-You knew?”

Jungkook growls in your ear. “Of course. I wanted to see how long it would take before you begged me. But instead you tried getting my attention with another fucking man.”

“B-But you talked to a girl too!” You try to argue between pants. 

Jungkook chuckles. “I told her I wasn’t interested because I had a girl. A sweet girl that begs me to fuck her.”

You whimper, feeling your orgasm rising. “P-Please!” You cry out.

Jungkook’s hand snakes between your thighs, rubbing your clit for you. “Come, baby.” He lets you, his own hips picking up. 

You come face down on the bed, ass up and pressed against your dom. You feel him come inside you, and you both sigh, relaxing at last.

After a long cuddle session and many sweet nothings muttered, Jungkook carries you to the bathroom where he helps you into the shower.

You let him clean you up and dress you, giving you sweet kisses and praise all the while.

“By the way, I hear there’s another party happening tomorrow. Since we’re here for the weekend anyway, we’re going.”

Jungkook laughs. “I hate parties. I’m not going.”

You pout. Jungkook lifts a brow. “Are you always this fucking cute?”

You smirk. “You’d have to marry me to find out.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, giving you a smirk. “What am I, a pushover?”

.

.

.

As always, thanks for reading!

Navi