#Marcia the woman you are

[doodoocumfart]

Cant stop thinking abt Marcia. about the wake and the funeral, how gross everyone treated her from start to bitter end. And she went out of her way to be kind to shiv in her very last scene, and while she is so WOW for taking the high road…..that would NOT have been me.

But I guess that hurt shiv the most lmao. she was fully braced for some cutting remark and Marcia doesn’t give it to her. Cuz Marcia is done. Shiv cannot comprehend why she chooses to be gentle and empathetic for once because she is so full of resentment and she assumes Marcia is the same. She expects Marcia to be an enemy, it’s easy. It’s something that’s safe and it’s that mentality her own father leans into to provide false loyalty in the episode vaulter. But Marcia only sees her as a broken sad child forever chasing a man whose approval was on a whim. She isn’t even worth contempt. And shiv doesn’t know if she should be angry sad or confused.

#Marcia the woman you are #she isn’t perfect but when ppl act like she was crazy for being hostile to shiv I’m blowing you up #shiv irreversibly and illegally violated her privacy and personhood by episode 3 it was never gonna be good between them #Mfw when hatecriming ur step mom kinda causes a rift lmao #and YET #she sees how broken shiv is and she reaches out in the end #Marcia being called cold blooded will never sit right w me #she is survivor sure #ruthless sure #but she has more empathy in her pinky than any roy has in every cell in their body combined #it’s so gross when ppl demand this endless grace from Marcia for a woman who literally wouldn’t care if she dropped dead tomorrow #go to actual hell #‘​‘actually shiv had every right to be suspisocous’’ no she didn’t the narrative quite literally constantly insists she doesn’t

[divorcedtom]

4x01 / 4x04

#do NOT look like you take the subway around someone who has married into roy money #especially if you're the other woman #marcia roy #tom wambsgans #succession gifs #succession #this is so funny because no one calls it the subway #but they are that far removed i guess #my gifs

[anitalianfrie]

girl pecco in the joan of arc zendaya look from the met gala some years back?

EYE would dress her in that... But I fear she wouldn't wear it, at least in the first years, because she's told by everybody around her (uccio) that she should cater more to the male gaze... Smile more, be more likable, more mellow, more feminine... and there's nothing that caters less towards men than a strong woman in a chainmail. But I think she would wear it in like 2023 after winning the second championship when she's more confident in herself

#also she's the first woman in motogp after vale and marcia and vale was allowed to look like a man because of how she looked and who she was #and marcia always dressed hyper feminine so she was fine on that regard #so what about Pecca who is feminine but not *hyper*? Who sometimes likes to look more androgynous? What about her? #c'è posta per me #girl!pecco #motogp #Thank you anon for allowing me going crazy over girl riders <3

[sexynetra]

I know this account has become a Marcia Stan account but yknow what I am not sorry because??? Look at her???

#first off Reese on the side has me in STITCHES #I have a friend who sees her somewhat regularly and every time she tells me about Reese I grow more and more enamored #Reese I shall see you in all your mediocre white woman glory #someday #but OOD Marcia is serving??? #like why are they on stage.m #I know they were watching the show bc they posted a video of Hanukah (loml) #but like did they just drag them on stage #with a plush dog #they ate no crumbs tho #keep on slaying marshie #also if y’all aren’t stnaning Reese and Hanukah get your shit together #I tell every person I see about Hanukah Lewinsky you cannot escape her if you are around me #I may live on the ppposite coast but that’s my girl #drag race #rpdr #RuPaul’s drag race #Marcia #marcia x3 #marcia marcia marcia #Reese havoc

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

rewatching succession from the beginning has me mulling a lot over logan/marcia roman/gerri parallels, hmmmmmm

#too lazy to say more right now but maybe someday I’ll get into it! #the idea of having a woman who is a true ride or die partner #and is that too emasculating? to have a woman who shows up for you that hard and expects you to do the same for her? #marcia saw logan at his weakest and i think she may very well be the only reason he recovered as much as he did #and it seems like he couldn’t bear that once he was well again #like it was too humiliating to have been known so intimately #and idk i think that’s got a lot of thematic overlap with roman and gerri’s estrangement #especially after logan dies and roman tries to be possessed by him #and i think roman was comfortable with being sort of subservient to gerri and maybe that’s part of what squicked logan so much about it #idk much to ponder! #dollsome's deep thoughts #succession

[catilinas]

tfw your last words in the play are low-key in the format of an epitaph

#thinking abt the highschool production of julius caesar where This scene got to me the post. in the whole play #possibly because iirc portia’s ‘i grant i am a woman’ lines that mention cato were cut or modified? #bcs brutus was Also a woman so. they didn’t make as much sense. and idk if brutus’ cato namedrop was in there either #but they DID keep this scene and like young cato just came on full of desperate anger. yelled this and then died #and You The Audience are like. who the fuck was THAT. idk if the og audiences of jc would be more familiar with who cato the younger was #but nowadays. probably most people Do Not Know. which makes young cato’s attempt to embed that memory of cato and himself into the scene of #his death super extra tragic because you get the name!!! but none of what it Means #like an inflection of pompey’s ghost of a great name. #wait fuck this is just the word that causes death’s defeat again #the knowledge of the possibility of words to memorialise standing in place of the knowledge of what they actually memorialise #ANYWAY. i think it’s extra interesting that young cato is talking like a tombstone when MARCIA in pharsalia book 2 Also does that #when her argument for the Goth Anti-Wedding is that she has already picked out matching tombstones for herself and cato #and she was of course young cato’s stepmother!!!!!! #i think all of this should have been in the body of the post. whoops. #wait also. insane that he says we will proclaim his own name and then. doesn’t. ok sure he has the same name as his father #but he frames it as his father’s name and not his own. hrgh. this is soooooo lucancore #julius caesar #cato the youngest #beeps

[nativehueofresolution]

homophobic shiv memes aside, i do think there is actually something interesting about how shiv interacts with her brothers' sexuality/implied queerness. with roman, she seized on his sexuality as potential weakness, painting him as a sexual deviant to logan and seemingly being the one to reveal to logan that roman has had sexual interactions with men as an attempt to bolster her status and gain leverage ('i mean i think it's a potential problem. there's issues, you know? everyone says that he used to get jerked off by his personal trainer, and now there's this gerri thing... it's a, it's a track record you know?'). she also later uses their father's disgust with roman to try to convince her brother to go against their dad ('rome, you know dad is never going to choose you, because he thinks there's something wrong with you' --an ambiguously worded line but one i think in the context of what had just happened prior to that scene where logan literally asked roman 'are you scared of pussy, son?' during their last conversation, this makes the most sense as a reference to his sexuality).

she also just straight up uses the fact that he Does Not Fuck to be mean when she's annoyed with roman ('you can't hide under the covers with mommy... someday you know you're gonna have to actually fuck something.' a remark that connor and arguably kendall -depending on how sincere you think his comments to shiv are - immediately clock as being over the line, while shiv plays coy and pretends to not understand why roman's upset). it's a vulnerability for her to exploit. (though it's also interesting to note her success with this tactic is limited. logan is furious with roman, but he still brushes shiv off after she outs roman. roman's queerness may disqualify him, but it doesn't change the fact shiv is a woman and so was never a real option to start with.)

the possibility of kendall's queerness, on the other hand, seems more to strike her as a threat, the most obvious example being her already infamous face during the 'you kiss guys on molly' scene. regardless of how much you want to read that as a confirmation of a relationship between kendall and stewy (and i personally am inclined to take it as such), the basic facts are that kendall is attempting to cozy up to stewy and specifically bringing up his attraction to men on molly as something that makes stewy mundane rather than an edgelord, and shiv shows visible discomfort at kendall's blasé attitude and his intimacy with stewy. the director mark mylod has pointed to the scene in particular during multiple interviews as one of the earliest signs of shiv's wobbling, because she sees upfront the closeness between kendall and stewy and how she 'could be sidelined by that relationship'.

it's interesting that this comes after the past few episodes spotlighted kendall's relationship with nate, shiv's ex and the guy who - apart from stewy and possibly the waiter - has the most gay subtext with kendall. in 4x08, the fact that kendall was close enough to nate that he would call him to double check shiv's story and that nate, either on purpose or unknowingly, revealed shiv was lying, ended up destroying her only chance of staving off the mencken call. while the scene itself has nothing to do with sexuality, shiv's goals were undermined because of an existing relationship between kendall and nate. her relationships as a sister and a lover did not give her enough sway to stop the interaction from playing out as it did. as the lone female, shiv is constantly shut out by the homosocial spaces that exist in the business world that she cannot access (we see kendall and roman do business deals in the men's room more than once). still, we have seen with nate in particular shiv is sometimes able to use her sexual appeal to try and achieve her goals (flirting with nate to try and get him to do oppo research on marcia for example), even if it is not her preferred way to deal with things. but if kendall is also able to attract men, this is another way in which he's competing with her, and one she feels poised to lose at because kendall already has access to men in a way she can't in their spheres, and she's seen over and over the bond between men prioritized above all else. she's already inclined to think kendall will sideline her for a man he wants to keep on his good side - she just lived through roman as co-ceo - and now during their meeting with stewy she sees kendall show an easy familiarity with stewy's sexual history with men that he uses to butter him up. even if she isn't taking that to mean they've personally slept together (and i think she is), she's being reminded that kendall is someone who can form intimate relationships with other men (in contrast to roman, who is kind of repressed about it) and use that to his advantage, which undercuts her already limited influence. it's just the eternal boys club taken to another level.

#like roman is a tool or a joke but kendall is a threat to her. even in this context. thinky thoughts! #succession #shiv roy #kendall roy #roman roy #kaitlin speaks

[rhaenyslay]

A New Prince

Part One: 'A Rose Between Thorns'

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Aemond Targaryen x OC!Niece!Reader

Summary: Rhaenyra gives birth to her fourth child, a son - much to Aelora's annoyance.

Warnings: Descriptions of childbirth (non-graphic), swearing.

Word Count: 2.7 K

A/N: There's no direct Aemond/Aelora interaction in this one, but don't worry, the next one will be full of it - I'll make up for it I #promise.

༻❁༺ 117 AC, AELORA’S CHAMBERS

The morning birds chirp happily as the sun rises warmly over the Keep’s turrets and gardens, hills and courtyards, and a robin perches itself happily on the young princess’s open windowsill. She smiles at the small creature fondly, gently making her way over to the window as she arises from the edge of her bed, stepping down from the dais it sits on, giggling to herself for a moment at the tickly feeling of the cold and slightly rough stone floors of her chambers against her bare feet. She sits herself on the stool just beside the windowsill.

“Hello, little bird.” She whispers with another airy giggle, causing the robin to cock its head to the side and ‘teek’, hopping closer to her hand that has since outstretched very tentatively.

There are a few seeds that remain on the windowsill from where she had fed some of the morning birds only a few days before - she nudges them towards the robin, who eagerly takes them with another ‘teek’. The robin hops forward once more, closer still to her outstretched hand, but is interrupted when the door to her chambers all but swing open.

“Mother and Father want us in the gardens for breakfast.”

The little robin quickly disembarks with a final ‘teek’, leaving Aelora to sigh softly, “Jace, what is it about knocking you find so impossible?”

Her younger brother shrugs, “What is it about not being annoying you find so impossible?” The young boy retorts with a teasing shake of his head, resulting in an eyeroll from the princess.

She stands from the stool, straightening out her chemise, “I suppose they’ll want us dressed and ready?”

Jacaerys nods, “Yes.” He seems to hesitate a moment, a coy smile on his face as he lingers in the doorway.

Suspicious, Aelora narrows her eyes slightly, “What?”

“Can I play with Moonfyre today?” Jacaerys asks.

Aelora pouts, lifting her chin up and looking away slightly, “No, you wouldn’t let me see Vermax last sennight.”

Jacaerys frowns, “Because you were mean to me!”

“Well, you can’t see Moonfyre today.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so!”

“Children, children…” Septa Marcia says as she strolls into Aelora’s chambers, a couple of handmaidens following behind her. The Septa - assigned to Aelora at the recommendation of Queen Alicent due to her reverence within the Faith and notable students past - was a warm woman in her early-mid 50s, her face round and youthful despite her age, with sage green eyes and what was once fiery red hair now greying and partially concealed by her hood. The daughter of a Tully and a Dornish man, Septa Marcia holds a warmth to both her appearance and her demeanour that Aelora has found most comforting on many occasions of emotional distress yet also inviting enough to weave giggles and smiles among it all, “Bickering still? You have another brother on the way soon, what example are you setting, hm?”

“Or a sister.” Aelora adds as one of the handmaidens begins to unlace her chemise, the other unplating her hair.

“Or a sister.” Septa Marcia nods and adds with a playful eye roll to Jacaerys, who giggles. She gently taps the prince’s shoulder, “Run along, my prince,” she says to him softly, “your sister shall join you shortly.”

Jacaerys nods and promptly leaves.

“Septa Marcia?”

“Yes, princess?”

“What’s your favourite colour?” Asks the seven-year-old girl, stepping out of her chemise.

The Septa laughs softly, “My favourite colour?”

Aelora nods.

“Well,” she thinks, “Blue, I would say,” the Septa muses, “a nice sapphire blue. Why do you ask?”

“Mother is having some more dresses sewn for me but I can’t decide on any colours.” Aelora sighs, this predicament being the main concern of her sweet little world, “There’s too many!”

Septa Marcia laughs once more, sitting on the stool Aelora had risen from just prior to her entry, “Oh, what an annoyance indeed.”

The handmaidens slip on a new chemise and follow it with a comfortable but equally beautiful purple gown - the sleeves puffed ever so slightly and the skirts loose, both of which provide a reprieve from the warmth of the summer sun. The laces are tied as the little princess continues to speak, “I like to have lots of different colours.” She says, looking at the fabrics of her dress, at the golden embellishments, “It makes me feel like a rainbow!”

“And a very pretty rainbow at that.” One of the handmaidens, Jana, comments with a smile.

Aelora smiles at the praise and compliment while they finish dressing her, now moving onto her hair, “Can I only have a little bit braided?” She asks, looking over her shoulder at the other handmaiden, Malia, as she feels her hair being brushed, “Like Princess Helaena, I would like to match with her.” Malia nods and continues to brush the princess’s hair.

“Helaena and I are getting matching dresses.” Aelora happily tells Septa Marcia, her legs swinging back and forth from where she sits at the vanity, “Hers is going to be pink and mine is going to be blue, but they will look the same.”

“You will both look very pretty, I’m sure.” The Septa says with a smile, beginning to arrange the embroidery for when Aelora returns from breaking her fast.

“I hope so, the Queen said that we c-”

For the second time that morning, Aelora’s chambers are interrupted by a brief knock, only for it to open all the same, revealing Ser Criston Cole, “The Princess Rhaenyra has entered her labours.” He announces, slightly out of breath, clearly having rushed, “I have been asked to escort the princess to be with her brothers.”

Aelora’s head whips towards Ser Criston, “She has? The baby is coming? Little sister, little sister!” She beams excitedly, doing a little happy dance before Septa Marcia tuts and promptly places a hand on her shoulder to stop her. 

The handmaidens and Ser Criston, however, smile. “Come, little one.” Ser Criston says to the young princess, “We can get something to eat on the way - some lemon cakes, perhaps?”

She instantly lights up and nods her head, making her way over to him, “Can we get one for mother too?”

“I’m sure she would appreciate that, princess.”

༻❁༺ 117 AC, ALICENT’S CHAMBERS

Rhaenyra, weakened and burning with a tired fury, holds the newborn babe close to her chest as Laenor holds her arm, aiding her bloodied and weary steps towards the Queen’s apartments. She can still feel the oppressive heat at her core and head as she recoils at the way her silver tresses cling to the exposed and hot skin of her neck and forehead, the burn in her legs, the roughness of her dress against her skin - yet she perseveres, repressing a growl with the tensing of her jaw as she sees Alicent - stood upon her dais as a handmaiden checks her gown, chin up and poised - turn to look at her as if she wasn’t the reason for her being here.

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent begins, voice conveying a tone of shock and concern, yet her eyes convey differently, “you should be resting after your labours.”

“I have no doubt that you would prefer that, your Grace.” Rhaenyra responds, forcing a tense smile as she subtly masks the shaking in her arms as rocking the babe in her arms.

“You must sit.” Alicent graciously suggests, “Talia, fetch a cushion for the princess.”

“There’s no need.”

“Nonsense.”

Talia, a handmaiden, promptly grabs a pillow and places it down on the nearby seat. Alicent takes the opportunity to run her eyes over Rhaenyra and the babe, her brown eyes flittering over the babe as if in search of something, hands fidgeting a little nervously. The tension continues to thicken as Laenor helps Rhaenyra sit, only broken when the King enters with a wide smile.

“What happy news this morning.” He sighs and beams at his daughter happily.

“Indeed, your Grace.” Laenor replies, returning the smile.

“Where is he? Where is my grandson?”

Laenor gently takes the baby boy from Rhaenyra’s arms and hands him over to Viserys. Alicent smiles at her husband, but her eyes continue to search.

The King cradles the small babe proudly, ‘What a fine prince - sturdy, you will make a fierce knight… yes you will…”

The babe makes a few little noises, seemingly content in his Grandsire’s arms.

Alicent redirects her gaze back to Rhaenyra and Laenor, “Does the babe have a name yet?”

“Well, we haven’t sp-”

“Joffrey.”

Rhaenyra meets Laenor’s eyes with furrowed brows, looking up at him from where she sits. A pause follows. 

“He will be called Joffrey.” Laenor reasserts.

Alicent’s eyes narrow momentarily, almost fleetingly, “That’s an unusual name for a Valyrian.” She shifts her eyes to Rhaenyra.

The princess, still aching from her labours and now enduring the tension within the Queen’s chambers, manages a smile, casting her eyes down.

“I do believe he has his father’s nose.” Viserys, oblivious to the tension - as always - says, turning to look at Leanor, who promptly smiles and laughs softly, over his shoulder.

Alicent looks once more to Rhaenyra as Viserys turns away once more, a knowing look in her eyes. The princess diverts her gaze, as does Laenor. He clears his throat.

“If you don’t mind, your Grace, your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest.”

Viserys nods with a warm smile, “Of course.”

He hands Joffrey to Alicent - Rhaenyra watches with a tensed jaw and tightness in her chest as Alicent’s svelte hand brushes back the blanket that swaddles the babe, hearing Laenor’s muttering of “the hair…” as she does so. Alicent coos to the babe with a smile as she cradles him, rocking him in her arms and pacing the chambers. Rhaenyra’s eyes fix upon them, hardly noticing her father take her hand in his own.

“Well done, my girl.” He whispers fondly, “I do hope the labour was easy. Easier than it had been with Aelora, at least.”

She looks at him a moment before her head turns to Alicent and Joffrey once more, “I think I called the midwife a cunt…”

“Oh.”

They share a smile before embracing each other with a kiss to their cheeks - a genuine warmth spreading through her at the feeling of her father’s arms around her, momentarily easing the pain of her labours and the tensions ensnaring her.

A few paces away, Alicent has since handed Joffrey back to Laenor, “Do keep trying, Ser Laenor, sooner or later you may get one that looks like you.”

Laenor feels the burn in his chest, the tingle in his fingers as he turns to the side to suppress his anger, instead cradling Joffrey closer to him.

༻❁༺ 117 AC, RHAENYRA’S CHAMBERS

“...a big, scary dragon!”

“No! Not a dragon, I don’t want it to be a dragon.”

“Aelora, it has to be a dragon-”

“But they aren’t all scary - Moonfyre is nice.” “Moonfyre tried to eat Aegon the other day!”

“Well, then he shouldn’t have tried to touch her while she was eating!”

The siblings’ dispute is quickly silenced by the sight of their mother and father entering the room.

“Mother!” Jacaerys promptly jumps up from his seat on the stone floor, “Look!” He rushes over to the ornate, black pot among the cluttered table beside the princess, lifting the lid to reveal black dragon egg sat among hot orange embers.

“We chose an egg for the baby.” Lucerys announces proudly.

“You chose an egg for the baby.” Aelora mumbles with a pout, only just now standing from being sat on the floor, “You both went without telling me.”

Laenor gives her a sympathetic smile while Ser Harwin helps Rhaenyra sit down as she smiles at her sons, “That looks like the perfect one.” 

“Not everyday an egg leaves the dragonpit, princess, I thought it best to escort the lads.” Ser Harwin says, his deep, warm voice the perfect antidote for the tensions that were slowly leaving the princess’s body.

“Without me…” Aelora mumbles once more, making her way over to Laenor, silently hugging his waist and looking at the baby in his arms. Laenor kisses the top of her head gently and bends down a little to show her Joffrey better.

“Laenor and I thank you, Commander.” Rhaenyra sighs breathily as she smiles up at Ser Harwin.

“Another boy, I heard.” He adds, to which Rhaenyra smiles once more.

“Unfortunately.” Aelora sighs, her cheek against Laenor’s blue doublet.

Ser Harwin smirks at her, “You wished for a sister?”

Aelora nods, “I’m sick of boys… they’re stupid.”

“But you’re always with Aemond, and he’s a boy.” Jacaerys says teasingly, putting the lid back on the pot, “And you always go to the dragonpit with Aegon.”

“Aemond is a nice boy.” Aelora retorts, “He doesn’t steal my plums.”

“I did that once!”

“And Aegon teaches me cool tricks to do with Moonfyre.” She continues, “And he steals - I mean - gets us cakes.”

Rhaenyra, too tired to delve deeper into that, laughs loosely, as do Harwin and Laenor, “Well, a boy it is - little we can do about that.”

Aelora sighs dramatically before looking at the baby once more, smiling softly, “But he is very cute.”

“Indeed,” Laenor agrees with her and looks down at Joffrey, “What a fine knight you’re going to make, eh?”

Harwin’s eyes linger on Joffrey longingly, “Might I?”

Rhaenyra looks up at him and seems to relax further in her seat, “Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.”

Aelora’s nose scrunches up, “Joffrey? That’s not a very Valyrian name.”

Laenor sends her a look before nodding to his wife, “Of course.” He hands the baby to Harwin - he doesn’t miss the small glare Rhaenyra directs towards Aelora momentarily, clearly triggered deeper than the surface level of the words alone.

“Joffrey, is it?” Harwin hums, taking Joffrey into his arms - Laenor nodding in confirmation.

“Father, may I please hold Joffrey?” Lucerys asks Laenor, Jacaerys’s hand on his shoulder and his own hand reaching up to the baby, Jacaerys’s following.

Aelora nuzzles closer into her father’s waist, “Can I? I really want to - and mother said I could hold him first yesterday…”

“No, no, no…” Laenor, with a small smile, removes Aelora from his waist and gently pushes the boys’ arms away from Ser Harwin and the baby. “The dragonpit for you two, before they send out a search party.” He says to Luce and Jace, guiding them to the door, “And… somewhere with you.” He says to Aelora with a playful face. 

She giggles and allows him to push her towards the door, “But, father, I don’t want to go to my embroidery lesson… Helaena isn’t joining us today and the other girls are so boring!”

“I’m sure you will find something to do, sweetling.” Laenor kisses her head before turning to close the large double doors with a parting, respectful nod to Ser Harwin.

A moment of content and comfortable silence warms the chambers as Rhaenyra relaxes for the first time that morning, watching as Ser Harwin rocks Joffrey with an awe-filled gaze.

“Asleep in front of the Commander of the City Watch… terrible lack of respect.”

Rhaenyra laughs softly, “A certain insolence runs in the family, I’m afraid.”

‘Oh, I can tell…” He laughs too, gentle so as to not wake the baby, “Particularly with that little firecracker.” 

“Aelora? Oh, yes…” Rhaenyra’s smile falters momentarily, “Yes… all the beauty to attract a suitor when she comes of age, I’m sure, but none of the patience to keep one.”

Harwin scoffs in amusement, “Indeed, although the courtiers adore her; she’s been raised well - her comeliness can’t be denied.”

“Hm.” Rhaenyra hums in response, hands on her stomach as she feels the pain ease.

“A true princess, just like her mother.”

Rhaenyra smiles at the Commander, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest at his words. ༻❁

#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #x reader #fanfiction #aemond x you #hotd fanfic

[doodoocumfart]

If I helped save my husbands life and then taught him to walk again and then he cheated on me twice I’d kill him and his three shitty kids btw

#if anything Marcia is the nicest woman alive for not doing that #have you considered that

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 6. The Adults are Talking

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: Sugar finds her voice amongst the people who want to see her fail.

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Breeding kink, Sugar's parents are the worst and treat her like garbage, Sugar finally finds her voice and stands up to her father, Some angst, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 5.3K

A/N: And here we go, the chapter where Sugar and Joel finally face off with her parents. This does edge onto angst, as I really wanted to showcase just how Sugar's upbringing really affected her mental health, and how she overcomes it. I cried writing this chapter, because I know how it feels to have people in your life just waiting for you to fuck up, and it's something Sugar has had to deal with all of her life. Honestly, this chapter makes me nervous because I know you all are expecting all of the fluff and smut that Joel and Sugar should be having, but I promise this will probably be the only chapter with heavy stuff. It'll be smooth sailing after this!

"So, I heard an interesting rumor floating around the club lately."

"Good morning to you too, Mother," you mutter, keeping your eyes on the road. "Who's the poor unfortunate soul this time?"

There's a brief pause before your mom responds, her voice almost hesitant. "Well, darling, you know I usually don't pay attention to the ladies and their gossip, but-"

"Just tell me already, Mom!" you exclaim, turning into the office parking lot.

"Well," she starts, "I heard that Joel Miller has gotten himself a... what do you call them? A Sugar Baby? Marcia told me that Lenore from Neiman Marcus said they had-" she clears her throat, "sex," she whispers, "in the dressing room! How scandalous! I heard she's a pretty little young thing! I swear, if that was my daughter, I would die of embarrassment!"

You slam on the brakes suddenly, your eyes widening in shock. Someone honks behind you in response, but you can't pay it any mind. The blood rushes to your ears as you start to hyperventilate.

"Sugar? Are you there? Is it true? Have you noticed anything at work lately?" you hear your mother from across the line. "Hello?!"

You take a deep breath, pulling into the nearest empty stall. "I'm here, Mom," you say shakily, cutting the ignition and resting your head on the steering wheel.  

"Well, it's shameful, that sort of behavior," your mom continues, "It's a good thing your father and I raised you right!" she tsks, and you imagine her shaking her head in disgust as she inspects her nails. "Besides, I have nothing to worry about when it comes to you, baby."

That's what gets your attention. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, baby. That kind of behavior isn't something I would associate with you," she coos, "besides, the girl they said Joel was with was really pretty-"

"Are you implying that I'm not attractive enough for someone like Joel?" you ask incredulously, your hands gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. "What if that girl in the rumor was me, Mom? What then? Would you actually die from embarrassment?"

"... but it wasn't you, Sugar. I raised you better than that, no matter how pretty you could be. I mean, if you just weren't so plain, maybe I would believe that it was you that was in that dressing room with him, but those kinds of girls, baby, that ain't you-"

"Mom," you sigh, feeling the impending headache that usually accompanies conversations with her, "I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!" your mom sputters, "Don't forget about the dinner tonight!"

"What dinner?"

"Oh, don't tell me you forgot!" your mother exclaims, a hint of outrage in her voice. "It's our Ruby wedding anniversary! I sent you an invite. How could you forget? Your father is looking forward to seeing you. Now that you have your big girl job and live on your own, acting like we don't exist. You would think after paying for your education, you would be more grateful-"

"Fine, Mom, I'll be there! What time is it?" you cut her off, the tears already forming at the corner of your eyes. You don't want to be subjected to another one of her guilt trips, fully aware that she'll win, every time. "And I assume it'll be cocktail attire?"

"Oh, yes," your mother purrs, "At 6. I'll make sure the caterers add a place setting for you. Do you need to borrow anything of mine to wear? I'm not sure if you were able to shed those ten pounds I've been telling you to lose. I don't know if anything I have would fit those hips of yours-"

"Two."

"What was that, darling?" you take note of the hesitation in your mother's voice.

"Tell the caterers to put two more settings at the table, Mom."

"Why?" your mother asks, clearly in shock. "Sugar, are you seeing someone? Who is it? Is it someone we know?"

"I guess you'll have to wait to find out," you say, a hint of satisfaction in your tone. "See you at 6!" you say hurriedly, hanging up before she could pry further.  

"Fuck." You mutter, slamming your head against the steering wheel once more. "Fuck my life."

Groaning, you snatch up your phone and purse, slamming the door of your Tesla as you stride into the office. With a determined look etched on your face, you attempt to breeze past Connie, resolute in avoiding another interrogation as you navigate down the hall.

"Good morning, Sugar!" she chirps. "So, about yesterday-"

"Not now, Connie!" you mutter, briskly pushing past her, laser-focused on reaching Joel's office. He's already at his desk, his gaze intensely fixed on his iPad, an apple pencil dangling from his mouth as he reviews schematics. You slam his office door behind you, his eyes darting toward you as you drop your purse on the floor. You discard your blazer, shove his office chair back, and settle onto his lap. Burying your face into his neck, the tears you've been holding back start to flow earnestly from your eyes.

Joel's arms instinctively wrap around you, drawing you close as he gently pulls back to get a good look at your face. "Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asks, his face etched with genuine concern. "Did Connie corner you in the lounge again? I swear Tess gave her the warning of a lifetime yesterday-"

"Are you busy tonight?" you cut him off, gasping for air, the weight of anxiety from your mother's conversation finally sinking in. "I know this is really last minute, but my mother-"

"Baby," Joel repeats, his hands firm on your arms, steadying you. "Breathe. What happened?"

"They know, everyone in Austin knows about us," you admit with a sniffle. "My mother called, mentioning that her friends at the club were gossiping about you having a sugar baby, and I completely forgot it's my parents' wedding anniversary tonight. I might have told her to add another place setting for you..." you stammer, "... and now I have nothing to wear. I can't borrow anything from her because I didn't lose the ten pounds she asked me to"

"Easy, Sugar," Joel murmurs, his lips grazing your forehead as his hands trace up your arms, providing a soothing touch. "Start from the top," he suggests, leaning back in his chair and gently pulling you against his chest, his fingers rhythmically rubbing your back. "You spoke to your mother today, and she mentioned a rumor going around about us, right?"

"Lenore might have let slip to one of her clients about our... moment in the dressing room," you confess against his chest.

You feel him sigh deeply, the gentle rumble of his chest against your face. "If they only knew that wasn't the case," he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. "You know that, right? You're everything to me, baby. You ain't no sugar baby, not to me."

"I know, Joel," you reply with a tiny sob. "It doesn't mean it hurts any less, though. It's like they want to see us fail, see me fail."

Joel pulls you away again, a serious look in his eyes. "Are you ashamed of this? of us? Do you see yourself as how they see you? Do you think I care what those old bitches say about me?"

You shake your head frantically. "No, Joel-"

"No one gave a damn about my life before all of this," he gestures toward his office, taking your hand in his, "and now that I finally have some worth in their eyes, it's like... I'm cattle being led to slaughter. I'll never get used to it."

"I grew up surrounded by that shit my entire life," you whisper sadly. "Every move I made was up for debate – what clothes I wore, who I decided to bring into my life. It was always dissected and analyzed as if everything I did could have a double meaning. I hated it, this constant scrutiny. I always had to be 'good,' never step out of line, and always know my place."

"Is that why you always felt the need to hide yourself all the time?"

"It's what made things easier, honestly." You fiddle with the button of his flannel. "I hated the attention, I hated that my mother would go into my closet every day and make sure I wore certain things that wouldn't embarrass her, that she would only feed me rabbit food so I wouldn't 'let myself go'. She came from nothing, you know? She was my father's secretary, getting swept away with his money and his connections. She was in my place, once. You would think that she would show me mercy." You laugh to yourself, bitterly. "I was always an embarrassment in my parent's eyes, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not driven enough. I worked my ass off, and they still treat me like they did when I was a kid. "

"Yet, here we are," Joel murmurs, a gentle understanding in his eyes as he reaches to caress your cheek. "You've overcome so much, and you're not defined by their standards. You're your own person, and you've earned your worth on your own terms."

You lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his hand. "I never thought I'd find someone who sees past all that, someone who appreciates me for who I am. Crazy family and all."

Joel smiles tenderly. "Well, you have, and I see a remarkable person in front of me. The past is just that – the past. We're building our own story now, and you're not defined by anyone else's expectations."

You smile sadly at Joel. "I hate thinking about this, about my parents. It always puts me in a terrible mood. Can we talk about something else, please?"

"What do you need me to do, baby?" Joel breathes, "Do you want me to help you forget?" He helps you onto your feet, leaning your body against the edge of his desk. He pushes the hem of your dress up your thighs, the edge of your stockings being held by a garter exposed as your breath hitches on your throat. "Fucking exquisite," he says, his lips kissing your thigh. "What do you need?" he repeats, almost begging.   

"I need you to fuck the pain away, Joel," you whisper, spreading your legs further. "Help me forget, please," you beg, your back arching as his hands travel up beneath the fabric of your dress. His fingers make their way up to your core, and his fingertips graze the gusset of your thong, adding pressure as he traces along your slit through the wet fabric. Your legs start to shake as his finger slips beneath the fabric, the edge of his fingertips probing at your entrance. Joel hums in satisfaction. He slowly inches his fingers into you. "Do you think you can come, just like this?"

"Yes," you moan, hitching your leg higher as you place your foot on his desk chair. He slides his fingers into you, the squelch of your wetness echoing throughout his office walls as he prods into you, his eyes dark as he watches his fingers being swallowed whole in your pussy. "Fuck Joel, just like that-"

"Should we check something off from my list?" he asks, moving his fingers away from your pussy as you whine from the loss of sensation, putting the glistening digits into his mouth, savoring your taste.  

You nod eagerly. "Yes, Joel. Please-"

"Turn around for me, Sugar," he softly commands. "... and grab onto something." You oblige, slowly turning so you are facing his desk, his hands pushing your back so your chest is resting on its surface. Your hands grab onto the edge of it, pushing your ass higher as he lifts the hem of your dress, exposing your ass. You swear you can imagine his smirk as his hands travel up the globes of your asscheeks, his grasp harsh, squeezing the plumpness of it. He grips your thighs and spreads them wider, lifting your ass to be level with his cock. He starts to grind into your core, your body trembling in his wake.  

He hooks his fingers through the elastic edge of your panties, ripping it off your hips. You turn your head to face him, watching as he pockets the scrap of lace into his back pocket. "You won't be needing this," he whispers, and you watch as he unzips his jeans, pushing it down along with his boxer briefs, his cock swollen and leaking at the tip. You gasp at the sight, rolling your bottom lip against your teeth. He rubs his erection through your folds, notching the tip of your entrance. "I'm gonna need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me, Sugar?"

He slides in before you can reply, and your voice gets caught in your throat, the feeling of him inside of you so delicious you moan out in pleasure. He starts to fuck you slowly, deeply. "Fuck Joel, just like that-"

"Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good, so fucking tight!" he harshly grabs onto your hips as he begins to cant his hips against yours, the angle he set hitting you just right. The entire desk starts to shake as he pounds into you, and you have half of a mind to say something, but Joel continues his pace, his head thrown back, eyes closed.  Thank god for the carpet, you think to yourself.  

He gathers your hair, pulling your body towards his as he continues to thrust harshly into you. "You're so good like this, baby. So fucking good for me, right Sugar?" he rips your dress from the front, the buttons flying throughout his office, pulling your breasts from the cups of your bra. He's pumping into you relentlessly, his mouth latching onto your neck. He grabs your breasts, kneading and squeezing. "One of these days you'll let me fuck these," he breathes in your ear.

"Joel, my dress!" you exclaim. "I can't walk around the office with my tits out!"

"We're going shopping after this, baby, don't you worry. You can wear the shirt off my back for all I care, gonna have to teach Lenore a lesson for having a big fucking mouth-"

"Can we not talk about another woman when you're balls deep inside of me?" you whine, meeting his thrusts as you pull on his shirt, trying to keep your moans as silent as possible, not wanting the entire office to hear Joel railing you into oblivion. "Fuck Joel, can you fuck me harder?"

Joel halts, pressing his cock deep inside, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. He reaches behind him, rolling his desk chair towards him to sit as he pulls you onto his lap, impaling you. "You're gonna have to be real quiet for me, okay baby?" he whispers against your throat. "We shouldn't be doing this, but I can't fucking get enough of you. Want to claim you on every fucking inch of this office, do you want that, baby? for me to fuck you on every single surface of this office?"

"Yes!" you scream, hopping on Joel's cock as he thrusts up into you, the position allowing you to feel all of him. "Fuck Joel, I feel so fucking full, how are you this massive? Fuck-"

"I'm going to fill you up, make you take all of my cum, make you mine completely. Remember when I sang you that song all those years ago? I looked into your eyes and swore I saw my future children in your eyes, fuck, It's all I've thought about," he groans, and it stirs something deep inside of you, the thought of your children, with Joel's brown eyes and smile, running around in the house, laughing, playing, living a life you were denied as a child. "Are you going to be the mother of my children?"

"Yes! Yes, fucking fill me up, make me yours, I can take it, I can take it! Fuck a baby into me, baby, I'll be so good, so so good-"

Joel's hand goes to your clit, his fingers rough against the nub, rubbing it furiously as you chase your release. "Then fucking come for me, Sugar," he commands. Come for me on my cock and I'll give you the entire fucking world-" He covers your mouth with his hands, his thrusts slow and deep as you fall apart completely. He braces your hands on the edge of the desk as he kicks his chair backward, pounding into you as he chases his release, his face in your neck as he sucks on your pulse point. "You think it'll take this time? You gonna give me baby?"

"Yes! Fill me up, I want all of it!"

Joel groans at that, thrusting into you once more as he falls apart, coming into you deep. You feel his cum fill you so much to the point that it starts to leak out of you. Joel keeps himself inside, panting heavily against your neck. "Fuck baby, I love you so fucking much." He kisses your cheek, pulling himself out of you slowly as he slumps onto his chair once more, his head thrown back in exhaustion. He unbuttons his flannel, throwing it towards you. "Put this on," he says, shrugging his jacket on as you straighten yourself. You raise your eyebrows at him as you button on his shirt, drowning in it. Joel gives you a wry smile. "Cancel all of your appointments, we're going shopping."

"Oh yeah? Just drop work, just like that?"

"Yeah," he replies nonchalantly. "I think it's time we visit our good friend Lenore. Have a little chat."

"Are you ready?" you nervously ask Joel as the two of you stand at the front door. "We can always turn around, say that I'm sick or something-" You fiddle with the hem of your dress, straightening yourself. "Don't you think this dress is a little much?" you ask absentmindedly.

"I think the real question is if you're ready, baby," he replies, a small reassuring smile on his face. "I've been telling you that I've been wanting to scream from the rooftops, yelling that you're mine-"

"I am yours like you are mine." You smile, placing your hands on his chest as you pull him towards you, his lips meeting yours. "I've never been so sure in my life, Joel. I think it's time we stop fucking around, right?"

"I've been yours since the first day I saw you, I was a goner-" he leans in for another kiss as you greedily accept, kissing him deeper, and deeper, and his hands travel lower, and lower, and your hands travel higher, and higher, until they reach the hair at the nape of his neck, and you're pulling, pulling, pulling, getting lost in his embrace. How can something that feels so good and so pure be so terrible to those around you?

"Sugar?!" Your mother's surprised voice slices through the air like a warning shot, abruptly shattering the enchantment between you and Joel. "Mr. Miller?!?" Her exclamation hangs in the tense moment, her gaping mouth and contorted expression revealing a mix of shock and embarrassment. "What on earth is going on here?"

"Mom, I-" you stammer, clearly struggling for words.

"Ma'am," Joel interjects, cutting through the tension. He gracefully presents her with the bouquet that rests on the bench, the vivid orange lilies contrasting against the soft pink of the Rhododendrons he had chosen at the florist. "How do you say 'Fuck you, I've won?'" he whispers with a smirk to the florist while sliding his black Amex across the counter. The resulting display is a beautiful arrangement, yet it carries an unmistakably direct message – as if declaring, "I love and desire your daughter, but I loathe you, so stand the hell back." Joel continues, "It's been a long time; I see the roof is holding up nicely-"

"Yes, well," your mother chokes, hastily grabbing the bouquet from his outstretched hand. "These are beautiful, Mr. Miller-"

"Come on, we're past pleasantries. Call me Joel," he smirks. "Happy anniversary, by the way... and thanks for the invite. Sugar said you guys were talking about me earlier today, so she thought she could surprise you by bringing me along with her."

"Joel. Right," your mother mutters to herself. "I was just asking how she was getting along working with you since she's been so busy, she barely comes around now!" She clears her throat, straightening herself, and glances at you, her eyes darting to the tightness of your dress. "Sugar, baby, what a... beautiful dress you have there. Are you not cold with how short it is?"

Joel squeezes your hand in his, giving you a wink. "Doesn't she look stunning in Herve Leger? Lenore has a great eye, right?"

Your mother fidgets nervously, chuckling to herself. "Lenore at Neiman Marcus? Yes, yes, well... she certainly knows how to flatter the female figure. I wasn't aware you were a client of hers-"

"Well, I had to introduce her to Sugar, you know, considering she always takes good care of me and my girls," he muses, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. You could swear you see your mother gulp at the gesture, her gaze dropping to her nails as she struggles to formulate a response.

"Well, what are we doing out here? Come in, come in!" she says suddenly as if her role as a doting, perfect entertaining housewife finally reboots in her brain. "Sugar's father will be surprised to see you after all these years, you made quite a name for yourself with your multi-million business-"

"Yeah, we did okay, I expect that this government job that we're bidding on might just push us over a billion next year if all goes well." He smiles widely, putting his arm around your shoulder. "Shall we, Sugar?" 

You nod aimlessly, letting Joel gently guide you towards the dining room, the laughter of your parents' friends echoing through the foyer. Your body starts to shake slightly, the nervousness of facing your father gradually taking over.

"Stop shaking, baby. I'm right here, alright? I ain't gonna leave your side for a second, okay?" Joel whispers suddenly in your ear, pressing a reassuring kiss to your hair. You nod once more, tightening your grasp on Joel's hand, finding comfort in his presence.

"Everyone, you remember my daughter, Sugar?" your mother announces abruptly as you enter the dining room, her gaze immediately meeting your father's as she holds up the bouquet. "Joel bought us a lovely arrangement. I'm just going to find a vase. Why don't you sit by your father, baby?" A wave of judgmental eyes from your parents' friends descends upon both of you, and you can't ignore the audible gasps of shock that fill the suddenly quiet room.

"Joel Miller," your dad suddenly remarks, his eyes narrowing at your clasped hands. "Now, that's a face I didn't expect to see again." His gaze lingers on yours, a subtle twitch in his eye revealing his displeasure as he presses his lips together. "Sugar, care to explain why your boss is gracing us with his presence tonight?"

"Uh-" you stammer, closing your eyes briefly. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Joel."

The sound of glass breaks in the distance, your mother's surprised gasp shortly following, as if she was hovering past the kitchen in an attempt to eavesdrop on the inevitable showdown between your Father and Joel. You see your mother's maid run towards the door, excusing herself as she attempts to help your mother. You see your mother's friend from the club whispering to the man beside her, shaking her head as she links two and two together, a knowing smirk on the man's face as he looks at the both of you.  

"I see," your father responds, adjusting his collar to maintain composure. "Well, what's keeping you both standing there? Take a seat!" he commands, a forced smile directed at his friends. Joel moves to the chair beside your father, a playful raise of his eyebrows as he settles in, and you follow suit in the adjacent seat.

"Sir," Joel murmurs, his hand extended for a shake. Your father eyes the offered hand, clearing his throat before accepting it, engaging in a handshake with Joel. "It's been what, ten years?"

"Has it truly been that long? I recall warning you to steer clear of my daughter even then," he retorts wryly, sipping his drink leisurely.

"Honey," your mom interjects shakily, taking her seat beside you, opposite your father. "Our guests might prefer not to dwell on the past-"

"Dad, stop." You say softly, your head cast down. The emotions that you are going through are reminiscent of the emotions you felt when you were a kid, and you find yourself anxiously fiddling with your hands under the table, your bottom lip quivering slightly. "Please stop."

"What was that?" your dad asks menacingly, setting his fork down harshly. "If you have something to say, you might as well look at me! How did I end up with such a weak-minded naive little girl who opens her legs at the first rich old man she can find-"

"That's enough." Joel cuts in suddenly, his fists clenched together tightly, his knuckles white.  

As you glance at your mother from the corner of your eyes, you notice a slight tremor at the edge of her mouth. It's at that moment that you realize you share a vulnerable connection with her. Your mother looks just as horrified as you feel, her hands shaking while your father continues his tirade. The tears start to well up at the corners of your eyes, making your vision blurry. It's a tough moment, and you can't help but see a reflection of your own emotions in your mother's eyes.

"Tell me Miller, how long did you wait to seduce my daughter after you hired her at your firm?"

"Honey-" your mother interjects, shifting in her chair uncomfortably. "We have guests-"

"Or how long did you take until you seduced poor Mr. Miller here?" your Father spits, shaking his head in disbelief, his gaze going to your mother's shaking form. "What can I say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..."

"THATS ENOUGH!" you suddenly scream, slamming your fists on the table. You wipe the tears from your eyes, not caring about the mess it'll make at the makeup that the woman at the Laura Mercier counter meticulously placed upon your face earlier when Joel took you on an impromptu shopping trip for your cocktail dress. "Just stop it, STOP IT!"

Your father rises from his seat, his eyes drunkenly narrowed at you as he points at Joel. "You know, when they were talking about the little slut that was fucking Joel Miller at some dressing room who looked a lot like my daughter, I thought to myself, 'No, it couldn't be my little girl, she should know better', but then I see you in front of me, wearing that," he motions to your dress, "Maybe I misjudged my daughter after all. Congratulations, I guess, you managed to sleep your way to the top, just like your mother-"

"I said THATS ENOUGH!" you scream, rising from your seat, meeting your father's gaze.  

"Baby," your mother calls out in near tears. "Just let it go, you know how your father gets when he's drunk-"

But it's like you can't hear her.

"So it's okay for you, a rich man in a powerful position to 'seduce' a young woman, make her your wife, and force her into a life where she plays the doting perfect housewife, never allowed to pursue her dreams, always under your thumb? Is it okay for you to think so poorly of your child, your flesh and blood because I decided to fall in love with someone you don't approve of?" you're full-on crying now, not caring that you have an audience, tired of being that scared little girl who never spoke up, never had a voice of her own.  

"I did everything right. I wore the clothes you wanted, stayed away from any scandal, followed the rules, and earned an advanced degree at a decent school—all on my own merit. Only to be reduced to being seen as your 'little girl', unable to stand on my own two feet? Is it so bad that finally, I found someone patient enough to wait for me? Do you have any idea how long I've loved Joel? Only for you to tear us apart? Joel Miller is not like you, Father. He's built himself up from the bottom, proving himself to everyone who doubted him. He works tirelessly, supports his family and friends, and is the best boss anyone could ask for. And most importantly, he loves me, never gave up on me, and worked hard to prove himself. But here's the truth—I would have loved him even without all of this," you motion to the opulent interior, "richer or poorer. He never had to prove himself to me. I love him, and that's all that matters."

You glance down at Joel, who's clearly in shock by your confession. His mouth is agape, but there's awe in his eyes, and you know he's proud of you for standing your ground and finally finding your voice. He clears his throat, taking a sip of wine. "Thank you, baby," he whispers. You nod, wiping away the last of your tears.

Surveying the now silent room, your mother's eyes downcast, and your father staring into the distance from his seat, you offer a smile. "I apologize for the outburst, but I believe Joel and I have overstayed our welcome. I'm sorry for disrupting your dinner, Mom and Dad, but I don't think I belong here anymore." You raise your hand to Joel, who is already two steps behind you, and he rises from his seat, taking your hand in his. "I won't be part of a family that doesn't accept me any longer. Let's go, Joel."

"Sugar, baby, please-" you can hear your mom call out behind you as you lead Joel away from the dining room, determined to get the hell out of there. You hear your father telling your mother to sit down, to just let it go.  

"What are we gonna do now, baby?" Joel asks, engulfing you in a hug, and kissing the top of your head as you stand in the foyer.  

There's a glint in your eyes as you take his face in your hands, meeting his lips in a kiss.  

"Do you want to dish out some sweet fucking revenge?" you ask, your hands traveling down to his bulge in his slacks. "Give my poor father one last parting gift?"

His eyebrows raise in curiosity, groaning as you grab onto his cock harshly. "What did you have in mind, baby?"

"Follow me," you whisper, looking around to make sure no one is around, grabbing his hands as you lead him up the stairs, stopping at the door of your father's study. "Shall we?" you ask, opening the door. Joel nods eagerly, a small smirk on his face as he follows you into the room, closing the door behind him. You start to strip out of your dress, pushing the fabric slowly as Joel watches from behind. You push the fabric off your hips, sliding it from the slopes of your ass until the dress falls onto the ground, only leaving you in the black lace thong you asked Lenore to get you, a surprise for Joel. Joel groans in satisfaction as you lean against your father's desk, a wicked smile on your face.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" you breathe, "Are you going to fuck me on my father's desk or not?"

Joel smiles, unbuttoning his shirt. "I thought you would never fucking ask, baby."

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@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29, @missladym1981 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

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[cevansbrat0007]

An Afternoon with Minerva

Summary: Ari finds himself finally ready to admit the truth about his feelings for you...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Slight Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death, Cancer, Dead Mothers, Brief Mentions of War, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Somewhere Four Hours Outside of Bell’s Creek, Texas

“Shit!” Ari hisses when he almost slips in the middle of trudging up the muddy hillside. It had been raining pretty much non-stop since he’d made it out of Dallas and it hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down. 

But that hadn’t been enough to stop Ari Levinson – not today anyway. Today he was a man on a mission. And that mission involved a meeting with a very special woman. The very first love of his life, and he’d almost missed it. 

What kind of son forgot about his own Mama’s birthday? Not him. Otherwise he would’ve never heard the end of it from Evelyn and Marcia. 

He knew without having to call them that his sisters had already been by with their families earlier in the day. And the last thing he needed was them throwing a fit over his absence, no matter how justifiable it might’ve been. 

The Bounty Hunter nearly stumbles again as he weaves his way through the numerous memorials and monuments. He tries to move carefully, doing his best not to disturb the tributes dedicated to others’ loved ones who’d all gone too soon, regardless of how much time they’d spent on this earth.

And his sweet Mama was no exception. She’d left him just shy of his 21st birthday. He’d been by her side, holding her hand as she took her last breaths. Which seemed only fitting since she’d been there holding him on the day he’d taken his first. 

Cancer had done his Mama dirty. But while it had robbed her almost everything – her hair, her ability to walk, and ultimately her life – her fighting spirit had remained. Minerva “Minnie” Levinson had gone out swinging, leaving him behind to see after his two younger siblings. 

A sixteen-year-old Evie had been so angry back then. So small, but so unbelievably pissed at the world. Meanwhile, sweet baby Marcie had clung to him so tight he’d damn near had a fight on his hands whenever he wanted to take a piss by himself for longer than two minutes. That ten-year-old might as well have been his second shadow. 

He’d honestly had no idea just how much he missed her following behind him until he’d been deployed overseas during his first tour. But they'd needed the money and the benefits. And he’d needed an enemy – someone or something that could help him channel all of the rage and anger and hurt that had been simmering beneath the surface. 

So he’d left them behind to help fight another man’s war. But not before entrusting his sisters’ care to his friend, Vicky Gunther. And at the time, the fact that she’d also been his highschool sweetheart had felt like an added bonus.

It hadn’t necessarily mattered that his mother had never been too crazy about the woman. But what had mattered was that the girls had someone he knew to look after them while he was out risking his life.

Ari’s grip tightens on the flowers in his hand as he finally finds himself nearing his Mama’s grave. Evie and Marcie had picked it out, all he’d done was sign off on the check. They’d assured him that it was exactly what she would’ve wanted, right down to the quote etched into the granite, which read: “Always keep them guessing.”

That had been Minnie Levinson’s favorite phrase whenever they pulled up in a new town. When you’d grown up being on the run, staying one step ahead of your opponent was an absolute must. Especially when that opponent happened to be your own damned father. Growing up the son of Rex Levinson meant always having to look over your shoulder.

Because you never knew where he might be lurking. He could be states away or, more likely, right around the goddamned corner. Waiting to strike when his poor, terror-stricken family least expected it.

So they’d had to learn to always expect it. Even now, the only reason Ari felt any peace was because his Daddy was currently enjoying an all-inclusive, taxpayer funded 15 year stay at the James Crabtree Correctional Center in Helena, Oklahoma.

Thankfully, Rex still had a few years left on his tab before society deemed his debt to them finally repaid in full. Once he was released, he’d deal with it then. But right now…

Now it was time to see about his Mama. And this chat that they were about to have was long overdue. 

A smile finds its way to Ari’s lips once he’s finally standing in front of his mother’s memorial. He pauses briefly before crouching down to place the bouquet he’d brought with him next to the offerings left behind by other members of his family. Although he wasn’t surprised, he was happy to see that they’d all brought daylillies, which had been her favorite.

“Hey. Happy birthday, Mama.” Ari whispers, allowing his fingers to brush along the cool granite. “I made it. Just like I told you I would.” His eyes flutter closed as a light breeze blows by, gently ruffling his chestnut locks. 

It was a sign from Minerva herself, letting him know that she was there with him too. Just like she said she would be. And his Mama had never been one to lie to him. Not even in death. 

“I see the girls have already been here. I’m surprised they haven’t blown up my phone.” He stands then, grimacing when his left knee cracks as a result of the movement. It seemed like that old injury only bothered him when it rained. Shit sucked. 

“I’m sure Evie brought by baby Micah for his first visit. He’s cute ain’t he? Little chubby-cheeked shit machine.” Ari chuckles at that, scrubbing a big hand over his heart. “And I’m not being rude. First time we met he had a blowout in his diaper that was so bad we both needed a shower.” 

He laughs harder at the memory of him desperately trying to hand off his incredibly messy nephew to first his own Mama, and then his sister. They’d swerved him so fast, claiming that it was about damned time he learned how to change a diaper. 

He’d been mighty pissed at the time. But even so, he and baby Micah had stomped off to the bathroom, determined to handle the stinky situation like a couple of real men. And when they’d emerged from said bathroom forty-five minutes later, they’d been the ones to have the last laugh.

Okay, not really. Micah’s mother, Evie, had been too busy napping on the couch to notice much of anything, her body buried beneath a sea of half folded laundry. And Marcia was playing Go Fish with their four-year-old niece Isobel. But Ari hadn’t allowed the lack of fanfare to take the wind out of their sails.

He’d just grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge and retreated to his sister’s bedroom, intending to teach the kid about the importance of football until they’d both dozed off. And he still had the picture Evelyn had taken of them both that afternoon, fast asleep in the bed. The baby rocking a Dallas Cowboys onesie, and him wearing her lavender bathrobe.  

“They were just jealous, Mama. There I was being a good uncle, bonding with my nephew, and they were playing paparazzi.” That breeze kicks up again, the smell of wet earth filling the air. 

“But I’m sure you already know that. You were there. You saw everything. Those two were picking on me like they always do.” Ari pouts then, jamming his hands into his pockets. “There’s just something not right about those girls. Everytime I’m around ‘em, they pinch and poke and prod. Always asking if I’m seeing someone.” 

“It’s annoying is what it is. Makes me feel like a damn pincushion or somethin’.” The Bounty Hunter grumbles, nudging a tiny weed with his foot. “How am I supposed to tell ‘em anything if I haven’t run it by you first? Especially when it’s…when it’s…” He trails off as he searches for the right word. 

“Real.” He sucks in a breath as his head dips to his chest. “It’s real and it’s right and it’s new. It’s all those things, Mama. And I don’t know what to do with any of it because it’s like I spend half the damn time fightin’ with myself and the other is spent fightin’ her wanting to fly away on me.” 

One hand leaves his pocket to rest on the back of his neck. “And I know what you’re probably thinking, Mama. But that ain’t the issue. This woman, my little Bird…she ain’t Vicky.” He rocks back on his heels, careful not to slip in the rain soaked grass. 

“And I know you didn’t much care for Vicky. I already told you that I made a mistake with that one. I thought I was doing a good thing leaving the girls with her…” A harsh sigh leaves him as a fresh wave of bitterness rises in his throat. But he swallows it down, refusing to let it choke him. 

Because there was more to be said about the woman in his life today. His woman. His sweet Bird.

“Bird is everything I thought Vicky was. But it’s more than that. She’s the best part about that godforsaken Bell’s Creek. And something tells me that she’s wading knee deep into a pile of shit with this fuck, Martin, and these assholes, the Prescotts. It’s all one big mess that I normally would be chompin' at the to get rid of…”

Ari’s head drops again as he prays for another gust of wind, wanting another sign from his Mama to let him know that she was still listening. He doesn’t speak again until he feels it on his skin. This time it’s a loving caress, a gentle reminder that he’s not alone. 

How could he be when he had Minnie Levinson by his side?

“I haven’t had a single nightmare since I met her. I’m not saying I’m fixed or anything…” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “But maybe I’m not quite as broken as I thought I was. At least she sure doesn't seem to think so. She just tells me I am an ass.”

The sound of squirrels playing in a nearby tree is enough to distract him, albeit briefly. Once they settle down he quietly forges on.

“Ma, I swear this girl is really something special.” Ari whistles, running a hand over his beard. “Sweet, funny, absolutely gorgeous – and did I tell you she runs a bookstore? Can’t go and leave that part out now can I?” 

By now the rain has stopped, with the sun finally beginning to emerge from behind the clouds. He welcomes the warmth it brings. His Mama deserved to enjoy a little sunshine on her special day. 

“She – we fight like cats and dogs sometimes - my Bird and I. But that’s not really my fault. I mean I consider myself to be plenty damn agreeable with most things. But my woman…let’s just say I’ve met mules less stubborn than she is. But even so, it’s…it’s like I can’t get enough of her.”

Ari blows out a comforting breath before closing his eyes, his fingers going to the bridge of his nose. “She’s…she’s making me wanna stay. Got me wantin’ to plant roots and build her a house, complete with the white picket fence.”

“I’ve been lost since the moment I laid eyes on her, Mama. And nothing feels right unless I’m with her. When she’s not around it’s like I can’t think – I’m off balance and…” He swallows thickly. “Like even now, I’m here with you and there’s a part of me that is just itchin’ to get back in my truck and haul ass all the way back to Bell's Creek. I mean, I suppose I could’ve brought her with me.” He cocks his head to the side as the thought strikes him. “She would’ve come, but I couldn’t...”

Ari goes back to awkwardly bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I couldn’t bring her here because I needed to talk to you about her first. Introduce her properly so that I could tell you myself that I…” He swallows again, fighting the lump in his throat. 

“I love her, Mama.” 

There. He’d gone and said it. Not in his head. But out loud to the air. To the world. To his Mama.

“And that sweet little spitfire makes me work for it every day. I’m telling you right now that she needs a damn keeper. And I need her to keep me…balanced.” 

A grin spreads across his features as he feels the weight he’s been carrying suddenly lift from his shoulders. “I’m gonna introduce her to the girls, okay Ma? I know they’ll love her like I do. But can you do me a favor and tell ‘em to be nice? You know they never do anything I say.”

Ari bends down to let his fingers graze over his mother’s headstone one last time. “And when the time is right, I’ll bring her here to meet you too.” He murmurs, wishing for a moment that they were actually speaking face to face instead of like this. But unfortunately, that couldn't be helped. 

“Until then you rest easy, alright? Because me and the girls are doin’ just fine.” He takes a tentative step backwards. “I love you, Minnie Levinson. And I’ll be back to see you real soon.” Ari turns on his heel, preparing to navigate his way back to his truck. 

Halfway through the maze he pulls out his phone, thumbing through his contacts until he lights upon your name. He taps the entry before holding the device to his ear. The sound of your voice on the other line is enough to ease the subtle ache in his chest. At least for now. But he also knew from experience that it wouldn’t go away until he had you in his arms again. 

Just four measly, lonely hours until Ari Levinson felt whole again. 

END

Unofficial Tag List

@katymae12344

@daykrisr99

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

#cevansbrat0007 Sweet Renegade Series #chris evans imagines #ari levinson imagines #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans x you #ari levinson x you #chris evans x black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!reader #chris evans x black reader #ari levinson x black reader #chris evans smut #ari levinson smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female!reader #ari levinson x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #ari levinson x yn #chris evans x yn #ari levinson x y/n #chris evans x y/n #ari levinson girlfriend!reader #chris evans x fem!reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x poc!reader

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Booklist: Decentering Men, Feminist Dating, & Childfree Living

Books On Decentering Men/Feminist Perspectives On Dating (for the times you're in need, you know):

A Single Revolution by Shani Silver (most important rec, IMO!)

Patriarchy Stress Disorder: The Invisible Inner Barrier to Women's Happiness and Fulfillment by Valerie Rein, Ph.D

What a Time to Be Alone: The Slumflower's Guide to Why You Are Already Enough by Chidera Eggerue 

How To Get Over A Boy by Chidera Eggerue 

All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation by Rebecca Traister

Enjoy Your Solo By Mary Delia Allen

How to Be Single and Happy by Jennifer Taitz

Singled Out: How Singles Are Stereotyped, Stigmatized, and Ignored, and Still Live Happily Ever After by Bella DePaulo, Ph.D

On Our Best Behavior: The Seven Deadly Sins and the Price Women Pay to Be Good by Elise Loehnen 

We Are Not Born Submissive: How Patriarchy Shapes Women's Lives by Manon Garcia 

The Seven Necessary Sins for Women and Girls by Mona Eltahawy 

Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny by Kate Manne

Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling  Men by Lundy Bancroft 

Men Who Hate Women: From Incels to Pickup Artists: The Truth about Extreme Misogyny and How it Affects Us All by Laura Bates

Fed Up: Emotional Labor, Women, and the Way Forward by Gemma Hartley  

The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love by Bell Hooks

All About Love: New Visions by Bell Hooks

Books On Childfree Living:

Women Without Kids: The Revolutionary Rise of an Unsung Sisterhood by Ruby Warrington

Childfree by Choice: The Movement Redefining Family and Creating a New Age of Independence by Amy Blackstone

Confessions of a Childfree Woman: A Life Spent Swimming Against the Mainstream by Marcia Drut-Davis 

Regretting Motherhood: A Study by Orna Donath

No One Tells You This: A Memoir by Glynnis MacNicol 

25 Over 10: A Childfree Longitudinal Study by Laura Caroll

The Baby Matrix: Why Freeing Our Minds From Outmoded Thinking About Parenthood & Reproduction Will Create a Better World  by Laura Caroll

The Baby Trap by Ellen Peck

Policing the Womb: Invisible Women and the Criminalization of Motherhood by Michele Goodwin 

Without Children: The Long History of Not Being a Mother by Peggy O'Donnell Heffington 

#intersectional feminism #feminism #feminist #women empowerment #womens rights #intersectionality #social justice #patriarchy #purity culture #female gaze #female excellence #female power #female writers #it girl #femme fatale #female sexuality #the feminine urge #queen energy #dark feminine energy #high value woman #childfree #internalized shame #dark femininity #decentering men #girl advice #girl blogging #personal growth #book recommendations #book rec list #booklover

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals

Propaganda under the cut:

Kendall/Logan:

What if u were a 80 year old successful media mogul and the greatest love of ur life was ur cringe disappointing failson who is also ur number one boy and u get sooo possessive and jealous and unwell over him u literally try to ruin/sabotage every relationship he’s ever had. also he keeps trying to kill you!

Kendall is probably the most wife a son could be tbh. the kendall and marcia parallels are crayy

He spends an entire season as his fathers robotic little slave. multiple people suggest they are fucking. his dad talks like a bitchy high schooler to any woman he’s ever been with while he handled his fathers viagra they want to OWN each other groomed so hard the word lost all meaning

off to the races edit: https://youtu.be/SqwBVm0qyRo?si=XWZ8kVlz3rjBx2yV

"You're my number one boy."

Cersei/Jaime:

they're literally womb-to-tomb lovers. they feel that the rest of the world is beneath them and they're the only ones that matter. the fact that they're twins is fundamental to their attraction to each other

they’re blonde they’re evil they crossdress they’re fucked-up mirrors of one another they serve cunt they’re both bisexual probably and they’re TWINS who FUCK. who said that.

"if I were a woman, I'd be Cersei."

"I'll kill [...] the whole bloody lot of them until you and I are the only people left in this world."

"I am sick of being careful. The Targaryens wed brother to sister, why shouldn't we do the same? Marry me, Cersei. Stand up before the realm and say it's me you want."

"'Do you have a little wife, ser?'" No, I have a sister."

#tumblr polls #tournament polls #incest poll #kenlogan #succession #kendall/logan #cersei/jamie #lannicest #game of thrones #asoiaf #semifinals #tw incest

[woniverse-writes]

“Backfired Birthday”

bada lee x reader

summary: trying to surprise bada for her birthday with a cake and decorations, but it goes horribly wrong

word count: 2.2k

warnings: uhm they shower together but it's cute and wholesome, slight angst?? reader lowkey has a breakdown, not proofread

notes: I FINALLY MANAGED TO WRITE A SHORT FIC LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO- also, the other Bada birthday fic will be posted later, seeing as it's technically ready to post now, but I wanna add a little more spice to it lol

The week leading up to Bada’s birthday had gone really well- you would even say it was perfect! You had everything set in stone and were determined to give her the best birthday ever, especially since it was the first one you were celebrating as a couple. You two had been friends for the last few years, having met through dance. You were both choreographers and instructors for Just Jerk Academy and got to know each other through another dancer from the studio. When Howl had said he wanted to introduce you two to each other, neither really knew what to expect, you assuming that Bada and him were a thing, and her assuming the same of you and him. So it came as a shock when he set you two up on a date and claimed he was trying to help his girls stop being single. And here you are years later, happier than ever, preparing for your now girlfriend's birthday. 

When you woke up that morning, you made sure to get up a little earlier than usual to prepare an extra special breakfast for your lovely girlfriend. it was storming severely outside and it eventually got so bad that the power went out- cutting the line for your toaster, your fridge, your microwave, and your electric stove. You were so disappointed in your failed breakfast that you ended up just going to lay back in bed with Bada, who gladly accepted your warmth as you snuggled your way back into her arms.

The two of you woke up again, together this time, about an hour later. The power had seemed to come back on at some point, although it was still raining pretty hard outside. You ended up making a simple breakfast and ate together quickly before Bada had to head off to the studio for some lessons today. You made sure not to take on any classes in order to prepare all the festivities and gifts for your girlfriend, in order for her to have the most relaxing and satisfying birthday when she got off work.

The first thing you did was head to the store to pick up some ingredients for a cake, as well as look for a nice champagne or wine that would make the evening even more romantic. After getting the basic ingredients, you spent the next 45 minutes stressing over whether you should get champagne or wine, reeling you knew nothing about your girlfriend’s more refined drinking preferences. Eventually, you decided just to skip the alcohol (even though you definitely felt like you needed some right about now) and move on to the checkout.

After the unnecessarily long shopping trip, you made your way to the floral shop to pick up the arrangement you had ordered a week ago. When you arrived, an older lady who seemed to have been working there a long time was working the front register. You went up to her and let her know you were there to pick up an order. She scanned through her system and looked confused briefly before asking if it could be under a different name. After you shook your head, she asked for your phone number and email address to track your receipt, but nothing came up again. 

You were beginning to panic until a younger-looking girl walked about from the back and the older lady flagged her down.

“Marcia, do you remember if you took this young lady’s order any time recently?” the older woman asked turning stiffly toward the younger worker, who tensed up and flitted her eyes back and forth between you and her manager.

“Uhm… I think so…” The older woman sighed shortly and asked

“Well did you give her any sort of receipt?” to which the younger girl shook her head and looked like she was about to cry, but to be honest you were too. Things were quickly starting to fall apart and you could feel it. After about 30 minutes of searching, they ended up not being able to find any sort of receipt to show your order was taken, but the younger employee admitted to having taken your order earlier that week and not giving you a receipt, so the older lady, who you assumed to be the shop owner, offered to whip something up for you at a discounted price of what you would've originally paid, to which you accepted, then had to immediately decline after hse told you it would be ready after Bada would've already gotten home.

Leaving the flower shop and heading back home, you tried to focus on the tasks at hand, which were decorating and baking Bada’s birthday cake. As you pulled into the driveway, the rain picked up again, soaking you as you got out of your car and grabbed all the groceries from the back of your trunk. While you were trying to walk as fast as possible, a stray cat ran out from one of the bushes in front of your house, startling you so badly, that you dropped the bag with all the decorations in it, spilling them onto the concrete, causing them to get soaked in the rain and some covered in mud, leaving them unusable. You tried to pick them up and quickly make your way inside to assess the damage and hopefully still be able to use some of the decorations, but you had no luck seeing as they were so damp and stained with dirt that there was barely anything left from what could've been saved anyways.

You let out the biggest sigh ever and threw your head back with a groan. You told yourself it was okay, seeing as you still had about three and a half hours until Bada would be home, and in that time all you had to do was bake a cake, seeing as you had no champagne or decorations to prepare. But that also made you realize you hadn’t gotten her a present or even a card. 

In a state of absolute panic, you slipped your shoes on and ran back out to your, starting the engine and swiftly backing out of your driveway. You ran to the nearest store, which happened to be the one you had already visited today for the cake ingredients, and picked up a birthday card. Soon after that, you ran to the mall and spent the next 45 minutes trying to decide between getting Bada a new jersey or a new pair of sneakers. You didn’t feel as if either was enough to showcase how much you loved her, so you just bought both, not even worrying about your bank account at the moment.

Once you made it back home for the second time, you immediately set the oven to pre-heat while you began preparing the batter. You have an hour and a half now before Bada gets home, so it’s crunch time. You still wanted to shower and change into a cute outfit so you’d be all ready for when she got home, but thought that was a bad idea since you were in the middle of baking. The cake batter was coming together nicely until the power suddenly went out again in the middle of you mixing the batter. You let out a mix of a scream and a groan in frustration. 

The power suddenly turned back on a few moments later, which you weren’t prepared for- especially since your mixer decided to turn back on as well while didn’t have a grip on it, sending the bowl flying off the counter and batter to splatter everywhere- all over the walls, the counters, and covering you as well. You let out a shocked scream as it happened and immediately reached to unplug the mixer, frozen in shock afterwards.

You felt like such a terrible girlfriend as you stood in the messy kitchen, wondering how you were gonna clean up the chaos and yourself before Bada got home. She had no cake, no decorations, and You couldn’t even get her the proper flowers. Everything just felt like a disaster, and you couldn’t help but tear up as you surveyed the mess around you.

You didn’t even hear the door unlock, only noticing your girlfriend swinging the door open and walking through after she had already closed the door and locked it behind her.

“Hi baby- woah, what’s going on?” the tall girl giggled and smiled lovingly at you from across the kitchen as she took off her hoodie and threw it on the back of one of the chairs. You looked around in a daze and once you made eye contact with her, you felt your lip quiver as you tried to put on a smile.

“Happy birthday my love” is what you tried to say but couldn’t even finish as you burst into tears. You felt pathetic, covered in cake batter, crying in your messy kitchen in front of Bada on her birthday. It made you cry even harder when you became self-aware and felt you were being selfish since your girlfriend probably had a long day and now here you are trying to take the attention away from her on her day.

Bada wasn’t thinking that at all though. She immediately made her way to the other side of the kitchen to wrap you in a hug and kiss your head, ignoring your protests (“You’re gonna get batter all over you-” you cried into her shoulder. “Shhh it’s okay” she shook her head and pulled you closer). You stayed that way for a while until you calmed down for the most part. When you pulled away slightly you looked up at Bada with puffy eyes and a pout, which she smiled enedaringly at and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You began to tear up again, so disappointed in yourself for not being able to pull off something so simple. But Bada put a stop to it once again immediately.

“Princess- it’s okay” she giggled sweetly, wiping away your tears and caressing your cheek. She tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and began slowly leading you towards the bathroom.

“Why don’t we take a nice shower together, yeah?” the tall girl asked softly, still not letting go of you, making sure to have some sort of physical contact at all times while the two of you made your way around. Neither of you even bothered to grab clean clothes, heading straight for the bathroom. Bada started the shower, holding your hand and softly looking over her shoulder every few seconds to smile at you reassuringly. Once she was satisfied with the water temperature, Bada took her shirt off first, leaving her in a sports bra and cargo pants. then she proceeded to help fully undress you before taking off the rest of her clothes and ushering you both into the shower. 

You relaxed slightly under the warm water and closed your eyes, letting the droplets soak your hair and skin, already slightly cleaning you off. Bada reached behind you to grab the shampoo off one of the shelves and squirted some out into the palms of her hands before lathering it in your hair. She stood in front of you, gently tilting your head back as she continued to wash your hair, you standing with your arms wrapped around her waist, eyes still closed, finally feeling at peace for the first time that day.

After taking a little longer than expected due to getting distracted by some innocent shower kisses, you both finished helping each other clean up and hopped out from under the water which had gotten a little colder than what it was before. You playfully dry each other off, giggling and pressing sweet kisses to random areas on each other’s face, neck, and shoulder; you head back to your shared bedroom wrapped up in your fluffy towels. You sleepily pick out some clean clothes to wear, both of you only grabbing an oversized shirt and a clean pair of undergarments to sleep in. 

After getting dressed and hanging the towels back up, Bada turns off the bedside lamps, and you both snuggle up under your covers.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t give you an amazing birthday, and that I cried the second you got home” you apologized, staring up at Bada in the dim light with sad puppy eyes. You could barely make out the loving smile on her face as she pressed a kiss to your forehead, then a couple to your cheeks, and then one to your lips.

“Don’t apologize for anything. I had an amazing birthday, simply because I got to spend even a sliver of it with you…” Bada reassured in a hushed voice, pulling you in closer to intertwin her legs with yours under the covers. She kissed you once again softly on the lips before resting her forehead against yours.

“I love you so much, and any moment I get to spend with you is already such a gift, so thank you, my sweet girl.” her sentiment and sweet words made you tear up again, but you were able to swallow it down this time.

“I love you too. Happy birthday, my love.” and you both fell asleep happily cuddled into each other, with the sound of the rain pouring outside.

permanent taglist: @uwulyn

#bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter x reader #bada x reader

[aranock]

Just had someone claim that I maliciously stole ideas from a friend without acknowledgong them when said friend is litterally in the video, and I was in the video I supposedly took thing from, despite my not even once thinking about either thing as being even remotely similar. Like not even slightly an influence. Also I am pretty open about when something influenced me. I don't exactly hide it. Idk I feel like people are really stretching to find anything they can hate Jessie and I for this video with. Like really? Really?

Anyway just to be clear The Editor is not a ripoff of my friend Neil from The Leftist Cooks video on metamodernism, great video btw go watch it. I wrote the editor in because as I was doing the script editing proccess on Jessies initial script and came up with a new structure and worried that if I didnt draw attention to this people would maliciously misinterpret part 1 without getting to the part 2 twist. The Editor is LITTERALLY representing what I did in the script editing proccess for this video. Though there role and purpose expanded to represent more broadly what editing and editors do to works, reinforcing the points we make on art as collaborative and the importance of the influence of for example Marcia Lucas on making the original trilogy as good as it was. If there was any inspiration for The Editor it was chatting with my friend @wonderful101gecs about Pathologic and Brechtian Epic Theatre. I wanted to disallow the audience from suspension of disbelief and force them to reconcile with the world as it is and with how narratives are manufactured. Even then its pretty loose inspiration. The Editor was just a natural result of needing a purpose fulfilled and rounding out my layers within layers structure. Im not sure if it was Jessie or I that named them that, but we made them a named character because we worried at one point early on if we didnt do that people might get really shitty towards me. Like originally in the script it was just "Aranock" and as they became a character I pushed it further towards them being a sort of amoral embodiment of concepts masquerading as a villain who was masquerading as a Hero, pretendint to be the great person behind everything. Thus I came to "oh I need a second rug pull" and thats where layer 5 came from because I needed to really REALLY make the audience go "oh I need to question the narrative" and not treat The Editor as the great man myth. Layer 1, the animation, came from a desire to have a narrative layer below the documentary and video essay layers, below any meta layer. So yeah originally this was just a long very direct essay by Jessie about the making of and politics of star wars, my reediting of those become layer 2 and 3, with some small bits of those ending up in layer 4. Oh also some elements of what became the editor and of the script existed before I even began my youtube channel. Like I have been kicking around aspects of these ideas for over 3 years. The Editors opening monologue is almost all from something I wrote about a year before releasing my first video. So yeah I was not stealing stuff from a video by my friend that released last year, and frankly its really shitty that people assume that of me.

Also I'm tired of how frequently people have been specifying out just me to be shitty about. Attacking my voice for being feminine, being weird about my body. Really makes me feel great. Love being a trans woman making art on the internet. Love how y'all attack me if my voice sounds how you perceive womens voices should sound and you attack me when it doesnt. Im tired people suck, and its really weird that some of you want me to sound more "manly", but thanks for the validating my self taught voice training I guess????

#the decaying monomyth of star wars #Jessie Gender #aranock #video essays #fuck I am tired #god this month sucks

[your-mums-nuts]

It’s so insane to me that everyone tries to justify roman being in love with Gerri with “mummy issues” or some other physco-sexual thing that completely dismisses Gerri as a person in favour of seeing her as an outlet for Roman’s sexual fantasies. Like, have we even been watching the same show?

Roman has been on Gerri’s side from season 1 episode 2- this guy saw her on screen in season 4 and had to immediately sit down, this man has been following her around every single season with no agenda other then to talk to her, to listen to her opinion on things!! My man literally trips over himself trying to get her to laugh!!! she’s the quasi-love of his life!! His final scene was him ordering her favourite drink!! Neither the actors or writers have ever said anything like “she likes him because of the power it gives her” or, “he likes her cause he wants a mummy”, you could say a million things about tomshiv, tomgreg or kenstewy- (hell, I don’t see anyone putting a magnifying glass over Marcia’s love and devotion for Logan) but with Roman and Gerri, it seriously just boils down to, they like eachother. Why do you have to justify it? Because she’s an older woman? As if Toms hair isn’t already grey but nooo, millions of people are still shipping tomgreg and tomshiv.

Anyway, Gerri Kellman is fucking funny and intelligent and hot and Roman Roy loves her and not enough people talk about it.

#romangerri #Gerri kellman #I love her so much you guys don’t understand #this all boils down to ‘why is Roman into Gerri?’ and my only response is ‘have you SEEN GERRI??’ #Roman Roy #marcia roy #Logan Roy #tom wamsgans #greg hirsch #shiv roy #kenstewy #Kendall Roy #kendall x stewy #Roman x Gerri #gerriroman