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jo-com · 1 day

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‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ ➛ Shots

Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: You guys are used to having people send out free drinks because they fancy Oscar, but when it was your turn he did not like it one bit. (Inspired by the oneshot I’ve read, I forgot who the author was sorry😭)

Genre: Fluff

Note: nothing, just look out for grammatical errors and this is not proofread

───── ─ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ─ ─────

The sun radiated brightly emitting a soft glow that shined over the flesh of your skin— it was creating a rather medium type of shade the longer it sets on your body.

You don’t mind it though, as long as you were relaxed and rested in the embrace of you boyfriend; everything was just okay.

You and Oscar, along with his fellow drivers decided to have a day off at the beach. It was trip that has been long overdue, due to their busy schedules the trip was postponed one to many times.

So when they had their day off, the lot of them took advantage of it and agreed to pay the beach a visit— enjoying the calming atmosphere that surrounds the beach and having to spend time with their significant others. The whole afternoon was nothing but perfect.

After playing volleyball, you guys decided to just chill near the bar lounge and gossip about anything that comes to mind.

You and Oscar sat at the middle in between Carlos and Lando. As they talk more and more, your eyes started to drift off; the sound of their voices started to mix the other background clamoring.

Your eyes were closed but was still tentative— you could still feel the brush of air that lightly ran over your skin along with Oscar’s fingers that circulates at the curve of your back.

With a low hum, you acknowledged his gesture and was pleased to let him know that you appreciate it.

As time passes by, they were all still happily chatting; laughing at each other’s joke and a bit of yelling but playful one’s of course. Everything seemed to be going so great.

Well not until one of the staffs walked towards their way, holding a tray that consists of one drink.

The whole group looked curiously as the man settled the drink in your table. The loudness of their voices suddenly died down—all eyes looking intently at the man whose just doing his job.

With the sudden quietness, curiously you fluttered your eyes open. Not being able used to the sound of silence, you propped your body up and was now leaning your whole body at Oscar’s chest.

Your eye’s widened as all attention was onto you— you felt the intense feeling of being stared at back of your head.

“Good day ma’am, that gentleman over there wanted to give you this” he spoke, his hand then went to his vest and pulled out a piece of paper.

The waiter handed you the note and left, right after you took the piece of paper.

“What does it say?” Max asked, just as curious as the others.

“I’d like to know as well” oscar spoke, his tone laced with both curiosity and jealousy.

“Well…” you trailed off and then proceeds to open the folded paper.

‘Hey hot stuff, can i have your number??’

You giggled at the childish note, making your friends cock their head to the side, anticipation rushed over them as they try to read the expression off your face.

Meanwhile Oscar was not having it, he caught a glimpse of the note and saw what was written over it. Oh he was not happy at all.

“It’s nothing, just some guy asking for my number, it’s stupid really” you spoke, brushing off the note like it was nothing, i mean it was nothing well for you it was.

For Oscar, it was like all hell broke loose, did that guy not notice Oscar or something?

All the others just laughed; you along with them. It was just a harmless attempt to get to you, it’s not that big of a deal. Oscar gets those every-time and it’s fine cause you know he wouldn’t act on it or anything.

You we’re about to reach for the drink when you felt Oscar’s hand grabbing it first. You turned to his direction and raised your brows at his action.

“Oooh someone’s jealous~” Lando teased, repeating it two more times before laughing out loud. The others heard the commotion that lando started and played along with his jokes.

Oscar rolled his eyes, completely denying his emotion. “I am not jealous, i just think it’s stupid,” he shrugged, trying to play it cool— even though you could tell his true feeling just by looking at his face.

“Yeah right” Carlos replied, earning a fit of giggle from around the group.

“You’re not actually jealous? Are you baby?” You spoke teasingly, chuckling a little at your own words.

“Like i said, i am not” he said in a monotone voice; he was acting childish it was adorable. In your eyes it was— it wasn’t in his.

You then slowly shifted your body to face his and snaked your arms that rested on his shoulder blades. “Don’t take it at heart baby, you know I won’t actually give him my number right?” You whispered, loud enough for him to only hear.

“I know…” he sighed, his arm settled in the plush of your thighs; squeezing the soft surface to find comfort.

“I just don’t like it that i was here and he still asked you, am I invisible or something?” He added. His head hung low to avoid your stare.

A soft giggle left your lips as you grazed your finger over his chin and slowly lift it up, so you could be eye to eye. “Now you know what i feel when someone does that to you, but baby rest assured that i am yours and only yours.”

Oscar slowly smiled and hugged your body close to his,”i love you” he muttered— the hug getting tighter to which you of course accepted happily.

“I love you too, my love” you smiled and pecked his lips; it was short but meaningful kiss of assurance.

The whole day then went fine, sure they were teasing him non stop but it doesn’t affect him that much like earlier because you were there to assure him every-time.

…

Creds to the real owners ideas, this is just my version of it! Hope you like it guys sorry for not posting to much I’ve been in a writers block😭😭

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leilanihours · 20 hours

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# LIKE CLOCKWORK

pairing: paige bueckers x gf/teammate!reader

word count: 1532

warnings: arguing, offensive cursing?

summary: in a heated game, your girlfriend doesn't hesitate to step up and defend you.

from lani: i rlly hate this and its like corny imo but idk..oh also i have nothing against usc or any of their players i just needed someone to cause drama sorry guys!

THE WHOLE GAME was a mess, in all honesty. the aggression. the determination. the ref’s bullshit calls. there were too many factors that contributed to the general tensity of the game.

in the midst of the march madness tournament, uconn ended up going against usc, a school that was set up to have a “rivalry” with the huskies due to the similarity between their star freshman, juju watkins, and your own all-american girlfriend, paige bueckers.

however, the crowd was focused on a different pair tonight: you and kayla williams. you had heard of the girl prior to the game and acknowledged that she was a good player on both ends of the court, so you prepared yourself for her efforts.

before tonight, you had absolutely nothing against her. you respected her and her dedication to the sport, even complimenting her once in an interview. but for some reason, the trojan had been all up in your personal space the entire game. some may call it good defense but she was simply doing way too much in your eyes.

there had been multiple accounts where she illegally restricted your movement as you went to make a shot, yet the refs let it be. the entire ordeal pissed you and your own teammates off, but specifically your girlfriend.

you could tell paige was getting annoyed at the way kayla was acting, even when the ball wasn’t in play. her eyes were trained on the opponent every now and then to make sure that she wouldn’t try anything. but she practically death stared her.

it’s not that you couldn’t handle yourself, because everyone knew damn well that you could, it was the fact that the intensity of kayla’s physical pressure over you was honestly concerning. still, you continued to focus on the game.

it was currently two minutes left in the fourth quarter and uconn held the lead 82-76. with a six point deficit and a freshman sharp shooter for usc, the score was too close for your team's comfort.

your coach had advised the team to stay off of social media to avoid letting their opinions get to your heads, but you still knew what was happening. people were calling you out for being too emotional on court after an incident with a player on duke in the previous round.

———

it was almost the end of the third quarter and uconn was up by…a lot. the duke players were not happy at all.

you were running across the floor, crossing between the two duke players guarding you. for some reason they were set on the fact that you were their biggest threat, so as they double-teamed you, you had to push harder against their defense.

your teammate kk arnold passes you the ball over the pile of bodies trying to guard you as you catch it with your hands extended in the air. quickly, you adjust your stance as you shield the ball away from duke’s grasps.

you dribble the ball forward before stepping back out behind the three-point line and faking a pass to paige to get the guards off of you. with the small time frame and physical space you had, you quickly jump and shoot the ball into the net, resulting in a beautiful swish as another three points are added to the board.

you also draw a foul since one of the duke girls grabbed at your leg mid-jump shot. you throw up three fingers in the air and smile as your teammates pat your back and dap you up.

before you were set to get two free throws, you huddled up with the rest of the girls to discuss your next plays. you were focused on what paige was explaining, but you couldn’t help overhearing the discussion in the huddle next to you.

“god, she’s not even that good. the only reason she’s here is because her dad is on the coaching staff.”

“exactly, she’s just a bitch with connections, all her shots are sloppy.”

you lift your head from your own huddle to make sure you’re hearing them correctly. “hey, what was that? what’d you say?” you ask them.

“nothin’ bitch, just mind your business,” one of the girls says with a pointed glare.

“sorry?” you’re now fully turned around to face her, but you try to maintain your composure so as to not get a tech.

“woah hey chill,” paige says as she swiftly places her hands on your waist to pull you away from the scene, “you gotta ignore them, y/n, we can’t have you getting a tech. don’t let them get to you.”

her eyes are locked on yours as her large hands are still grasping your jersey loosely. you nod wordlessly with your jaw clenched.

“like clockwork?” she asks you, fist extended.

you smirk at her proposal and bump your hand against hers, “like clockwork.”

it was a phrase you two often used on the court, just the two of you. whenever either of you said it, it was an unspoken promise to have each other’s backs and power through the game no matter what.

it was a signal to show your opponents your unbeatable connection that left everyone speechless and scrambling for their words. so, like clockwork, you two were beasts on the court after initiating the promise.

you were angry to say the least. you were tired of the treatment not only from other players, but also from the media. everyone had instructed you to block it all out and take your emotions out on the ball and net. so that’s what you did.

———

and that’s what you continued to do. you drove your shots, defended well, and refused to back down. you were pumped up by the adrenaline running through your veins, but after you managed to drain another three-pointer, one split-second interaction sent a different emotion to course through you.

“try-hard bitch,” you hear as you are shoved forward. turning around, you are faced with, of course, kayla williams.

before you could respond, you see paige stepping in front of you protectively and getting up in her face. you see her place a strong forearm against kayla’s chest to push her off of you.

“yo, you need to back the fuck off,” she demands as she lessens the space between her and the trojan to intimidate her. paige had about five inches of height on the girl, so she was glaring down at her with looks that could kill.

she was tired of all the bullshit you were getting, tired of them pushing you around. so, naturally, she had to do something about it.

but unfortunately, the refs caught the heated interaction, immediately blowing their whistles to give both paige and kayla technical fouls for unsportsman-like conduct.

paige freezes the second she hears the refs’ call before walking away from you and kayla frustratedly. you stalk after her, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed at her sudden outburst.

“paige, what the hell was that? what happened to not letting them get to us?” you ask as she plops down into a chair on the sidelines, head in her hands. she shakes her head, not responding to you, “paige??”

“i’m sick of their shit, y/n,” she says after taking a deep breath and lifting her head to look at you, “they’ve been acting like this the whole game. i tried to hold back but this one is on them.”

“i know they’ve been acting up, but that doesn’t mean you step in and get a technical!” you practically yell at her. everyone’s emotions were complicated at the moment, and you were letting yours get the better of you, “you can’t do that paige!”

“but i’d do it again!” she yells back, standing up to be face-to-face with you, “for you, i’d do it again because guess what? you don’t deserve this shit. i’m perfectly fine with getting a tech because they were speaking on your name. i wasn’t gonna let that slide.”

there was less than a foot of distance between you two. both of your chests were heaving as you got into a bit of a screaming match. the refs were still replaying and discussing the recent altercation, trying to determine the intensity and consequences warranted.

“fuck, paige,” you sigh as you run a hand over your face, “you can’t put your career on the line like that for me. i won’t be the reason your future is ruined.”

“what are you not understanding, y/n? i don’t care about all that right now! all i care about is you! are you telling me that you wouldn’t do the same for me?” your expression is straight as you remain silent, knowing damn well that you would go to hell and back for this girl, “that’s what i thought. so please don’t give me anymore shit for this and go win this game.”

after a few seconds of intense eye contact and you processing her words, you mirror her priceless smirk.

“you’re impossible,” you breathe out and shake your head before making your way back to the court, but not before paige lands a quick slap to your ass.

“like clockwork, ma, like clockwork!” she yells at you with a smile.

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crguang · 2 days

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wasted with longing

You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.

friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words

A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3

this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH

You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.

Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.

You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.

“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”

As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.

You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.

You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.

You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.

You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.

You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”

Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”

You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.

“You got rid of the painting?”

You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.

“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.

“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”

“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”

Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.

“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”

You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t remember that.”

“No?”

She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.

“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.

You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”

Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.

Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me.”

Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”

“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”

“Were you counting?”

“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”

“Yeah?”

Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.

Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.

“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.

You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.

“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.

Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.

“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.

She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”

Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.

Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.

“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”

There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.

“W-What?”

“Did you miss me this much?”

Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.

“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“You w— Hah—!”

She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.

“I missed you.”

You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.

“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.

Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”

To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”

You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.

“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”

She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.

You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.

“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.

Kafka doesn’t text the next day.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #hsr #hsr x reader #kafka x reader #kafka x you #hsr x you #hsr smut #kafka smut #dom!kafka

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 24 hours

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Sometimes Silence Is The Best Medicine

Jiyan x reader

Notes: I really needed some comfort from my husband, so I'm throwing this out there for others.

Reader based of of oc (but given name inserts), gn reader, they/them used, afab anatomy possibly mentioned.

Also small warning about some graphic imagery and also not proofread lol

It's ringing, your head is ringing. It's not some stark white noise, it doesn't even sound like anything. It's like there's an absence of noise, yet it's every noise as well. You can't block it out either, it heightens when you hear anything. It just won't stop. You wanted to scream. Why won't it stop-

"Are you alright [Y/n]?" A sudden voice calls out, startling you out of your internal screaming. Gentle hands grasp onto your hands, now realizing they're gripping onto your hair tightly, coaxing them to release the [h/c] locks. The person doesn't let go, instead they keep a firm grip on your skin in comfort. "Breathe."

"I am." You reply, acknowledging the slow breathes you were taking. The realization that tears were running down struck you, feeling the droplets land onto your joined hands. Taking a moment to recollect yourself, you lift your head a bit to look at the person before you. Though you didn't see their face, instead you immediately recognized them by the clothes. "I'm fine, Jiyan."

"Forgive me, but I don't believe you." He says, giving you hands a gentle squeeze. It's easy for him to notice how you aren't meeting his eyes or how tense your posture was. "What happened?"

"Nothing did." You sighed, turning your head away to look on at the main city of Jinzhou. The gentle breeze picked up your clothing a bit, letting it flow like petals. "Just...my own head being my biggest enemy."

"I see." He pauses, unsure how to respond. "Would it be better to talk about it?"

"Not really?" You shrug your shoulders, ignoring the almost itching sensation the fabric that clung to your form gave. "It's hard to explain."

"Try it. Explain to me."

"It's...It's like everything is too much." You begin to say, focusing on the warmth his hands gave. "Every sound is deafening, almost every touch is itchy, and no matter where I look my eyes burn because it's too bright. It makes me want to scream out loud until my voice is gone and scratch my skin off."

"That's..."

"I know, it's intense." You chuckle as you can practically see his expression from the way his voice sounded. "But it happens, it's just something I have to get over until the next time."

"Does having someone with you help?"

"Sometimes? Other times no." You squeeze his hands, desiring more warmth to seep into your palms. "Though luckily this is one of those times."

"I'm glad." He smiles, reciprocating your grasp. You hear a small shuffle before you feel his shoulder bump into your, causing you to tense a bit. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

He releases one hand, using the now free limb to bring your head onto him. "Is this okay?"

"...kind of." You mutter, feeling your cheeks turning a bit red at the contact. A small thought crossed your mind, but you weren't too sure if you wanted to go through with it.

"I remember you saying compressions usually helped with those who experience similar things. Would that also work for you?" He asks softly, studying your body language to make sure he wasn't overstepping.

"I'm not sure."

"Are you willing to try?"

"...yes."

Without another word he guides you to sit in front of him, the grass brushing against your skin irritatingly. You grunt in annoyance, before he pushes you against him and wraps his arms around you. You stiffen in his hold, hearing him whisper into your ear to relax and breathe. You do so and as the breeze tickled your cheeks, you began to smell the clear waters that were nearby.

"Would you be alright with talking more? Or is being silent better?" He asked gently, keeping a comfortable firm grip on your form.

"I wanna enjoy the view of the city a bit." You whisper, the desire to scream slowly leaving you. You barely could even register the fact that the sounds of the world around were quietening.

So you both sat there, taking in the shared warmth as they watched the sun begin the set down past the city.

#wuwa #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa jiyan #jiyan x reader #jiyan x oc #this calmed my mind actually #god what would i give to be able to be in his arms #he gives some major comforter vibes

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neneism · 1 day

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Nagi Seishiro ! screw homework, look at me instead.

alternatively… nagi wants your attention. you just want to finish your homework for once. content... wc 1.5k, established relationship, fluff fluff and more fluff message... based on literally every single you’re doing homework and someone wants your attention fic. let me live my life

"Hey.” Utter silence.

"Hey. Hey. Heyyyyy. Don’t ignore me,” Nagi pouts when you make no move to acknowledge him. “Is your homework more interesting than me?”

"You were the one that decided to come over Sei. I told you I was gonna be busy doing homework." You glance over your shoulder to look at him lying down on your bed while holding his phone only to look back at your desk immediately after.

He pouts and puts his phone down before turning over to look at you. "But homework is so boring," he says while burrowing his face in your pillow and dragging out the last syllable of his sentence. "Just do it later, it shouldn't take long since you're so smart. You could cheat too."

Nagi's pout only deepened at the short glance you ended up giving him, hating how you won't look at him for longer. He sighs and slowly sits up to lean against your headboard.

"You're so mean," he whines out while throwing his head back. "You didn't even look at me. Just leave your homework and come here."

"Don't you have homework to be doing too? I know for a fact that you didn't finish it in class since you were sleeping and I distinctly remember telling you that I won't give you any answers," you say mindlessly, not even sparing a glance to continue working on your assignment.

"So what. I can cheat later," he smirks, not caring about his homework. But his face quickly morphs into a sulking expression as he pouts and looks at you again.

"Stop working already. Come here and pay attention to me," Nagi pleads, dragging your name out, using a cutesy tone.

"I can just hear the pout you're making. I'm sorry Sei, but this is really important," you look back at him again and smile to console him. "Maybe you can take a nap? I'll probably finish by the time you wake up."

Nagi grunts. He hates how you’re acting right now, how you can act so disinterested like there’s something more important than him, how you can be so focused and so serious on something else other than him, how you won’t give your attention to him and only him.

All you can see is a child protesting as he crosses his arms and frowns looking straight at you. "No way," he responds. "As if I'd do something even more boring than homework."

"I don't know what to tell you then. Play a different game or something. You could always go hang out with someone else. I'm pretty sure Reo is free right now," you smile at him before turning around to do more homework.

He frowns at the fact you aren't even looking at him anymore. He frowns even deeper remembering that you told him to leave and hang out with someone else. Nagi really hates that he wasn't getting any attention, and refused to let that slide.

Sluggishly, he stands up and slowly walks over to where you're sitting at your desk. He stands behind you and pouts again while he wraps his arms around you and slumps over to rest his chin on your shoulder. You can see his pleading, puppy dog eyes staring at you from the corner of your vision as he starts playing with the hem of your shirt.

"Sei! What are you doing?! You're heavy!" you yell out incredulously, as you're forced to scrunch up because of his sudden weight. You furiously tap his arm, repeating "get off" hoping he'll be annoyed enough to stop.

"Hmmmm," he doesn't move using his groan as a response. Instead, he wraps his arms around you tighter and pulls you even closer to him, starting to nuzzle his face against your neck while placing small pecks on the area.

"Let go, you big baby. This is what you get you know. If you let me finish this during class earlier then we wouldn't be having this problem right now," you tell him, moving your hand up to tap his head instead.

"It's not my fault," he whines, "and I don't wanna let go," he replied childishly continuing to peck your neck. The look he gives you is downright begging, with his pleading expression. "Please. Attention first. Finish your assignment later after you've given me all of your attention. Please. Pay attention to me. Please, please, please, plea-"

"Oh my gosh, be quiet, you're so annoying," you say letting out a small laugh at his persistence. You start to slowly lower your head on top of his, which is still buried in your shoulder. "Fine, fine, what do you want?"

His face instantly lights up at your words, which you have to hold In another laugh because of his silly expression. A small smile appears on his face while he lifts himself off of you.

"I want to hug and cuddle you on the bed. Please," he says in his usual deadpan voice, but you can hear a tinge of embarrassment in his admittance.

"Mmmm, I don't know," you tell him teasingly while turning around in your chair to face him. "What would I get out of that?"

Nagi pouts at your teasing, expecting you to immediately say yes to his demands. He's definitely spoiled off of your attention. He frowns and crosses his arms as he thinks of a response to your question.

"I know you want kisses and cuddles, but you have to give me more attention too," he replies in a grumpy voice, not expecting to have to bargain with you.

"Who says I want that? I'm pretty sure you're the one who wants that stuff. I just wanna finish my homework," you tell him while slowly turning back in your chair to face your desk yet again.

Nagi blushes slightly at your words before he frowns at your chair turning back. He can't believe you're bullying him like this right now.

"Hey, no! You aren't allowed to turn back!" he immediately grabs the back of your chair and turns you around to face him, putting his hands on the arms of the chair, caging you in. On his face is a serious expression, combatting the bright pink blush coloring his skin. "I do want that stuff. Because I'm very very clingy and very very needy. So you should give all of your attention to me instead of your stupid homework."

You weren't expecting his straightforward confession, surprised at the honesty. "Okay," you bashfully respond, too flustered to come up with a proper comeback. With wide eyes, you look down to avoid looking at him.

Your boyfriend lifts an eyebrow at your shy display. It's the first time in a while that he's seen this bashful demeanor, the one and only other time being when you started dating. His lips lift ever so slightly at the sight, wanting to see your whole face. He gently grabs your chin with his pointer and thumb, and forces you to look him in the eyes.

"Looks like I said the right thing, hmm? But... I want you to say it. Say that you'll give more attention to me than your homework. Pretty please," he pleads, wanting nothing more than your undivided attention.

Your face screws up at his words before eventually settling on a pout. In a low grumble, you tell him, "I'll give you more attention than my homework."

He smiles hearing your response, and gives a smirk seeing your pout. He moves his hands to settle across your shoulders and responds to you in a teasing tone, "Was that so hard? I'm less annoying than your homework anyway."

"That's what you think," you grumble under your breath. "Whatever, help me up," you say while grabbing his hands off your shoulders and looking at him expectantly.

Nagi lets out a small scoff at your tone, while slightly walking backwards to pull you to your feet. When he makes sure you're fully standing, he wraps his arms around you again, pulling you taut against his body. Leaning down, he softly nuzzles his nose on the crown of your head and softly inhales. "You smell good," he hums out, voice muffled in your hair.

"Don't be weird, you freak," you tell him playfully while snaking your arms around his back to reciprocate his hug. You start slowly walking forward towards your bed hoping Nagi will take the hint.

His soft hums quickly turn annoyed at your words. He didn't like you calling him things like that, even jokingly. His annoyance quickly fades away, when he catches on to what you're doing and lets you guide him backward, trusting to not fall.

When you reach your bed, he quickly flops down, dragging you down with him. Nagi lets out a content sigh as you both readjust for comfort, pulling you close to him when you stop moving around.

"You happy now, Sei?" you ask him, moving your hand up to fiddle with his soft strands, before moving back down to slide under his sweatshirt.

"Mhm," he sighs into your hair, pulling you ever impossibly closer, already falling asleep in the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He won't be letting go of you anytime soon. He loves being close to you, and this is exactly what he wanted.

neneism 2024. do not copy, change, translate my works.

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ohnopeh · 2 days

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do you ever think about mandy telling ian that being with caleb was an upgrade from mickey?

i think about the look on his face and the hesitation in speaking to mandy about it. to me it’s like ian was disappointed in knowing mandy would still look down on mickey, especially considering she was there witnessing him taking care of ian and his disorder. i love that ian says i miss mickey despite him telling svetlana he’s ’done with that part of his life’ and hurting mickey in the prison scene.

i feel like that’s the moment ian’s mask slips away and he wants to be honest with mandy for a second, allowing himself to acknowledge that he does miss mickey but he broke up with him because he loves him too much.

this is why he quickly adds the ‘but’ trying to convince himself that what he has now it’s okay, he can move on. adding the bit about him surely breaking up with caleb because of him being bipolar says a lot about them too. cause ian expects caleb to leave him and he’s ‘okay’ with it. what ian knew back then too was that mickey wouldn’t have left ian, ever. he didn’t want mickey to suffer and put him through all that— after being with his mother and having to live with her and her boyfriend in their miserable state. he realised what he would have put mickey through and did what he considered the best thing for him.

he kept himself busy, building his life away from him, getting into relationships and pretending that was what he truly wanted, but then he hears about mickey being back and suddenly everything comes crashing down. all of his intense feelings, what made him feel alive, those are back.

ian not being able to sleep at night cause he kept thinking about mickey shows why he would protect himself by pretending he doesn’t care

when he meets mickey for the first time after jail, he goes straight to him to ‘fight’ and it feels like ian has never been more alive than that time. i don’t see him pretending or trying to fit into what he is not ( which is what i think he did with his other relationships as they kept judging ian for one thing or another )

when he talks to fiona at night he tells her he can’t get him out of his head, he finally admits that he’s always thought of mickey and finally seeing him led to him spiralling and all of his self control going to shit. trying to control himself not to give in, cause he’s done that so well by having mickey away from him, out of reach but he’s there now and he can’t help it.

he literally saw mickey a couple of hours before saying that and they were together for like, 5 minutes? yet that was enough for ian to feel that thrill that he tried so hard to forget and convince himself he could live without.

i love that he runs away with mickey, i love that mickey tells him ian was the only one that had his back and that not even his family did half of the shit ian did for him. how ian admits he didn’t visit because it was hard to see him through the glass, cause fuck how can he keep himself stable if everything he wants and makes him happy is so close but so far away? and then ian admitting he thought of mickey a lot, finally being honest about that.

i completely get ian not going to mexico with mickey back then, that would have been a shit show for both but i also love the fact that ian wanted to be there so that he could see with his own eyes that mickey was finally safe and once again free (in some extent).

him telling lip about running away, asking if he should have gone with mickey. like he knows he wanted to do that, he forced himself to walk away but the moment he thought lip considered them running away together a good idea, he felt hopeful and regretful cause he wanted someone else to confirm he’s not losing control but that it was ok to do, the right thing.

but monica dies right there and i can’t imagine ian being in mexico finding out about it and being so far away, not being able to go back. i feel like mickey would have blamed himself so much for that too.

things go to shit from there on and i know it’s both because of monica dying and mickey leaving. he doesn’t have the time to control himself, to shut his feelings off and put mickey in the back of his mind locked away like before. everything comes crushing down and then trevor isn’t supportive, blames him for things and gets angry at him for the whole gay jesus thing (like hello, he’s having a bipolar episode? )

i’m sure ian just couldn’t stop himself comparing the way mickey treated him, loved him and cared for him during his ups and downs— to how trevor dealt with it all. he keeps going down cause nothing makes sense anymore.

then he goes to prison, everything still sucks and it worse because he’s still recovering, still vulnerable and has to spend years in a place that’s not safe, not familiar to him. but he sees him, he sees mickey and it’s like he can breathe for the first time. he’s finally safe and he’s loved

#post #gallavich #shameless us #shameless #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #noel fisher #cameron monaghan #ian x mickey

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xxspringmelodyxx · 3 days

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That Girl’s A Liar~

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Here is part II my lovelies! Thank you all for the support and I hope you enjoy! <333 | Part I |

"One of these days, you’re going to get yourself really hurt, Toru! You need to be more careful," I scolded the white-haired boy. I wrapped the bandage around his upper arm, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than getting distracted by his shirtless body.

Earlier that day, Satoru and Suguru had been dispatched to exorcize a particularly nasty cursed spirit that had been terrorizing a nearby town. The mission was supposed to be straightforward, but things quickly took a turn for the worse. The cursed spirit, more powerful than initially anticipated, had launched a ferocious attack. In the ensuing battle, Satoru had been injured, his arm nearly severed by a brutal strike. Despite the pain, he managed to defeat the curse with Suguru's help, but not without sustaining significant injuries.

Back at the school, I waited anxiously for their return. When I saw Satoru limping back with Suguru supporting him, my heart sank. Shoko immediately took Suguru to another room to tend to his injuries, leaving me to care for Satoru.

“Relax, Y/N. Tis but a scratch. It’ll take a lot more than that to truly hurt me!” he said with a cocky smile, his confidence radiating as usual. I looked at him with a deadpan expression, unimpressed by his bravado.

“This is not just a scratch, you idiot! Your arm was almost cut off from that curse!” I retorted, my voice filled with frustration and worry.

“Still, nothing can stop me. I’m literally the strongest sorcerer here in our high school. Probably of all time, too,” he boasted, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation.

“Toru, for the last time, I don’t care if you are the strongest sorcerer in the world! You are still a human being, not some indestructible weapon! You could still... never mind,” I started, trailing off as my mind filled with the horrifying image of him getting severely hurt, even to the point of death.

Toru’s smirk quickly disappeared as he noticed the bright blue skies outside the window getting covered by dark clouds. He looked at me with genuine concern, fully aware that the sudden weather change was my doing, a manifestation of my emotional turmoil. I was losing control of my cursed technique.

“Hey…” he said, his voice softening. He placed his uninjured hand on my arm, snapping me out of my dark thoughts.

“I’m going to be okay, Y/N. You know that, right? I’m gonna be here for a long, long time,” he said, trying to reassure me. His attempt to comfort me only made my brows furrow deeper.

“That’s the thing, Toru. You don’t know that. And if you keep acting like nothing can stop or hurt you, you are going to eventually be met with a bad fate,” I said, clipping the wrap around his arm with a finality that echoed my worries.

“I… I just don’t want to see you hurt, okay?” I added, turning around to put everything away. My voice softened, betraying the depth of my feelings and the fear that gnawed at me every time he recklessly threw himself into danger.

Toru sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I get it, Y/N. I really do. It's just... this is who I am. Protecting people, fighting curses—it's what I'm meant to do. But I promise you, I'll be more careful from now on," he said, his tone earnest.

I sighed. "You better. Because if you keep scaring me like this, I might just have to find a way to tie you down and keep you safe myself," I said with a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'd like to see you try," he teased. Toru felt his body warm up as he absorbed my words. Did you really care about him that much? The thought seemed to surprise him, stirring something deep within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged before. Maybe, just maybe, you possibly felt something for him as well? Or did you mean it as a friend? These types of questions pondered his mind as you continued to put the medical supplies away.

“Okay, that should do it. Now let's get out of here before Utahime sees us,” I said, turning around to face him. As I did, I realized how close we were to each other, our faces only inches apart. The sudden proximity made my breath catch in my throat, and I could see the same surprise reflected in his eyes.

We both instantly tensed up, the proximity catching us off guard. The air between us felt charged, a silent tension simmering just below the surface. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and my heart began to race.

I quickly pulled away from him, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. “S-Sorry. I-I didn’t—” I stammered, struggling to find the right words to diffuse the awkwardness. My mind raced, trying to process the unexpected closeness and what it might mean.

“No, don’t be,” he interrupted, his voice softer, trying to compose himself. He reached out and gently touched my arm, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “I, uh, didn’t mind,” he added, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic vulnerability that took me by surprise.

Now all that was left was an awkward silence between us, the unspoken tension hanging heavily in the air. We both stood there, not knowing what to say next, the moment stretching out longer than it should have. Thankfully, a miracle happened when Suguru walked in, his presence breaking the silence and startling both Toru and me.

“Hey, you two. Shoko and I were thinking about going out for dinner tonight. You two are coming with us. I don’t care what you say. Shoko has been on my case all week saying how we need to all hang out,” Suguru said, instantly sensing the tension between us. He noticed how red Satoru had gotten, causing him to smirk.

“Well… I’ll just be waiting outside for you two when you’re ready,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Just as he began to leave, he turned to face Satoru, giving him a knowing wink.

Toru just flipped him off, trying to ignore the rapid pace of his heartbeat. “That guy,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was no real malice in his tone.

I chuckled, grateful for Suguru’s impeccable timing. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, huh?” I said, trying to ease the lingering awkwardness. My heart was still pounding from the earlier closeness, but I tried to act normal.

“Nope. But maybe it’ll be fun,” Toru replied, a hint of his usual confidence returning. He ran a hand through his hair, still looking a bit flustered. “Let’s get going before they come back and drag us out,” he added, offering a small, somewhat shy smile.

As we made our way outside, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. The unexpected closeness with Toru had stirred something in me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he felt the same.

“So, dinner, huh? Any idea where they’re planning to go?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light and avoid the tension that still lingered.

“No clue, but knowing Suguru, it’ll be somewhere decent,” Toru replied, his voice a bit more relaxed. He glanced at me, his eyes searching mine for a moment. “You okay? You seem… a bit off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly, hoping to sound convincing. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess. And, you know, you scared me today with that injury.”

Toru’s expression softened, and he reached out to touch my arm again, this time more deliberately. “I’m sorry about that. I promise I’ll be more careful. I don’t like seeing you worried,” he said, his voice sincere.

“I appreciate that, Toru. Just… take care of yourself, okay? I need my study partner with me at all times.” I joked, feeling a strange mix of relief and lingering tension.

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before we continued walking.

*****

Dinner with Suguru and Shoko turned out to be more fun than I had expected. The restaurant was a cozy place near the edge of town, known for its delicious ramen and lively atmosphere. The walls were adorned with colorful posters and fairy lights, giving the place a warm, welcoming vibe. The inviting aroma of rich broth and sizzling dishes filled the air as we walked in. Shoko was already there, waiting for us at a corner table, waving enthusiastically as soon as she spotted us.

“Hey, you two lovebirds!” she teased, her grin wide and mischievous. Both Toru and I blushed furiously, glancing at each other awkwardly.

“Cut it out, Shoko,” Toru grumbled, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. Despite his annoyance, there was a playful edge to his voice that made me smile.

As we settled in, the conversation flowed easily. Suguru recounted a hilarious story about one of their recent missions, complete with exaggerated impressions and wild gestures. Shoko chimed in with her dry wit, and soon, we were all laughing.

Despite the light-hearted atmosphere, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Toru. His laughter was infectious, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled, and every time he laughed, my heart seemed to flutter a little more. I wondered if he noticed the way I looked at him, or if he felt the same way.

At one point, Toru caught me staring and our eyes locked for a moment longer than usual. I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up. Did he know what I was feeling? Did he feel it too?

“You okay?” Toru asked, his voice soft and concerned. He leaned in slightly, his presence calming yet thrilling.

“Yeah, just thinking,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “This place is really nice. Thanks for bringing us here, Shoko.”

“Anytime,” Shoko said with a wink. “I knew we all needed a break. Plus, watching you two dance around each other is the best entertainment.”

“Shoko!” I exclaimed, my face growing even hotter.

“Well, it’s true,” Suguru added with a smirk. “You two have been acting strange ever since we got here. Just saying.”

Toru cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s just enjoy the food, okay?”

We all laughed, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. As the night wore on, the laughter and camaraderie made me feel more at ease.

Midway through the meal, I excused myself to go to the restroom. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to steady my racing heart. Why was it so hard to just tell him how I felt? Every time I thought I had the courage, something held me back. Maybe it was fear of rejection, or perhaps the worry that it would change everything between us.

When I returned to the table, I saw Aksana entering the restaurant. She was hard to miss with her striking blond hair and confident stride. As soon as she spotted us, her eyes lit up, and she made a beeline for our table, her gaze zeroing in on Toru.

“Hey, Satoru!” she greeted, her voice overly sweet and completely ignoring the rest of us.

“Aksana,” he acknowledged her with a nod. His usually bright eyes seemed a touch colder, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was annoyed by her sudden appearance.

“Mind if I join you guys?” she asked, not waiting for a response before pulling up a chair next to Toru. She slid into the seat, her proximity to him making my stomach churn.

Suguru and Shoko exchanged glances, sensing the tension immediately. Suguru raised an eyebrow at me, while Shoko gave a small, sympathetic smile. I tried to focus on my food, but Aksana’s presence made it difficult. She leaned in close to Toru, laughing at his jokes in an exaggerated manner and touching his arm whenever she got the chance.

“So, Toru, I heard you had a pretty intense mission today,” Aksana said, her voice dripping with false concern. “You must be exhausted. Maybe I could help you relax later?”

Toru shifted uncomfortably, clearly not enjoying the attention. “I’m fine, really,” he replied, trying to gently brush her off. “Just needed some time with my friends.”

“Oh, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed you for a bit,” she insisted, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Right, Y/n?”

I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Actually, Aksana, we were in the middle of something. Maybe another time?”

Aksana’s eyes flicked to me with what seemed to be disgust, her smile faltering for a split second before she regained her composure. “Oh, of course. I just thought Satoru might like a change of company.”

Suguru, sensing the rising tension, decided to step in. “Actually, we’re all having a really good time together. It’s been a while since we all hung out like this.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, adding, “Yeah, I’ve been wanting us all to hang out again, so tonight seemed like a good night to do so.”

Aksana’s smile was tight, clearly masking her irritation. “Oh, well then, don’t mind me. I’ll just be sitting here, listening to your stories.” Her tone was overly sweet, but the fake smile gave her away.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The food was delicious, and the conversation lively, but Aksana’s presence cast a shadow over the fun. She kept trying to insert herself into our conversations, making pointed comments and giving Toru lingering looks. I even almost lost control of my cursed technique because she kept hugging his arm. And by that I mean the winds started to pick up like crazy outside, causing the doors to blow open, which startled a lot of people. Shoko thankfully brought me back to my senses, but it was still so aggravating to see Aksana practically throw herself on Toru. By the time we left the restaurant, I was feeling more confused and frustrated than ever.

Toru walked me home, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. The night air was cool, and I could feel the tension building with every step. Finally, we reached my doorstep. I turned to him, searching for the right words to express my feelings.

“Toru, I…” I began, my voice trailing off as I looked into his deep blue eyes.

“Yeah?” he prompted, his gaze fixed on mine, full of curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place.

Before I could continue, my phone buzzed with a message from Kai. He needed help with the science project again.

Damnit, I forgot we needed to start working on that.

I recalled the scene vividly, etched into my memory like a photograph frozen in time. The classroom hummed with nervousness as Mr. Takahashi dropped the bombshell: a major science project due at the end of the semester…two months away.

—flashback—

“Y/n, you’ll be partnered with Kai,” Sensei Takahashi announced, gesturing towards Kai who was grinning nervously.

Kai’s eyes met mine briefly, and I could sense his relief mixed with a tinge of apprehension. “Looks like it’s you and me,” I said, offering a reassuring smile to calm his nerves.

“Yeah, for the next four months,” Kai replied, his voice tinged with what seemed to be disappointment. I looked towards him and found his eyes looking at someone else. I followed his gaze and saw him staring at another girl in our class, Amai, his expression softening with admiration.

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as I noticed Kai's subtle admiration for Amai. It was clear that he had a crush on her, which I thought was adorable.

"W-What?" he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught.

"Nothing, just thinking," I replied casually, suppressing a smile as I reached for a pencil and paper.

"Now, let's start brainstorming some ideas. What do you think we should do our project over?" I initiated, launching into a discussion about potential topics. Despite the distraction of Kai's crush, we delved into a detailed exchange of ideas, weighing the pros and cons of each suggestion.

—end of flashback—

I sighed, feeling torn between my responsibilities and my emotions. This moment was slipping away, just like so many others.

“Never mind,” I said, forcing a smile to hide my disappointment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Toru nodded, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes that mirrored my own feelings. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if I had just spoken up. Would he have understood? Would it have changed anything? The weight of my unspoken feelings pressed heavily on my heart. I turned and went inside, trying to shake off the lingering frustration.

That night, as I lay in bed, my mind replayed the evening’s events over and over. Aksana’s blatant attempts to get Toru’s attention, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at me, and the unspoken words that hung between us. It was all too much to process, and sleep came slowly.

*****

The next day at school, I was determined to talk to Toru, to finally clear the air between us. The tension that we had yesterday had been gnawing at me all night, and I couldn't bear another day of uncertainty. I spotted him near his locker, and with a deep breath, I began to make my way over.

As I approached, I noticed Aksana was already there, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

”Oh Toru, you’re really a great guy!” She praised, spotting me in the distance. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she continued to talk to him.

“You know, I actually need help with my homework and I was wondering if you could help me with it now since we have some free time?” She asked. As Toru was about to answer, he spotted you in the corner of his eye and turned towards you, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips, making my heart flutter with anticipation.

I smiled back and quickened my pace, but just as I was about to reach him, Kai stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Y/N, I need to talk to you about something," Kai said urgently, his voice low. Toru's smile faded slightly as he noticed the interruption.

"Well, actually Kai, I'm kind of in the middle of something important," I replied, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

"Please, Y/N. It’s about Amai," Kai insisted, his eyes pleading. He leaned in closer, ensuring our conversation remained private. "I need your help."

Confusion flickered across my face as I looked up at him. Meanwhile, Toru's eyes narrowed, a twinge of jealousy evident as he watched us.

"What's going on, Kai?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite the awkward timing.

Kai glanced around nervously before speaking. "I want to ask Amai to the dance, but I have no idea how to do it. I need your help to get to know her better."

I smiled softly at him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Toru's jaw clenched subtly at the sight. "Kai, the dance is still a while away. You have plenty of time to get to know her," I said, trying to calm his nerves.

"But that's the problem. I'm so nervous around her. I need someone to be there when I talk to her. Please, be my wingman," Kai pleaded, his desperation clear. He grabbed my hands, his earnestness almost palpable.

Toru's gaze darkened at the intimate gesture, his jealousy simmering just below the surface. I nodded towards Kai, deciding to help him after I got talk to Toru.

"Okay, I'll help you," I said, squeezing Kai's hands briefly before pulling away. "But wait here for a moment, I need to handle something first."

Before I could take another step, I saw Aksana grab Toru’s arm, her voice still bright and cheerful. “So, Toru, about that homework…” she trailed off, leading him away. My heart clenched slightly as I watched them walk off together.

"Y/N? Is everything alright?" Kai asked, his concern evident.

I sighed, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over me. "Yeah, let's just go," I replied, my voice heavy with frustration. The chance to clear things up with Toru had slipped away again.

*****

"Wait, I need to talk to—" Toru started, quickly removing Aksana's hand from his arm. He turned around, his eyes searching for me, but he was too late. I was already walking away with Kai.

"Are you alright, Toru? You seem tense," Aksana asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed the change in Toru's demeanor.

Toru forced a smile, trying to mask his frustration. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about some stuff," he replied vaguely, his gaze lingering where I had disappeared with Kai. The sight of me with someone else stirred a mix of regret and irritation within him.

Aksana's eyes followed his, her brow furrowing slightly. "Is everything okay between you two?" she asked gently, her voice soft. Aksana knew what she was doing. She feigned concern, but inside, she relished the friction between us. It was her chance to step in and take my place.

Toru hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's... complicated," he admitted reluctantly, his thoughts still consumed by my departure with Kai. The unresolved tension gnawed at him, leaving him unsettled.

Aksana nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here," she offered, placing a hand on his arm. He quickly removed it, the touch making him uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Aksana," he said, forcing a polite smile. His mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of you, and the conversation he desperately wanted to have.

“So, shall we go to that small little cafe and you can help me with the homework?” She asked.

"Sorry…I gotta go," he added abruptly, his voice strained. Leaving Aksana behind, he walked away, his emotions in turmoil. He needed to clear his head and find a way to resolve the growing tension between you two.

Aksana huffed as she watched the white haired boy leave her alone in the school hallway. She tapped her foot, folding her arms together as if she were in thought.

“Looks like I need to play harder…”

____________

Part III coming soon!

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helaintoloki · 3 days

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Relenting

pairing: sparrow!ben x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death, sparrow!ben is an asshole as usual, some fluff if you squint

notes: haven’t posted on this blog in forever but the new teaser brought me back from the dead so here’s this

summary: the world is ending and ben thinks it’s time to enjoy what’s left of it

You swirl the glass of champagne in your hand and watch as the alcohol begins to whirl around the cup. There’s a slight breeze in the air, but it’s warm and strangely comforting despite the current circumstances. The music from inside faintly reaches your ears out on the balcony, and though you feel slightly guilty for missing out on such a momentous occasion for Luther and Sloane, you can’t bring yourself to go back inside. What’s the point? Your time on this earth is limited, dwindling with each second that passes, so why bother trying to act like it isn’t.

An unwelcome presence joins your sulking figure outside, and you don’t even bother to spare him a passing glance. You think you hate him, or at least you want to hate him, but it’s hard to despise the man who shares the face of your long lost love. Blame it on nostalgia or pathetic longing, but there’s still some small part of you that believes he could be just like the boy you knew and loved in your youth, even if he hasn’t shown it at all in the time you’ve gotten to know him.

Finally acknowledging his presence, you take a swig of your champagne before retorting, “Don’t you have to go be an asshole somewhere else?”

“You’re hilarious,” he replies in a deadpan tone, and you don’t have to look at him to see that he’s rolling his eyes in annoyance. You like how easily you get under his skin, and his sarcastic remark prompts the smallest quirk of your lips.

“Yeah?” You reiterate with a small shrug, eager to push his buttons in any way you can. “My Ben used to think so too.”

“Would you shut up about ‘your’ Ben, already? It’s pathetic,” He snaps in irritation, obviously set off by your remarks. “All you do is whine and complain about what a jerk I am instead of realizing I could help you out if you’d just help me.”

“By pretending to be your dead girlfriend? No thanks,” you scoff with a wry laugh before downing the rest of your drink. It burns your throat, but the discomfort is almost soothing in a way. It’s a type of pain you can control and inflict upon yourself out of your own volition. You haven’t been in control of anything since becoming wrapped up in all this apocalypse time travel nonsense, and you grapple for any semblance of it whenever possible.

“It’s not pretending if you technically are her,” the Sparrow insists adamantly, faltering for a moment as he adds under his breath, “albeit a more whiney and uptight version of her.”

He immediately ducks when you chuck your glass in his direction, narrowly missing his head in the process. You wish you had Diego’s precision so you could hit the desired target of his face, but the look of bewilderment on his features is good enough for now. You wordlessly turn to head back inside and rejoin the wedding festivities, because forcing yourself to act like attending wedding at the end of the world is normal is much better than spending another second out here with him, but his firm grip on your wrist halts your movements. If you really wanted to you could break free from his hold, you’re a better fighter than he is and you could easily use your abilities to overpower him, but you make no attempt to do so. The touch is familiar, comforting despite how hard you try to deny it, and you’d like to savor it even if it’s not right.

“The world is ending, and there’s no going back,” he reminds you, the gentleness of his voice almost scaring you. It’s a jarring contrast from the usual sharpness that he speaks to you with, and you’re not sure if it disgusts or comforts you. He sounds like your Ben now, and the realization prompts your breath to hitch in your throat.

“What do you want from me?” You demand with a lack of conviction, your previous confidence dwindling as you morph back into that same scared little girl who once thought she could never survive without the boy she loved.

“I want to spend whatever time I have left on this shit hole with my y/n, even though I know it’s not really her,” the Sparrow relents in defeat as he comes to terms with his fate. “Don’t you want to spend one last night with Ben?”

You remain silent, your lips held together in a firm line and your brows creased in thought as you digest his words. This man is not yours, not even close, but he belonged to another version of you in this timeline, a version that is currently buried six feet underground. This entire time you’ve done your best to fight the urge to give in to him, to let yourself play pretend with the Sparrow and act as if tragedy had never struck the Umbrella Academy. With the world coming to an end, did it really matter now if you finally relented to his pleas? Didn’t you deserve to be happy, too?

Taking your silence as rejection, Ben slowly begins to release his hold on you. However, he’s taken by surprise when you immediately throw yourself into his embrace and pull his face towards you for a kiss. He doesn’t notice the tears that streak down your cheeks or the way your hands tremble as you cup his face; he’s too busy savoring the taste of something that had been taken from his years ago.

As he wraps his arms tighter around your waist, he determines that this time around, he’s not letting go.

#oh my god i haven’t written anything tua related in years #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves #sparrow!ben #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #sparrow!ben x reader #sparrow!ben imagine #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #sparrow academy

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fatuismooches · 23 hours

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I feel like fragile!reader would be genuinely upset with how literally none of the segments spend time with them. Or even try to make time with them. Especially Prime. Like, there's like 20+ of them, not even 1 can spend at least 15 minutes with them? Me, personally, I wouldn't leave my lover to fend off with themselves after 400+ years of silence. Maybe that's just me though...

Oh fragile reader would absolutely be crushed. In the beginning, you would be delighted by all the attention you got, considering you just woke up. But as time goes by, it slowly changes. Obviously, you know that the segments have a lot of work to do, and you don't expect them to spend hours with you, but there are days you struggle to even get ten minutes of attention. Yes, you know they're busy, their research is incredibly engrossing, they have a lot on their plate, but you were their lover. The one who loved them above anything else, and the one they loved more than anything too, well, supposedly.

Their actions just don't show it sometimes, and it hurts you. You're confined to your body, to the lab, you're not like them. Sure, you have some things to keep you occupied, but you aren't free to do what you want, because you literally can't. That's why their company is so desperately important to you, but it seems like you're cursed enough to not even receive that. Prime has no place to talk because he does the same thing as them at times. You love them so, so much, and you do acknowledge how much work they have but... it sincerely gets to you and yet they seem not to understand. Yeah, you love burying yourself into one of your interests, but you need interaction from time to time, something that's sorely different from Dottore.

The only segment that always has time for you is Zandy of course, and while you love him dearly, you just wish you could spend some more time with one of your lovers. I imagine you start finding a lot of solace in your Harbinger friends, like Bina, Pantalone, and Childe, because for some reason despite how busy they are too, whenever they come over, they always make an effort to speak with you. Columbina often visits solely for you. You tell her all about your feelings and she comforts you, without interrupting or brushing you off. The segments would start getting annoyed by how happy you are around them, until you snap that they actually make time for you unlike them (argument time.)

You don't expect Dottore or the segments to be perfect lovers. You just expect them to try, because Tsaritsa knows how much you've tried for them.

(This would make for a really good angst fic, but I don't think I have the heart to write it.)

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #u are right anon!!! 🗣 we need reader to snap at them and then go live at columbinas for a while #is this a good time to say i hc there to be abt 12 segments #i say this bc i want to love and build a relationship with all and i think id die by having to deal with 20+ ppl

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chaifootsteps · 3 days

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while it's nice to see Vivzie finally acknowledge Stella is worthy of pity 'in her own way' (something about the phrasing on that tweet rubs me the wrong way tbh, feels like they're implying her pain is like less important or valid or something? might just be me) it's kind of frustrating to see the end of the tweet say 'that doesn't absolve her of the pain she's caused', because like

I haven't seen many people making that argument, tbh?

like sure there are Stella stans who unironically say she was in the right to order a hit on him and it's fair retribution, but I don't think they're the majority

the majority of fans & former fans I've seen are just frustrated at how much of a caricature Stella is; as a portrait of an abuser she's incredibly poorly done and as an intended Hate Sink with no redeeming qualities she's frustrating because her backstory is just as tragic as Stolas', arguably more so because she has way less power & social mobility than him yet we're supposed to treat her like an irreedemable monster because the writers decided she was evil since birth.

I don't pity her because I like her or because I excuse anything she's said or done to Stolas. I pity her because I look at her backstory and can easily imagine how much of a nightmare her life is & how the fandom only ever seems to consider the 'arranged marriage' part of it and not the laundry list of other things that are awful about Stella's life. And I pity her because she reminds me of people IRL - mostly women - who are stuck in awful circumstances then are victimized twice by people who, if they even recognize the circumstances are bad, don't care about how that influences the person they currently are or why they behave in ways that seem inexplicable to us

for example the whole Stella likes throwing parties thing. we're obviously supposed to take it as a sign she's vapid and shallow, but what else is she supposed to do? at least if she throws parties misery can have company & her friends can visit. We see Stolas make fun of her for not knowing how to spell, but was she ever expected to be literate or allowed to have interests outside of raising a child she didn't want? the show just doesn't care to answer what society looks like for someone in her position. her interests only matter insofar as they provide a vector for the viewer to hate her some more

(going back to the recent discussions around MLP it's so noticeable they went out of their way to avoid 'stereotypical feminine interest = worthy of scorn' by having Rarity & Pinkie's interests be fashion and parties and the rest of the cast being chill about that even if they don't share that enthusiasm)

I know there are some proposed fix it scenarios in your inbox that often throw in 'and then Striker kills Stolas' as a closer but like even those don't sound like they approve of Stella or anything she does. far as I can tell they just hate Stolas and are tired of him because the show keeps insisting he's a perfect angel who never means to hurt anyone so that makes it OK. there's no chance of getting any catharsis seeing Blitzo or anyone else stand up to him, so we have to imagine it. It's even more galling considering Stella keeps most of her ire focused on Stolas whereas Stolas is exploiting and gaslighting a member of the lower classes. I mean at least Stella seems to have no delusions about who or what she is, she knows she's being awful and she revels in it. Stolas meanwhile is in total delusion about who he is and what he's done & the show is running out of chances to fix that

so like yeah, nothing Stella has suffered absolves her of her treatment of Stolas. But that exact logic applies to Stolas, too, yet the show wants us to show him more than pity - it expects us to like and empathize with him while he frees Blitzo from sexual slavery mainly because he feels entitled to love & affection that he's not getting and was never owed

That's what it boils down to, really. Stella's not allowed a free pass, while Stolas is allowed to hurt whoever he wants for any reason.

#Anonymous #actual blog post #helluva boss critical #viv stuff

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harkonnen-darkness · 2 days

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- 𝐀 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Words: ca. 3k

Warnings: Feyd being sick and manipulative, dark & soft Feyd, body contact, sexual intentions, he wants you on his side, you being scared, bed-stuff -> clit biting etc.

Sharing is deactivated for now, because it hasn't been corrected yet. But since I couldn't publish it yesterday, I'm doing it now.

- The complete chapter will be online next week! 🖤🙏🏻

To be honest, I don't know yet whether this scenario will take place in chapter I or II, as chapter I would otherwise be very very long.

There you were again lying on your back on his pleasantly soft bed and you had to think for a moment about how it had come to this again. Your eyes looked fearfully at the cold ceiling of the room as you heard his calm and dangerous words and the pressure on your neck increased. Your panic was so great that not a word escaped your lips. Not one sound. Nothing. You felt his soft lips lightly touching your ear and then his teeth biting teasingly into your earlobe. First gently and then a little more firmly. Your body stiffened under his ever tightening grip on your neck. Slowly, you realized how serious the situation was, and though part of you was screaming for her to just let the Harkonnen continue, the 'good' part of you stirred, so you began to struggle against his iron grip as you wrapped your hand around his wrist. Feyd, whose other hand had begun to run tenderly up and down your body while his right hand continued to lightly cut off your air supply, noticed your attempt to break free. He let go of your ear and acknowledged your intentions with a cold, soft laugh, which gave you goose bumps as he looked directly into your eyes. You looked at him hopefully. You hoped that he would let go of you and not hurt you. That he would teach you a lesson with words and then let you go. Or...

"Ohh, why are you looking at me so wistfully? It's your own fault, that you're in this situation!", Feyd said indignantly, looked at you with a serious expression and shook his head slightly. A few seconds later, a devilish smile crept onto his features, his gaze amused again. A cold shiver ran down your spine when you saw his look and knew that he was now thinking of a way to punish you for your disrespectful behavior. "Just let go of me. I apologized and made your uncle an offer, which he accepted.", you tried to quietly convince him to let you go as you tried to free yourself from his strong grip one more time. But with every word you said, his smile widened. He leaned down to your face again so that the tip of his nose touched yours. His warm breath brushed your lips and involuntarily you felt the urge to lift your head slightly and touch his lips to yours. However, you quickly discarded the idea when he tightened his grip once more, making it harder and harder for you to breathe. A soft gasp escaped you. He laughed softly and moved his other hand to your face, touching it lightly with his fingertips. He slowly traced your contours. "I'm going to tell you a little secret about yourself, sweet [y/n]." He began to kiss you, promisingly, and lowered his lips to your ear again. Goosebumps formed on your skin again as you felt his breath as you heard his whispered words, "Mhmm... you won't tell anyone about this because you don't want to lose me. No... your life would be so boring without me. You need me, you pretty thing!"

Your breath hitched as you realized what he had just said and all your insides tightened. He was right. He was so damn right! How could it be that a man, a man like him, was interesting in you after only so few days?

You flinched as you realized the Harkonnen's lips were touching your cheek. "Oh, don't. Don't cry, [y/n]. I could be there for you whenever you want. If you stay!", he said softly and seductively as he kissed away the tears that had just left your eye. You didn't even realize you'd started crying. "Please... Please, Feyd. Let go of me.", you pleaded softly as pure fear made your limbs go limp and you hung in his grip. Egged on by your begging, Feyd growled softly, content as he rested his head on your chest and paused his caresses. "Oh yes, I like your pleading. Keep going!", he reinforced his words by pressing himself even closer to your body, so that your body only responded with a restless trembling. Feyd laughed throatily and slowly rose off you again so that he was kneeling over you with his legs apart. His hand still resting on your neck, he eyed you seriously, tilting his head. You warrior looked at him with wide eyes and suppressed the trembling as best you could, while you had to concentrate hard to breathe, as he had not loosened his hand and every breath was a small challenge. Nevertheless, you were sure that he would not murder you. He enjoyed this power game too much for that. And you wouldn't do him any good being dead. That would be against his ideas with you. Still, he could hurt you.

Hurt you terribly.

He was not feared and respected in equal measure for no reason. More tears welled up in your eyes. You pressed your lips together to stifle a whimper, but it didn't go unnoticed by him. He grinned at you, his blackened teeth flashing briefly in the dim light. "You're cheeky, young lady! How are you and I supposed to concentrate when you're lying so seductively on my bed, huh?" As he spoke to you, his hand moved once more to your face and his delicate fingers touched your lips. He stroked your lower lip delicately with his thumb, his eyes fixed on it. His gaze darkened, but his grip on your neck loosened a little. You dared to look him in the eyes. He suddenly seemed far removed from the here and now as he lightly caressed your lips and briefly you relaxed, trying to find a way out of the situation.

He wouldn't kill you. That was a good thing. Maybe you should just play along with his game? Because that's what it was for him, a game.

His game.

He wanted to play with you and he wanted to win. Maybe you should give him that?

The victory.

You regained your courage when your lips breathed a light kiss on his fingertips as he began to trace the contours of your lips again. You looked shyly into his astonished blue eyes, but they quickly recovered and looked at you darkly. Dark and seductive. The slight smile remained on his lips as he licked them briefly, tilted his head once more and slowly began to speak. "What was that? You're not enjoying this, are you? Maybe your punishment should be harsher, huh? What do you think? A little... little... harder!" When your eyes widened once more at the shock, he pressed one side of your face into the thick pillows and laughed again, softly and harshly. "I want my pleasure too!" His hand slipped from your lips and gently stroked your face, passing his other hand around your neck and resting on your collarbone, which he stroked lightly. His gaze was on your angry face at first, sneering at you. His fingers quickly found the opening of your waist belt, fingered it open lightly and his gaze slid down. Underneath your kimono, you were wearing a black jumpsuit that he hadn't seen on you yet. "Mh-hm.", he made interested and let his fingers glide slowly over the soft fabric. From your breasts, over your stomach. You inevitably began to tremble. Tears of anger and fear came to your eyes. Anger because you seemed weak and fear because you couldn't help yourself. And as much as you wanted to, you couldn't tear yourself away because part of your body was enjoying his touch. He wasn't like the man who had raped you just a few days ago. Although it looked like it was going to be the same, or at least similar. But his words from yesterday still lingered in your mind. He wouldn't be inside you. Because he thought you were a virgin. He didn't want you to get into trouble. Because of him. And yet you hoped, no, you prayed that he would touch you, like last night. As strangely gentle as you never thought he would be. But what if you weren't? Feyd laughed softly again as he felt your body stiffen beneath him. "What are you thinking about, warrior?", he asked you as he gripped the O-ring of the zipper with one finger, pulled on it. The jumpsuit was similar to your training clothes. There was a zipper on the front that went right up to your most private area. When the deep sound of metal rang out as he slowly opened it, your breath caught again. His eyes were narrowed into a slit. He watched your body like a predator. Oh, what did you wear underneath? At the sight of your skin, he had to pause for a moment and take another closer look at the woman beneath him. It had been a long time since he had seen such a beautiful and interesting female, like you. He didn't care much for interpersonal contact, nor did he care much for his whores. His darlings should do what he wanted and be there to satisfy his urges. He liked his three harpies, they were important to him. But he felt differently towards you. Yes, he also liked you, but in a different way. And this one was completely unknown to him. Unfortunately, you petite thing under him were different. He didn't want you just for pleasure and then finish you off with a merciful slit across your throat or some such action. No. He wanted to enjoy it all with you. Together.

He shook his head to get rid of these serious thoughts and enjoy the situation more. Who knew when you would be disturbed again. He glanced briefly at your face and realized with satisfaction that you were looking at him in awe. Feyd smiled darkly, satisfied, and turned his attention back to the zipper. He was surprised to see that you weren't wearing a bra under the fabric again. Good, you didn't need it either. "[Y/n]...", he breathed thoughtfully. You closed your eyes anxiously and cried softly as you felt him slowly bend down to your neck. "Mhh... Warrior [y/n] [y/l/n]." Like a tasty candy, he savored your name on his tongue, repeating it over and over. He paused for a moment in this situation, so you took advantage of this and opened your eyes. You look at his light-colored fingers, which had a firm grip on the O-ring. Maybe he was distracted enough? You tried to move slightly to the side, which only caused the Harkonnen to tighten his grip on your neck painfully and you were about to gasp for air when a dark growl left his throat and he looked at you admonishingly. His eyes bored into yours. You swallowed. No matter what he was doing now, he didn't want to be disturbed. When he realized you had understood, he glanced back down at the exposed skin between your breasts. He suddenly lowered his head and put his ear to your heart. Oh, how fast and hard it throbbed - just because of him. Minutes passed, during which Feyd listened to your heartbeat as if spellbound, whispering your name softly over and over again. His other hand had found its way under the kimono and was caressing your ribs, which he could feel under the jumpsuit. "You have a strong heart.", he whispered. Yes, it was meant to be a compliment. He found it so pleasant to listen to the rhythm. There was something hypnotizing and reassuring about it. He had heard many hearts beat, but there was something about yours that he found more interesting than others.

He wanted to own it.

Your breathing had calmed down a little as he lay there and you noticed, out of nowhere, a pleasant feeling in your stomach area as you became aware of his, now calm, closeness. A slight blush formed on your cheeks. What was he doing to you? Even with his firm hands on your body, which had done so much damage, you felt comfortable and safe. A small smile crept onto your pretty lips at the thought, but it was interrupted and gave way to a look of confusion as you felt Feyd move. He put his hands on your hips and stood up with you. Too shocked by this quick and abrupt action, you unintentionally allowed him to press your upper body roughly against the noble bed wall. You felt the slight pain as your head hit the hard stone wall, closed your eyes and gasped softly in pain. One hand on your hip, the other firmly on your shoulder so that you couldn't move. He pressed his body hard against yours, making it impossible for you to escape his iron grip. If he was just a little gentler, like last night, would you even want it then, you wondered. What would happen to you if you complied with his request and stayed on Giedi Prime?

Overwhelmed by the situation, you looked at him out of wide eyes as you opened your mouth to say something. However, you were interrupted by his admonishing look. "Ah, ah! Keep your pretty mouth shut unless you're asked." You quickly closed your lips again. Another satisfied grin appeared on his hard features. Feyd leaned his head closer to you so that your mouths were only millimeters apart again. He smiled, this time gently and not sinisterly, as he looked into your beautiful eyes and felt her body against his. Oh yes, he would have a lot of fun with you... if you stayed. With that beauty of a warrior. He laughed briefly to himself. One look into your eyes told him that you were struggling with yourself. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.", he whispered with pleasure against your lips, lifted his hand and placed it on your cheek. You shuddered under the gentle touch and pressed your body closer to his as far as you could. It didn't go unnoticed and another pleasant rumble could be heard from him as he gazed sensually into your sparkling eyes. The tears had disappeared, but they were still shining. "Say it!", he demanded softly, dangerously, and yet so incredibly beautiful.

Dazed by his sensual scent, his closeness, his voice and his strong presence, you realized once again how your mind slipped away and you brought your lips closer to his. They were almost touching when you looked earnestly into his greedy eyes and recognized the longing in them. Did he really like you? Or did he just want your body? Would he go to all this trouble otherwise? Tell you that his concubines didn't sleep in his bed like you did? Would he tell you otherwise that he wanted you in exchange for the Harkonnen you had killed today? Would he otherwise want you to stay here, with him?

A soft whisper, but he understood.

"You."

A satisfied growl escaped his lips as he pressed them hard against yours and your mouths merged into his desperate, passionate and longing kiss. You pressed further against him, trying to be even closer to his body and feel him even more. Feyd did the same, digging his fingers into your clothes, pulling you onto his lap and pouring everything he had felt for you since last night at the latest into this one kiss: a desire, far too deep. He tenderly bit your lower lip, causing you to moan into the kiss and he took the opportunity to let his tongue explore your mouth. He nudged your tongue and a small fight broke out between you, which of course the Harkonnen won. His warm, strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back onto the mattress. Your head lay comfortably on the soft pillows. Oh, you didn't want to let go of him. His muscle-bound arms and you around him felt so safe. He broke away from your lips to caress your neck, remembering your words yesterday to leave no marks. Even though he wanted so much to feel and taste your blood on his tongue. He would give so much for it. But he wouldn't have it. Not today.

Your eyes were half closed, your lips slightly parted, your cheeks flushed and your breathing erratic as he kissed his way further down. To the exposed skin between your breasts. He opened the zipper completely, pulling the fabric from your shoulders so that your upper body lay naked beneath him. Tenderly, his fingers stroked your breasts, your stomach and wrapped firmly around your waist. His lips were stormy and so gentle at the same time. Your hands wrapped around his muscular shoulders, feeling the warm skin. You flinched slightly as his teeth closed around your nipples, nibbling at the darker skin. His tongue was scorching hot as he ran it over your skin, up your neck. His breath, also hot now, brushed over your ear and gave you goose bumps. The actually murderous warrior spread gentle kisses on your face and purred. Satisfied with what just happened. "Why me?" However, it suddenly escaped you. A thought that you had unintentionally spoken aloud. Feyd, however, answered immediately. "Because I've never met a female like you. I only know servants, whores, I've heard of Bene Gesserit witches. But a useful warrior?" Feyd paused for a moment. "So precious!" He slipped back to remove the jumpsuit completely from your body. Black panties covered your skin around your hips and another animalistic growl escaped his throat as he remembered that sweet nectar on your skin. But this time he didn't just push the fabric between your legs aside, he pulled it off your body straight away. You lay there completely naked, suddenly feeling helpless. He kissed one of your knees, never taking his eyes off your exposed core. (Just as an aside, he wouldn't care if you had a shaved hairstyle or if all your hair gone. Pussy is pussy.) His fingers stroked the thin skin on the inside of your thighs and gave you a shiver that ran through your whole body. He stroked your outer, warm labia with his index and middle fingers. You were aroused, but not enough for his taste. Your body would first have to learn how to react to his touch. With a growl, he leaned down and kissed your mound of Venus, biting into your pearl. "Ouch!", you let out a quiet gasp and Feyd's warm hand layed on your stomach. As a sign that you shouldn't move from the spot. "Stay where you are or I'm gonna kill you now!", he warned. You could feel his hot breath on your equally hot skin. Now he threatened to kill you, didn't he?

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha dune #dune part two #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dark aesthetic #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen smut

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kiefbowl · 2 days

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this is a random thought I had in the shower actually well over a month ago, but I've been gnawing at it in my brain...and perhaps this is going to sound pathetic and a bit esoteric.

So, it suddenly dawned on me very randomly while I was showering that I have been paying for netflix for my own account since I was a freshman in college. Back in the dvd days, I remember having Firefly sent to me disk by disk my fall semester. This is 2009. It was an important part of college because I let my friends use it on their console and we'd all go to their dorm and watch streaming, and I passed out my log in to a ton of friends. I basically provided free Netflix to more or less 10 or so people over the course of four years for not even $7 a month I think.

What hit me though was that means, this year - that will be 15 years. That's what stopped me in my shower to stare off in the abyss for like 10 minutes and what's been on my mind for the past several weeks. I've been paying netflix for 15 years, which is the longest I've ever done anything. There is no other company I've so consistently paid for like this either, not for that many of years not even close. Quite possibly my longest relationship outside of my family and 2-3 other people. Netflix, the ever constant, of all forsaken things.

And what really bothers me about it is that, uhm, not to be an American consumer but like...I don't feel appreciated by netflix. For the past few years, I've barely used it, except for a few titles I've wanted to watch. I haven't passed out my log in since I changed it not long after college to keep an ex using it for free. I've remained loyal, despite the fact that I don't feel like some sort of loyal consumerist. I don't give a fuck about brands, I try to shop as little as possible, thrift what I can. And yet, what can I say? I actually am a loyal consumerist, to netflix that is.

What a shock to realize this, and what a shock to realize netflix does not acknowledge this, no email saying thanks, no surveys, no swag, no pizza party, no invite no perk no discount no nothing. Instead they raise prices, cut services, lose licenses, and cancel barely finished products. I'm 15 years loyal to this company for this?

And I think about the days of yore, but really not long ago. The preferred shopper's catalogues of department stores, the longtime shopper promotions of industry giants, the award systems for the loyal consumerists of chains and malls. The specialty Christmas items that are today vintage and worth money for their rarity. The thank yous, the special events. The mailers that say "Come to our store loyal customer and receive a free $20 coupon for that day!" And I'm not saying this is good, and of course it's all just marketing and advertisement, and I'm not saying this is the life I want to live...

But I am saying this would be easy for netflix to do, for someone like me. Someone who went from $7 to stream and receive DVDs, who got customers onboard when the model was new and the company was pioneering, to $20 to sit unused but for a month or two out of the year. It would be easy to pull the data. It would be easy to say which accounts have been opened the longest, to actually verify who has given 180 months worth of payments to them. It would be easy to give me a year's discount to say thank you. It would be easy for them to send an email to verify my address to send me merch. Do I want the merch? No, not really. But have they tried?

Have they even sent me an email saying "We appreciate your 15 years of support! We value you!" with little confetti animation? They didn't do it at 10 years. They didn't do it at 5 years. I don't recall ever receiving emails from netflix besides "Unfortunately, our payment model is changing."

As of today, I haven't pulled my account yet. I want to finish Bridgerton, even if this season is a snoozefest. But I think I will. I feel had and used, as pathetic as that sounds. Has Hulu done anything different? I can't remember when I signed up for them but it's been many years. No, but I frankly use it more, so I'm less angry. And with netflix...it's been fifteen years. They have really banked on us being passive in our payments, and accustomed to the freedom of endless choice, and it just feels gleeful that they never even once acknowledged I've been here this whole time. Actually, act like Sears and Bloomingdales 60 years ago, or we quit I think we should say. Ask me my address to send me a glass netflix mug or I'll fuck off, because who do you think you are to think so little of me, the only reason you exist for?

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wrinkly-fucking-qtip · 2 days

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Mickey vs I Love You

Against popular opinion, I do believe Mickey's "I love you" in 5x06 was the first time he ever said it. Let me explain.

His type of hesitancy with the phrase is not that of fear out of someone listening. No. It seems to me, he noticed Svetlana was in his shared space after he says "I love you" and does a double take when finishing the voice note with "call me back." While I do like to think that he could've said his first "I love you" somewhere within the aftermath of 4x11 and early s5, the only reason I don't think that is because it feels too easy... I think Mickey was too in his head in the aftermath, thinking of how fucked this all turned out. The baptism, the coming out, the brawl, them returning home to wash themselves clean, the sex (implied because they wake up naked together the morning after) it's too much...

Such an admission would be lethal for his brain chemistry at the moment. "I love you" is the peak of vulnerability, where he already is painfully aware of everything he has endured, on top of being completely aware of his feelings to the point of unease, like clothes sticking to your skin. Suddenly you know the shirt there, even though it always has been, just subtly.

I believe that during these times, Ian was probably "comfortable" with saying it. Sparingly. Again, it's too much, it's all too real, and even though Mickey literally sacrificed his life that night, a huge call to action due to the ultimatum, he let fear be his enabler. For saying "I love you," though... it's too close. He can do everything else, a man of action as he always is, and saying things like "what you and I have makes me free" which, you could argue is MORE of a big deal, Mickey chooses very specific words, and they all mean too much coming from someone like him with such awful background, and that's where his comfort lies. Letting Ian know about his feelings through actions, not the words. And knowing how much Ian loves to use them, words, he knows the weight behind them. It's still too much and he feels it.

Not long after, Ian's depressive episode is in full effect. How could he ever find the chance to say those words? Ian is practically paralyzed, and the events from the night before are still fresh, and now he has to process this entirely new thing? Too much yet again. I said earlier how Ian would say "I love you," but very sparingly. I like to think the first time he said this to him, maybe early s4-s5 transition, once the depressive episode cessed, Mickey had the same silent reaction Lip did when Mandy said it to him, but for entirely different reasons. It's like his entire world became this miniscule thing within the pools of his heart, and Ian could read his expression instantly. It wasn't a silence of rejection, he was almost in awe.

And some sick part of me wants to think if he gets scared because he knows there's been strange behavior on Ian's end, that of course, he doesn't understand to its capacity, and maybe Ian says this as a result of that, or if he does know Ian wholeheartedly means it, he loves this boy, as much as Mickey loves him, but still unable to vocalize it. Would he be able to discern between the two?

"You don't have to say it back" spoken in a whisper. Mickey still lost in Ian's eyes. They probably hold each other. Ian acknowledged this dazed boy before him. He knew what the words meant. Jumping back to the "you love me, and you're gay," he was done imposing his feelings onto Mickey, done projecting (not forever, but for a while). Mickey can do this on his own terms, when he feels he can, when he deems it ok to feel it all at once, recognize that everything is, in fact, all too real. And the moment came, although bittersweet.

Cause Ian wasn't there face to face to hear it, he left, and he was manic, the possibility of loosing him due to some negligence suddenly being too real. Familiar even. Things that became too much all of a sudden. So why now? Because the stakes are somehow higher this time. The fear of the unknown is higher. Mickey is dealing with a version of Ian he can barely recognize. When in 4x11, he already knew what he could lose, and his odds against Terry, he already knew what he was going to deal with, as much fear that overcame him, he knew. This? This he does not know.

And I'm thinking about the fact that so much has happened now, this slow, gradual observation of Ian losing himself, Mickey might think that it's now or never. Maybe an "I love you" is enough to snap Ian out of it? Saying it because he has no clue of Ian's whereabouts, and with extreme thinking, that he probably may not see him again for some time, the same way 3x12 happened. And it's like the words come out like a punch to the gut even though his brain doesn't know those words came out. Just look at his face. That's a legitimate face of hesitancy of admission. (courtesy of ajcrowleys)

Everything became too real again, and this one big word couldn't be held back any longer. He hears himself say it, finally admitting what he knew was true all along, just like a shirt. But who knows if Ian heard the voice mail. I think yes, at some point... maybe... but it breaks my heart.

I'd definitely would like to know other opinions, I have so much to say about Mickey's "I love you's."

#Mickey Milkovich s5 #mickey milkovich #shameless #shameless us #ian gallagher #gallavich #shameless tv #ian and mickey #gallavich meta #shameless meta #5.06

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minnaci · 2 days

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sorry i know i am not a hellaverse blog but i just watched full moon and i felt so strongly about it that i got out of bed, opened my laptop, and logged into the tumblr website for the first time in months because i knew i would want a full keyboard for this.

disclaimers: i enjoy the show and especially this episode! i like all of the characters, including stolas. what i say is colored by my own experiences and perspectives (ie, i am biased and this is my opinion)

tldr; i find it hard to like stolas in full moon. i also find it hard to empathize with stolas, if i'm being honest, and especially when it comes to his relationship with blitz. warning for full moon spoilers and discussions of racism-adjacent classism.

within the hellaverse exists clear social and economic stratification between "royalty" and "imps", with stolas being the former and blitz being the latter. much like in real life, these social identities inform everything about these characters and the way they interact with the world and each other.

stolas, to put it bluntly, is rich, and blitz is not. stolas lives in a lavish palace with imps as servants. he is not shown to interact with other imps outside of this master-servant relationship. hell, even when they were children, blitz was quite literally purchased for stolas. blitz's first impression of stolas was being sold to him, while stolas was none the wiser.

this is not necessarily stolas's fault. he was sheltered as a child, and even as he grew into an adult, he remained sheltered, seemingly ignorant to the very real class divide between him and his newest paramour. from the very beginning of their reunion, blitz uses his body to provide a service to stolas in exchange for his livelihood, and stolas accepts it because that's the way stolas is used to interacting with imps. stolas continues to "hire" blitz, both as a bodyguard and as a sex worker, and while he understands that this relationship is transactional, he doesn't really see anything wrong with it until the shitshow at ozzie's.

there is no awareness of how uncomfortable this might be for blitz. there is no empathy for how blitz might react. stolas treats blitz as an object, a plaything, a living, breathing sex toy (at one point, stolas calls blitz his "impish plaything". can it get any more clear?). as long as stolas owns the grimoire, and blitz needs the grimoire to survive, stolas can leverage that for whatever he wants from blitz. it's coerced consent. it's been coerced consent from the beginning. there is no acknowledgement that stolas holds the only key to blitz's livelihood. not until ozzie's.

only after blitz says, to stolas's face, that their relationship is completely transactional, does stolas finally begin to scratch the surface of how large their difference in perspective is. where stolas has been playing at a fantasy of being in love, blitzo has been doing what he needs to do to survive. to keep his family afloat.

and full moon. god, full moon. one commenter on youtube described it as an "ambush", and i am inclined to agree.

blitz was prepared to do what he's had to do. sex for survival. he bought out nearly the entire lust district for it, because even then he could sense that something had changed, and that he'd need to really impress stolas for things to continue as they were-- for blitz to be abel to continue to make ends meet. what blitz had no way of knowing, though, was that stolas was re-writing the rules of the metaphorical game they were playing. sure, stolas gives blitz the asmodean crystal, thereby "freeing" blitz from stolas's service, but in the same breath, stolas lays down a new set of expectations. stolas is no longer willing to accept sex as a service. stolas now wants love.

it would be a lot for anyone to take in. imagine you enter your boss's office for your performance review. you think this boss is hot. you maybe have a big crush on this boss. but they tell you that you're being fired, effective today. but they're giving you a foot in the door at a different company because they care about you. also by the way they fell in love with you, which is why they fired you. honestly? i'd probably react pretty poorly to that.

and for blitz, who has gone his whole life being told, implicitly and explicitly, that he is unworthy of love and care, both as a product of his personal experiences and as a product of his socioeconomic class, that's a whole fuckton of shit to take in. it feels almost logical for blitz to treat it like a joke or some sort of performance, because what other explanation is there? stolas is royalty. and blitz... blitz is just blitz. blitz, whose parents cared more about fizzarolli than him. blitz, whose father sold him to some rich asshole. blitz, who, in his perspective, knows better than anyone else that his greatest assets are what he can provide for other people: sex, assassinations, and more sex. blitz, who, in his mind, has ruined every relationship he's ever touched, from his parents, to his friendship with fizzarolli, to his fathering of loona, to his disastrous fling with verosika.

blitz, who was given all of thirty seconds to process that stolas really does "care for him deeply" before stolas dismissed him and shoved blitz out of his life for good because blitz didn't respond (read: perform) to his satisfaction.

i am not saying that blitz is perfect or blameless, because hell knows he's not. he took advantage of stolas's naivete in a plethora of ways. he's a literal murderer. he does treat the people around him poorly. he has hurt stolas, and fizzarolli, and moxxie and millie and even loona. blitz is brash, rude, and emotionally stunted. but much of this can be at least in part attributed to his childhood and the scarcity mindset with which he was raised. when every interaction you have is transactional, even the ones you have with your parents, it takes a lot longer than the 30 seconds that stolas allowed blitz to process that someone genuinely cares about you in a way that is not contingent on you doing things for them or otherwise being useful to them.

all that to say, i feel for stolas, but feel for blitz more. i think this episode did a really great job of like... really digging into the crux of the problem in the stolitz relationship, which is their fundamentally different perspectives and life experiences, even if the finer points about class and socioeconomic status weren't explicitly discussed.

#thinkmin!#helluva boss #helluva boss full moon #helluva boss spoilers #stolitz #sorry i kinda can't tell if i'm making sense but i have a lot of feelings and i need to put them somewhere so y'all get this #+stolas #+blitzø

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blossomthepinkbunny · 10 hours

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My full Stolitz rant

Like many other people I really dislike Stolitz as a ship and the newest episode proved that further. I decided to just make a full rant about everything that comes to mind, instead of making multiple posts, focused on different general aspects/themes of HB or HH like I usually do. So this will not cover the issues I have with the writing of other characters like Stella or Octavia (I briefly talked about Stella and the aspect of woobyfying Stolas in my Adam post already). This also won't cover general problems with writing relationships in HB/HH or anything that breaches out of their relationship for that matter. It will probably also be focused mostly on Stolas because Blitzø isn't in the wrong in their relationship really.

One of my problems is that I've seen some people try to defend Stolas' actions by referring to Blitzø as a sex worker to which I just have to say:

1. He isn't a sex worker, he's an assasin. He only has a transactional relationship with Stolas, for which he didn't have a choice, otherwise he would lose his job and the opportunity to provide for his workers and daughter. It's not like we see him generally have sexual relations for payment with other people, only Stolas which makes sense, because he isn't a sex worker and doesn't want to be.

2. Even if he was a sex worker/qualifies as one in the specific relationship he has with Stolas, that doesn't mean that he owes Stolas anything other than sex. It's not Blitzø's fault for not wanting to have anything to do with Stolas and he doesn't owe him kindness, understanding or love after what Stolas put him through, just like real sex workers don't owe a romantic relationship to any of their costumers.

It was genuinely kinda refreshing to see Stolas finally acknowledge what their relationship isn't good and that Blitzø needs to be away from him. And seeing him give the Asmodean crystal to Blitzø was a nice gesture. But this is immediately made irrelevant by the confusion of what Stolas' character is even supposed to be here. He goes towards being somewhat likeable by understanding that what he did was wrong and having that finally be recognized and called out in the show. Called out by Blitzø, who has many good reasons to dislike him and give Stolas that reality check. But then the show wants us to pity Stolas again by making him say that god awful cringy line and making me immediately roll my eyes again. Because them acknowledging the bad actions of the character (something the show wants to pride itself on so badly) was something I wanted to see ever since HB started to victimize that stupid owl. I was ready to see this character less negatively when the reality of his actions finally hit him, with the genuine breakdown Blitzø has because of him. But he gets woobyfied immediately so now he seems like a manipulative hypocrite once again, because the conversation they have might as well go like this:

Stolas: I want you to be free because I realized that the relationship I set up wasn't right and I don't want you to feel forced to love me. I care for you and I want to love you, but at the same time, I don't want you to have an obligation to be kind to me or have a relationship with me.

Blitzø: Is this a joke?

Stolas: No, I am giving you freedom, so you can stop feeling forced to do whatever I say.

Blitzø: So you're acknowledging that you suck and that you weren't nice to me and you're giving me the freedom to choose how I will proceed with our relationship.

Stolas: Yes, I am.

Blitzø: Well I do think you suck because of the reasons you mentioned and I'm gonna give you my perspective of the things you said and explain just how badly you hurt me, especially when you're just sending me away like this, giving the impression that you're throwing me aside, after you got everything you wanted from me.

Stolas: How can you think of me like this?! I love you so much and you just think I suck?!

What reason did Stolas ever give Blitzø to like him? Apart from the coercion even, there is no common ground they have. They never hang out just casually or talk like normal people, who would realistically be able to form a relationship. The only date they had (from what we can assume from the context clues in the show) that wasn't just a meeting for sex was in Ozzies and that went south really quickly. It honestly reminds me of Twilight, where Bella and Edward are said to be a great couple (by the movies atleast, haven't read the books) when they have never had a normal conversation or an interaction that could give them chemistry. All of the interactions Stolas and Blitzø had so far were either scenes talking about/having/having just had sex or them talking/singing about how tragic their lovestory is. The only exception to that are the scenes were they are children and that's obvious because it would be weird to have literal children talk about sex or about the tragedy of their relationship, when they've only known eachother for a day or so. But even these scenes don't make them seem greatly compatible or even interesting because they only hung out for hardly a day and then didn't interact for like 30-40 years until they meet again (for the first time since they were children) and Stolas just immediately assumes Blitzø wants to fuck him.

And what also weirded me out is when Stolas said something along the lines of: "why do you always make this about sex?". As if Stolas ever gave Blitzø a sign that he wants to have anything but sex from him. Again, Ozzies is the only example for that and after that, their relationship was not that important until now. But even then, Stolas made sexual remarks towards him in "Seeing Stars" and talked about how good he at sex in "Western Energy". And this sexual relationship they have is something Stolas set up, when he could've also just given Blitzø the book without forcing him to have sex and get closer by genuinely being kind to him. We don't even really know what he likes about Blitzø except for how he is in bed, so why am I supposed to care about their relationship and be sad about it not working out. Because they never give us the impression that either Blitzø's or Stolas' life would be better with the other in it (this is excluding sexual context becasue Stolas made it clear that he doesn't just want a sexual relationship in this episode). The only thing they have in common is that they both have daughters they struggle with but even there is a huge difference. Blitzø desperately wants a good relationship with Loona and constantly gives her affection and compliments, to which she responds with annoyance and abuse. Stolas has a daughter so understanding and just really neglected by him, on one hand because he always prioritized Blitzø over her (something he'd probably judge Stolas for, because spending time with a daughter who actually likes him and wants to spend time with him would probably be one of his dreams).

And nothing of this is even mentioning the sexual harassment Stolas puts Blitzø through. It starts with the pilot and the first episode, where their deal starts, at a point in the story where Stolas' whole character joke was just talking about wanting to fuck Blitzø. In the first episode their deal is established, a deal Blitzø hastily agrees to, because he is literally being hunted down, something Stolas is fully aware of. In the second epsiode Stolas makes sexual remarks towards Blitzø in front of his daughter and in the rest of the episodes he is in general very touchy and diminishing, something Blitzø is never shown to be a fan of. Stolas also very blatantly either fetishes Imps or is downright abusive towards them, showing that he doesn't see them as equal and that Blitzø's assumption about Stolas thinking he's less important is probably true (which is just a great setup for a relationship I'm sure).

In the end Stolitz is a confused, manipulative, victim blaming mess of a ship which could be used to great potential, if there was ever a point were they use this dynamic to genuinely portray a toxic relationship that shouldn't happen, instead of acting like they're meant to be together despite the toxicity and as if Stolas deserves my pity when Blitzø rightfully tells him to fuck off. Sometimes people just aren't meant to be a couple because they genuinely are too different or have other issues. But they can't have the story be about Blitzø breaking away from Stolas, because then the show couldn't mainly be carried by shipping and selling cutesy merch of a couple which actually sucks.

I do not care for the stupid owl and I probably never will. I do not think Vivzepop has the writing ability to turn this whole thing around and make Stolas end up as a well-written, flawed but still sympathetic character. The more they go into victimizing him by showing all the characters that call him out as abusive, inconsiderate or heartless (Stella, Octavia, Blitzø), the more I will dislike him and miss what the show once started as.

#vivzepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #anti vivziepop #anti stolitz #anti stolas

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