#And I understand my actions have hurt him

[moondirti]

JIGSAWS [ surgeon! simon riley x f! reader ] — masterlist / each part can be read separately : dealing with cruelty is hard when stress has a crippling effect. simon gives you a place to find comfort, however unconventional

dom/sub. dubcon (power dynamics). adjustment disorder. sexual harassment and battery. dacryphilia. hurt/comfort. biting. marking. brief fluff. medical settings. 2.8k

"Fuck aff, ya useless pillock."

At 0600 hours, a belligerent intake is the last thing you need.

Fatigue works her wily fingers into you, kneading staunchly into your shoulders to add resistance for every step forward. The sun hasn't yet peeked over the horizon, pellucid blue sky outside somehow consolidating every misery from the past week. If your exhaustion felt impregnable during the bright stretch of summer, autumn encroaches vindictive, dreary winds intent on teaching you to count your blessings, next time.

"Good morning, Mr. Cook. I'm one of the daytime neurosurgical residents, here to see how you’re doing since your admission last night at... 2100, is that right?" The script, if not plainly artificial, is a cornerstone for when you cannot muster your own words. Too often, you opt to lean into its guidance – a habit you picked up the hard way during intern year. Control all variables. That way, if things go sour, you can be almost sure that the error did not lie with you.

But perfunctoriness doesn't always bode over well. Mr. Cook's face twists into something foul, sunken eyes assessing you spitefully from his cot. You should have known to affect a different approach. He called you useless after all, for what you assume is frustrated reason. No one likes spending their time here without answers.

Try cutting to the chase, then.

"I see from your chart that you came in complaining about headaches, fever, and nausea. I understand how tired you must be. If it's alright with you, I’d like to perform a quick exam to get to the bottom of things."

"Ye'd be wasting my damn time, girl. Jus' lookin' at ya, I can tell the only thing ye're good for s'wetting my cock."

You sip a startled breath, consoling the erratic stutter of your heart with oxygen and four fingernails curled into your palm. It's not a serious threat – that much is evident by the slurred cadence, the unfocused hands he waves accusatorially in your direction. The overnight resident hadn't noted any aggression on his chart, either; which suggests this is new. Exacerbated by his condition, else the pain has loosened his tongue.

(And Kyle knows better than to schedule you with the tough ones. It's noted especially in your file, documented as a corrective action plan in prim, red ink.)

Though the smile has long since slipped off your lips, you amass what sympathy you can, nodding like it'll do anything to dissuade his suffering. Useless. "A little civility would help things run a lot smoother, Mr. Cook. It's just a few questions that will give me insight to your malaise. I'll even forward those to a senior physician, if you would prefer more qualified care."

Just one face refines itself in your mind's eye. Deep-set brown eyes, prying behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. Sentiment that teeters the tightrope between indifference and affection. The days have buried their thumbs into your obsession, urging it deeper, beyond professionalism. Nudging your lungs, finding place amidst life-sustaining organs to become one of its own. Now, veins wire through, supplying blood to what should not be encouraged, should not be sustained–

You think of him, anyway.

"A'll tell y'what." A blurry shape swipes for your face. You flinch, neck snapping back, before finding that the rest of your body can't follow suit, arm held in a vice grip by a set of gnarled fingers. Mr. Cook's hold curls into bone, urging a whole world of pain to match the terror storming through your head. Your blood pressure skyrockets. Stress whistles sirens behind your ears. "How 'bout you call a proper doctor in now, and put on a li'l show for me in th'meanwhile, eh?"

A multitude of scenes, each more harrowing than the last, unfurl at his implication. If you cannot wrench yourself from him, what's to say you can fight back should he decide to pull you closer? Oh god. Your wrist struggles, thrashing wildly, disregarding its wellbeing for the opportunity to screw out of his grasp. The clipboard clatters to the floor. Your heart palpitates arrhythmically, unsteady palpitations battering war drums on your ribs. Though you've been trained for this, you cannot regulate your response to adrenaline. The exercises given to you by your therapist scatter at the first sign of real turmoil. Your body shuts down. Things spiral out of your control.

But your assailant's condition is not usual. Where a healthy man would only grow more determined in your struggle, he lets his aggression get the best of him. Roaring, his legs kick from beneath tight-fitted sheets, arm shuddering with the force it takes to keep you tethered in place. Eventually, your panic grows too much for him to subdue. With a final push of your heel off the floor, you free yourself, stumble three steps back, and fall flat on your ass. Hurt, but safe.

Mr. Cook grumbles, moving on too quickly for someone who had been so passionate just moments ago.

Safe, safe, safe.

You force yourself to repeat only that as you straighten yourself out. Hone in the truth of the matter, and not what your body tries desperately to have you believe. Safe. It's just another patient with neurological deficits. Safe. You have reason to hand his check-ups to someone else.

Safe. There's a place you can go to sap this off your chest.

"I'll order a CT scan for later this afternoon. We will do our best to help you once the results come in. Have a good day, Mr. Cook."

Still, as you scuttle out into the white-lit hall, you feel anything but.

"Come in."

Dr. Riley's office is comparatively dark to the fluorescent rest of the hospital, brightened only by the warm light of his desk lamp. Though his curtains are drawn shut, beams of pink from the vibrant dusk outside sneak their way through, casting everything in a rich glow. The day has been long, leagues more taxing than usual. Stepping into the space offers brief respite, then, like sinking into bed to reach for better dreams.

He looks up at you, impassive. There's never any indication to how he truly feels – whether creeping adoration curls around his heart at the very sight of you, or if he reserves it for after hours – but you've found that the puzzle attracts you more than it pushes you away. You like feeling pinned under his scrutiny, a little lab mouse tested for its wit. Even now, with a whole host of real matters to discuss, you can't help but pick apart the minutia in his expression.

"Dr. Riley," You whisper, careful not to disturb the tranquillity.

"Yes?"

"Um, I'm so sorry to bother you–"

"No need for that." He clips, the liquid of his eyes shifting as they coast back to assess his screen. The monitor projects stark shadows onto his face, harsher than usual. Despite your... relationship, it's hard not to feel discouraged. He wouldn't look away if he were interested in what you had to say. "We're alone."

"Right." Clearing your throat, you shuffle through the glossy prints in your arms. Cross-sectional imaging from Mr. Cook's CT scans, annotated in your illegible hand. The aftershocks of your stress are evident in the writing; loopy letters boasting sharp corners, a liberal use of shorthand where it wouldn't be allowed. When you place them on his desk, you pray he doesn't take heed of it. "A patient who was admitted last night. Though the tomographs are nonspecific, I have reason to believe it might be a brain abscess. If that is the case, I'd like to schedule him for surgery as soon as possible, and I know you're in the OR tomorrow, so..."

He doesn't look up at you while you speak, opting instead to skim the analysis you've left for him in the margins. Only after a long moment's silence do his lashes quiver, a voiceless acknowledgement to your request. The details come later. Tomorrow morning, likely, assigned by Kyle upon clocking in.

"You'll serve as my resident."

Your lips part. Seeing Mr. Cook again, even while under the effects of anaesthesia, brings a queasy ache to your stomach. It's about the most unprofessional thing you could voice, however – more so than any nasty promise Dr. Riley whispers to you in private – so you settle on keeping it to yourself.

"Okay."

But he doesn't miss a thing. The warble in your tone catches his attention like steaming gore to a predator, jaw ticking as salivate floods his mouth. You should have schooled your emotions better, should have given it a good, long mourn before coming to see him – because if you know anything, you know that there's nothing he loves more than seeing you cry.

And now–

Now, it's too late to renege. You're on a fixed path, the only variable being a matter of time until when. The rush of it already devastates your throat, stone lodged in a white river rapid of sentiment. Warmth fogs your eyes. Prelude to collapse, tremors buried deep beneath the earth's crust come to light.

"Out with it." He says.

And your body serves him, better than it could ever serve you.

A sob breaks the dam, first – snarling, ugly thing, face screwing up in a vain effort to tamp the subsequent flow of tears. Your head feels heavy, weighed down by briny devastation and the culmination of your pressures. Yet catharsis never fails; immediately, you feel it unravelling, hiccups picking the presumably impossible knots in your chest until they are nothing more than strings, meant to eventually tie back up again.

So it goes.

But it doesn't matter here. Can't. Not when Dr. Riley scoots his seat back, clearing a space by his legs. Parting heaven's gates, a little sanctuary for the desperate. You run to it, crumpling to the floor to bury your wet face in his trousers, hugging the wide breadth of his calves. It is as though your troubles melt off your skin, wax held close to a flame. No cologne or scented-soap veils the true essence of him; him, who's able to pacify you with little word. Musk, traces of sweat, a sage and cedar-wood body wash that still clings to him, despite the day and several layers. You suck in a chest-straining whiff of it all, stitching your eyes shut to etch the smell into your memory.

"H-He was awful. Said I was... was good for n-nothing but bei-ing a whore." You sniff, curling tighter around him. A lab mouse indeed, basking in the hand that feeds it. His own – large, dry, warm – pets your nape, tugging a little at the baby hairs below your ear. Idly playing, as though your grief does not necessitate his full notice.

"Comes with the job, little thing." You know that. You know that – have heard it many a time from your parents, your therapists, your peers and higher-ups. Anyone who has ever been privy to your condition has warned you that the medical field is never stressless, that you'll spend years miserable until it grows to be too much. And he must feel your bristling, the discomfort his advice affords, for he moves on sooner than you can state your case. "Did he touch you?"

You doubt it's meant as more than a simple inquiry. Still, you fumble for the right answer. Though the one you tend to is yes, yes he did – a childish grasp for some cosseting – you wonder if he'll take your minor wounds seriously at all. Does it count if what you have to show for it are surface-level contusions? Or will it only warrant mention if you can match the fissures of his flesh?

Tucking your arm between your legs, you shake your head no. Dr. Riley's forehead creases, brows knitting together reflexively. The move must not have been subtle enough, because he extends an expectant hand, impatience igniting his tail. Bones work under the scarred skin of his knuckles, muscles rippling in the quarter-length of an exposed forearm. He doesn't need to say anything. Just sits there and waits, the ire emanating off him enough to urge you into lift your bruised wrist.

(Splitting to his will like brain matter to the knife.)

Anyone would look delicate when set against him, yet you marvel at the contrast nonetheless. It resembles porcelain, fine china in his grip. His thick fingers twist to inspect the splotchy discolouration, set there by Mr. Cook's hold.

"Does it hurt?"

"Only when– ah," You huff. His thumb presses into the tender flesh, recalling the pain you've worked all day to ignore. "you do that."

"Hm."

The words tumble from your tongue before you can catch them.

"Are you mad?" You ask, softly, then cringe as the question finds its place in the lull. It's an awkward echo, like the ocean gnawing desperately on shore, trying to make its mark in the sand. No matter how hard the spume and saltwater crashes, no matter the devastation it wreaks, it will always be pulled back, away from what it hardly affected.

(You used to liken him to choppy waters, feeling drowned in all his callousness. Yet as you wipe your tears with the back of your hand, your passions warring with each other within a vessel that cannot contain it, it has never been more clear that he is the earth. The ground. Unfixed, unmoved. It is an impossible endeavour for you, whose impact is as thin as the tides.)

More than anything, you covet an admission of his concern. Warmth to feel him in your corner, eternally there, even as your sight’s set on other horizons. With it, you'd be able to stand it all, you think.

"No." He says. "Brain abscesses can exacerbate aggressive behaviour. I don't fault him for that."

It needles right over where it hurts, mangling the softened muscle of your heart.

"Oh."

"But," Dr. Riley adds, guiding you to a wobbly stand. If he didn't plan on transferring you to his lap, you would have fallen right back down. As it is, though, he uses your fawn-like strength to nestle you across his thighs, brushing the flyaways from your temple. "Don't like seein' the marks on you."

Your cheeks heat. Pressing them into his collarbone, you speak against his pulse. It flutters, tandem to your breath. "I'll put a warm compress on it tonight."

"Better. Should only be mine you carry, pet." His voice vibrates through you, sound waves absorbing to become one with your body. Never did you think it could feel so good, yet as he continues to speak, you find yourself wishing that he’ll do so forever, eternal, so that you may weld together eventually.

"Sir…"

"Lift your head f'me." He whispers, nipping your jaw when you follow his instruction. Thin lips scratch your neck, chapped from the tight constraints of his mask and the dry hospital air. You dizzy to think of wetting them with your tongue, running the muscle along his cupids bow, sharp canines, dunking to map the inside of his cheeks. But that isn’t what this is; he’s made sure to clarify that, of all things.

So, you dip your head, neck arching to widen the canvas to his onslaught.

His groan is hot, ticklish as it fans over the area. You wriggle in his firm lap, coming to expect something much more permanent once he latches to your sweet spot. Practiced, trained to the hollow of your throat. Blood rushes to the capillaries sitting just under the skin there, bursting when it grows to be too much. Building pressure that takes away from your brain, your numbing extremities. Your cunt throbs, balmy and slick. He keeps a large hand anchored between your thighs as if he’s aware of what you’ll try to do without direction.

As a high whine pitches from your chest, and you darken to the shape of his maw, Dr. Riley doesn’t budge. He pushes further, rather. Digging his teeth into you, laving over the iron that surfaces. It hurts something terrible. If it weren’t so late into the night, you would doubtlessly be interrupted as a louder wail splits the sheltered office space, carrying through the labyrinth halls. Pain eclipses any internal worry, though. And perhaps that was the intention, mind buzzing with white noise once he pulls away.

Blinking, you clear the gossamer webs of delirium off your eyes. His mouth comes into view, first; swollen, tinted with a diluted wash of ichor, purpling with a bruise that no doubt mirror yours. You can only imagine what a mess he’s made of you, if the evidence of his own undoing is so stark.

The dual marks brings a dumb smile to your face.

“There.” He resolves, at last. It sounds like pride and feels a lot like damnation. “Good.”

You can’t help but agree.

(Even the earth will eventually erode away. Even the earth.)

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Courting Gifts- Thorin x Human!Reader

Summary: Reader didn’t realise what Thorin gave her was a courting gift, but she’s quick to remedy it

Word count: 966

Your hands begin to shake as you run through Erebor to find Ori. Your heart racing and your feet pounding against the marble of the newly restored kingdom, as you looked for the young dwarf.

Thorin had given you a beautiful dagger a couple weeks ago, assuming it was a thank you gift of friends, as you’d been the one to never leave his side and have worked so hard to restore his kingdom. Unfortunately according to Kili and Fili, you were completely wrong.

That beautiful danger was one Thorin had hand crafted just for you, using a style and gems he knew you loved, and according to his nephews, it was in fact a courting gift. Your heart seemed to stop at hearing this, not because of your lack of feelings for the king, but more for your abundance of them.

You never thought Thorin would return the feelings you had for him, but now you were beginning to understand why he had been so grumpy lately. According to his nephews, once a woman is gifted her courting gift, it is customary for her to give one in return.

It had been two weeks and Thorin had not noticed you making anything or asking anyone to help you make him something, so his heart sank.

As soon as the princes explained this to you, you ran to Ori, hoping he could help. Weapons and jewellery weren’t really your strong suit, but you had knit and crocheted some things when you were younger, so you figured that was the best way to go.

“Ori!” You yelled as you finally saw him, causing a few dwarves to turn to look at you.

Turning around he smiled sweetly as he saw you running towards him.

“My sweet dwarven friend, I need your help.” You puffed out with a hopeful grin, all the running around causing you to be a little out of breath.

*****

Luckily for you, Ori was more than happy to help; in fact the young dwarf beamed and jumped at the opportunity to help his ‘future queen’ as he put it. Such a title filled you with both anxiety but mainly excitement as you began your plan.

For the past few weeks you had worked hard to make Thorin a blanket that he would hopefully love. It wasn’t perfect and some of it was slightly loose, but Ori, Fili and Kili reassured you that it was the love and hard work that you put into it that would make Thorin smile.

For the past two weeks the princes and Ori had been running between helping you and calming Thorin, while you worked hard at your gift.

Late one night as you knocked on the door to Thorins study, you remembered all the reassuring words your friends had spoken to you.

‘He will love it!’

‘It’s made by you and with your love, don’t forget that’

‘Hurry up and be my Aunty already!’

Those encouraging words seemed to run faster and faster through your head as you waited for Thorin to answer the study door. As the door swung open, both of your somber looks turned to matching bright smiles as you looked at one another.

Working on the gift meant you hadn’t seen as much of Thorin as you usually would, but looking into each others eyes now, felt like a soothing balm over you both.

Silently stepping aside to let you into the study, you took a deep breath as you gently placed your wrapped present on the plush couch. Thorin chose to also stand as he smirked at your cute fussing.

Walking over to him once the gift was placed out of the way, you gingerly took his hands in yours, a smile growing on your face as he reciprocated the action.

“Thorin, when you had gifted me that dagger, I didn’t know the intention behind it, but after learning what it meant I wanted to make amends for how I must have hurt you, not returning a gift.” You smile sweetly down at him.

Taking one of his cheek in your hand, your thumb rubs against his cheek bone. A mix of realisation, relief and joy hit his eyes as the meaning of what you were saying began to sink in.

Gently stepping away from him, you retrieve your gift from the couch.

“This is for you, to show that I not just accept your gift, but that I relish in its meaning.” You smile warmly as you place the gift in his hands, a tear of happiness threatening to break from your now watery eyes.

Your eyes flitter between his hands and face as he begins to unwrap the blanket.

Finally the gift is revealed and he lets out a breathy laugh and tear filled smile as he takes in your gift. His smile grows and grows the more he looks at it, the gift filling him with so much joy he can’t help but rub it gently across his face.

After a while of admiring your gift, his eyes finally meet yours. Placing the blanket on his desk chair, he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Thank you, Amrâlimê. Your gift means more to me than I can ever express. It will keep us and our future family warm at night and bring us joy for years to come. Your gift is more perfect than you will ever know.” He tearfully expresses to you, now gently embracing your face in his strong hands.

“I love you, Thorin.” You confess as you stare into his beautiful eyes.

“I love you too, my sweet Zabdûna (queen).” Thorin returns your confession, as he leans into you sweetly, and plants a passionate kiss on your lips, that you are more than eager to return.

[flower-boi16]

Why The "Their Both Meant to Be in the Wrong!" defense doesn't work

Lately I've commonly seen this defence levidied towards the show's writing of Stolitz everytime someone critizes season 2's handling of it, and in light of the recent episode I feel the need to cover it. So let's go over why this defence simply doesn't work, shall we?

1. Their mistakes are not equal

I already made a post about this before so I'll try to keep it brief; Stolas and Blitz's mistakes here aren't equal and the show can't act like they are. Stolas mistake was sexually abusing Blitz, trapping him in a situation where he has to agree to sleep with him or he'll lose the thing he needs for his job

Blitz' mistakes are...

Being kind of an ass to Stolas in Apology Tour

Not realizing that Stolas has genuine love for him due to being blinded by preconcieved notions he's had about him

Let's break these down, shall we?

This not on the same level as what Stolas was doing

Blitz isn't even in the wrong for this. Again I talked about this before in my post about Viv's tweet but. Blitz is not in the wrong here for not believing that Stolas loves him, after all, what reason does he even have? Stolas has done nothing but sexually abuse and constantly belittle Blitz, and even those "nice things" aren't suddenely enough to balance out those bad actions, they are far too small to actually make up for the shit Stolas did to Blitz.

None of these mistakes are remotely the same level as what Stolas did to Blitz especially when you start putting in context here. Stolas was doing what he was doing to Blitz were all purely for his own selfish pleasure while Blitz' actions were more understandable once you look at things from his perspective.

You can't pretend that Blitz and Stolas' actions are somehow the same level when they simply are not. The actions from both characters should be equally as bad when you put in the context, but here it simply isn't.

2. Stolas' mistakes are never acknowledged

I've seen a lot of people trying to say that one of Stolas' mistakes here is that he "isn't self-aware enough" to realize how he treated Blitz not as a why to excuse him but to try and deny the argument that the show is victimizing him. There are two problems with this;

There isn't any actual indication of this being case within the show, this was just something that Viv made up in a tweet she posted after the full moon aired and everyone suddenely started parrotting it around. This was suppoused to be character trait for Stolas than that should have been made more clear from the narrative.

Let's say for a sec that the narrative does make it clear that Stolas has little self-awarness; well, it still fails because the show never calls this out. The show never calls out Stolas' lack of self-awarness in these scenes, if the show really was trying to hold them both accountable then Stolas' flaws here should be properly addressed by the narrative, but they aren't. It's a similar issue to Charlie from HB's sister show; the narrative is aware of the flaws the character has but it never chooses to call out or confront these flaws because it's too busy idealizing/babying the character to do that. Stolas' flaws SHOULD be addressed by the narrative if Viv really is trying to make them both flawed, but no, only Blitz flaws are acknowledged while Stolas' aren't.

That's bad writting. 90% of the blame is put on Blitz while Stolas is solely painted as someone hurt by Blitz' actions. The only time where Stolas' actions are seen as bad is when he was SA Blitz, which is good but...since it's coming alongside moments that demonize Blitz for not seeing that Stolas loves him, it runs hollow and still comes across and victimizing Stolas here as someone hurt by Blitz in spite of holding him accountable (and also because, once again, Blitz is not in the wrong for thinking this even if he has biases). The show is still directly demonizing Blitz for being hurt by Stolas' actions here, so it runs hollow.

3. Blitz still gets all the blame

People constantly complain about antis "picking sides" when you aren't suppoused to, but I don't think you can blame people for doing that when the show itself is picking sides. The show puts all the blame onto Blitz here, painting him as the one mostly in the wrong here and an asshole for hurting Stolas' feelings.

Despite what fans try to argue, the framming of the show makes Stolitz look completely black and white; Blitz is the asshole who hurt poor Stolas' feelings and Stolas is the one who maybe made some mistakes but is mostly innocent here guys! I'm really sick of people trying to argue about this being a grey reletionship when it's not, if Viv wants it to be a grey reletionship then she's doing a shit tier job at it due to the framming of the show.

Blitz is the one who the show mostly demonizes here, he's the one who the show sees as the worst person here who needs to change, while Stolas is painted as the "bigger" person. That's not mutual toxicity. If that was what the show was aiming for then the show would call them both out on their bullshit, but it doesn't.

Conclusion

Just wanted to write this quick post because I was sick of seeing this defense over and over again when it came to this reletionship. Guys, Stolitz is suppoused to be a mutually toxic reletionship, then the show's framming is fumbling it significantly. The writting for the reletionship here is just plain bad.

[dark-l-angel]

Literally the next day and here I am, still delulu. Here's another scenario for you, and the last one was so good I want to see what you some up with for this. Jason, helping us study by giving us a break, cuz you know that we were all stressed out the past few months because of exams and such. Can you imagine him, forcing you to take a study break, I mean stealing your laptop and putting it in a place you can't reach kinda forcing. And then just chilling, like maybe snuggling up and watching a movie or *gasp* a cute slow dance in the kitchen!!! IDK, but your marvelous writing is fueling my delusions.

BTW if I didn't mention it before your writing is amazing! Peace out ✌️

Oh it's the delulu princess 💕

Would you believe if i tell that i used to cry silently in order to not wake my parents up as a stress relief during night studyings "before i know about jason" due to how stressful shit was?

I hope this may help any students whom facing hard times ❤

7 minutes in heaven

Jason todd x reader

You could swear your brain is about to explode, too much stress for your brain. Tons of sheets scattered all around your shared apartment with your boyfriend/husband which had put him in a state of worry.. he knows about your exams and how hard you've been working to the point where you wouldn't eat/drink water if he doesn't bring it to you, he was understanding.. but his patience has limits.

Jason was staring at you from the kitchen counter while he cooking a nutritious meal, he decided to put an end for the whole thing.. you weren't taking care of yourself, for example : you were staying up at night as he goes patrolling and comes back, he'll find you in the same spot with your laptop and bunch of papers in front of you just like he left you.. Which hurt him the most. Watching exhaust and tiredness consuming you slowly.. you were almost like fading away.

He came up to you, snatched the laptop from your lap "hey! What are you doi-" "shut it up, I've had enough" you heard jason clearly.. you wanted to argue but your body failed you, you are too tired to even react or say a word but just fall back to the couch and sigh in disappointment of yourself "it's been a while since I've given him attention.. what an asshole" you mumbled to yourself.

You saw jason hiding your laptop on the top of the pantry shelves.. you'll be needing a seat in order to reach tha- "don't even think of it". A jason hissed at you while picking the pile of your papers carefully. You gave up at this point. You can't win against him especially since your loving bf is a hot-headed person, basically there will be no point of trying.

"Go to the bathroom and get naked.. I'll be right over" he said as he was in the kitchen. You don't have a choice, do you?. You went to the bathroom as you found the tub was filled already with hot bubbly water ready for you, some jasmine scent have been teasing your nose, a pair of comfy pajamas was put aside. Damn i want this man

You stripped out of your clothes without hesitation, dripping your tired body immediately into the tub, feeling your skin melting out the tiredness away.. bones floating in your body.. *eternal relaxation stage 😎👌🏻* until you hear a knock on the door that broke the calming silence.. jason entered holding a tray of the meal he was cooking earlier with some cute little additions *ya know like hotdog octopus, snake pickles.. ect*. Boy decided to pamper you today.

He kneeled to meet your pretty tired face. Kissed your forehead before starting to feed you. No words were talked. Jay was a man of action, he loves you bitch. all he does is pleasing us even if he was simply breathing.

Once you finished, he put the tray away and turned back to you. He started washing your body carefully and gently as if you were made out of thin glass. From washing your hair, putting conditioner on, applying masks/products, to scrubbing your skin, while Massaging the stressed muscles in the way.

After he finished rinsing your body, he wrapped you like a burrito in the towel before carrying you bridal style to the bedroom, he helped you with your clothes before kissing your whole face..

Next minutes of kissing, he came closer and asked if you both could have a movie night since he knows how much you loved them.. you got excited about it, an expression he hasn't seen in a long time. So you immediately jumped out of the bedroom to the living room choosing a film while jason went to make popcorn for you both to enjoy.

That's where you finished setting everything, but your bf was still missing, you jumped out of the couch and walked toward the kitchen, seeing your bf still with the popcorn. You thought for how much efforts he have been doing in order to help you, you couldn't help but just hug him from behind. It didn't took him out of surprise, he took it more of a little reward for him "feeling yourself better?" "I feel like dancing" jason didn't think twice before he turned around and put his hands on your waist kissing the top of your head, while your arms wrapped around his neck.

You two, forgetting about this dang world, swaying smoothly in the kitchen while popcorn is popping.. you rest your forehead on his muscular chest/shoulder *according to your height* fucking throwing every single thing was burning your mind and focusing only on slow dancing with your bf.. jason had a big role this whole time.. you can never thank him enoug-

Your mind got caught by jason gently removing his hands from you, switching his attention to the popcorn.. "it'll be ready now, better go grab your seat angel" you were excited about this, jason was able to see it in your eyes. Feeling alive again after being the reason of your happiness and joy.

I love him as much i love you ❤

Glad you like my writings and i hope you enjoy this one 💕

[harkonnen-darkness]

• 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭(𝐞𝐫) 𝐅𝐞𝐲𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 Part Two

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen imagine (?)

Just something short, but it seems like you liked my first one, so here is Part Two. Also a bit dark Feyd here, I think.

-> Part One 🖤 >> Part Two ⬇️ >> Part Three?

Once again, Feyd loves your gentle touches. He didn't understand them at first, they almost shocked him. He'd asked you what you were doing, twitching and irritatedly avoiding your gentle fingers. It had hurt you deeply, which he had quickly realized. He also realized that he didn't want to feel these feelings. So he drew closer to you day by day and allowed your gentle touches. Not long later, he loves them and enjoys every second of it. He would never admit it, but of course you notice it. And you also love it when he lets himself fall inside you. And it doesn't necessarily have to be sexual. When your hands caress his muscles, when you speak softly and whisper beautiful words to him. Be it about himself, about the death and dying of your both enemies or anything else that would make him happy.

Togetherness with you is very important to him. And he almost doesn't care how. Be it training, simply talking (if there is enough time during the daylight), lying in bed together at night and snuggling up close to each other, even in silence. Words don't always have to be spoken. Your closeness to each other is enough to say. Feyd would never consider silence to be bad as long as you are close together.

He often takes a closer look at your body, especially in the evening / at night. Not just to see what injuries you have sustained during training. Just so he knows that you're here with him. When he had nightmares about your death or your disappearance into the pure darkness several times, he almost didn't let you out of his sight for a few days. Just to make sure that you were still with him. toxically meant *cough* He has these nightmares regularly and is sometimes better and sometimes worse at controlling himself and his actions.

As soon as he have even a shred of time, he'll look for you. He knows all the places you like to go. And if he can't find you, he'll get angry. As soon as Feyd finds you in your or his chambers in the evening, he'll ask you where you've been. On the one hand, he is afraid that you will leave him. Another fear in him is that you will be touched by another man again. There are far too many possibilities in his head of what could have happened, when he can't find you.

The Na-Baron keeps emphasizing that he forbids you to die. At first you thought it was a joke, but each time you realize that he is dead serious. "I only allow you to bleed to death from my bites. Nothing else!" You read a lot into those words. He didn't want you to die in a fight, otherwise you would probably be weak in his eyes. On the other hand, you wonder why he would inflict all that pain to you with his teeth, when they're supposed to be, even in his words, 'love bites'.

Sometimes he unsettles you so much that it drives you crazy. However, you don't show this because you know that it would only lead to problems. But he notices your behavior and asks what's wrong. And he knows 99% of the time when you're lying. But, he doesn't always know what the truth is. But he knows exactly how to relax you and your body. actually, his words THEN only stress you out more lol

He inflicts pain on you in his own way - because he can't and won't do anything else. He bites you bloody when he's in the mood for it and he often holds you so tightly in his arms that it hurts. Sometimes it feels to you as if he could break your ribs in the next few seconds. The Harkonnen is also expressing his feelings for you, because his feelings for you are hurting him. I have explained this a little here. It makes him feel weaker, and he doesn't like that.

At the same time, you strengthen his self-confidence, but also lower it, because he had always sworn that he would never feel anything like love or similar to anyone. It had always been a weakness for him. He had loved his whores, but in a completely different way to the way he adores you.

When Feyd gets the idea, he sprays his perfume on your skin. So that everyone knows you've been with him and his scent 'sticks' to you. He also likes to smell his shower gel on you. It's like another confirmation for him that you are his when you smell like him.

When he has the time and inclination, he simply sits quietly next to you or on the bed and watches you do your hair (whether long or short). He finds the jewelry in your hair fascinating and very pretty. He's rarely seen anything like it before you. And precisely because it's you, he likes to watch you do it. Even when you do your make-up, but he's not a big fan of that. Mascara and, what he likes on you, and pink blush is enough for him. In the evening, at events, he likes to see lipstick on you.

He also finds your clothes fascinating. A lot of it is unusual, eye-catching. Sometimes more, sometimes less elegant. But you know when to wear what. But he doesn't need to see you in sexy underwear. He prefers to undress you completely anyway when he wants to be intimitate with you. But your jewelry, such as necklaces, body chains and rings, can stay on your body.

He knows one, two pretty nightdresses of yours. Nevertheless, he wants to keep you naked or in your panties in bed, pressed close to him. If it's cold, one of his sweat pants on you is fine for him. But he always wants to have your upper body free.

Apart from inflicting bites and hickeys all over you, Feyd especially likes to do it on your back. The large surface is like a canvas for him, which he can decorate as he pleases. Over and over again. He knows that many of your clothes are backless and so his marks are perfectly visible to everyone. This is not the case with your breasts and between your thighs, so your body part lends itself very well to this.

Feyd doesn't really care about the size of women's breasts. The same goes for the bottom. It should match the rest of your figure, that's all he cares about. He also knows a lot about the female body in general. He's already happily interested in it, just to understand it. He also knows what happens during pregnancy (vomiting, sometimes tiredness, body changes etc.) and it doesn't bother him in the slightest. As soon as you're pregnant, he even wants you to lay down your weapons and rest at a certain point. You and his offspring are too important to him for you both to be hurt anywhere.

Since he has feelings for you, he almost doesn't care what gender his child will be. It was only because of you, that he saw that women can also be very good warriors. And he thinks that with your warrior genes, and his anyway, a female offspring can't be bad. A male heir is desired, but with time he can be more or less satisfied with the idea of fathering a female.

Nevertheless, he doesn't want to impregnate you until the Baron, his uncle, has disappeared from the scene. Because you only find out much later that it is traditional to murder the mother shortly after giving birth. A (Na-)Baroness is only useful for offspring, nothing else. With you, Feyd's opinion has changed completely. And once he's Baron, can make some new rules - that would be the first thing he'd change. He wants to have you by his side and give you power over Giedi Prime and the galaxy, not drag you behind him as a stupid slave or doll.

Feyd loves to have pure power over your body. This works best sexually. Knowing what he can make you feel, makes his ego soar to unimaginable heights. When he has control over your body, emotions, mind and soul and he very quickly figured out which strings to pull to make you feel good which sometimes almost kills you. He loves to bite your breasts, the inside of your thighs and your butt. All the parts of your body that can perfectly enclose his teeth.

When he realizes you're not feeling well, he sometimes bites you playfully. Often in the cheek, not particularly hard. Just to cheer you up somehow and hear you giggle. It's more serious for him when he bites you while you're asleep. At best in your back, where you can't run your hands over it. Not so hard that you bleed, but it's woken you up a few times. He lies, says he hasn't done anything. Or teases you and asks if you're even dreaming about him.

I have the feeling that he might find thicker thighs quite attractive. No matter whether it's feminine curves or muscles. He's got something to grab and bite! 😮‍💨

Feyd loves slow sex with you. He wants to touch you completely differently than he treated his pets before you. Ever since you became his fiancée, he won't touch them, even though they often try to persuade him. He doesn't consent.

He sometimes sees you, without ever wanting to tell you, as nightmare and sin. That he gives himself to you, has feelings for you. And will probably never really understand it. That he feels something for you that he never wanted to feel, because love has always been a weakness for him. He doesn't love like others, he loves you in his own way. Yet he knows he can't kill you, even if he sometimes wants to. He thinks that this feeling, this longing and passion for you, could then disappear - because then you would be gone. And these thoughts torment him. He finds both terrible.

Your nickname "Devil" therefore has a much deeper meaning for him than you would ever guess.

If you have seen each other very little or not at all, mostly because of his uncle, you can assume that he will spend many hours with you in a waking state as soon as this is possible again. As already mentioned, he finds it pleasant to listen to you when you have something to say. It's a wonderful pastime for him when he's done training alone or teaching-Na-Baron-things. You read a lot of books about Giedi Prime and other things, but you like much rather have Feyd explain it to you.

He also likes to take a pretty bath with you, aside from the thermals. He's not a fan of hot water, but he tries as much as he can to be close to you. He probably wouldn't admit it either, but he likes the scent of your bath salts. And he doesn't mind smelling like you sometimes.

When he has slept in your chambers and watches you sleep briefly before he leaves, he often takes something of yours with him. Jewelry works well, as he has discovered. He hides it in his sleeve or pocket, plays with it in between (throws a ring up and down, for example). He likes to have something of yours to accompany him throughout the day. If you notice that something is missing, he lies and says with a grin that you should take better care of your things. Then the stuff suddenly reappear.

He couldn't describe how much he loves it, when you lean your head against his chest. No matter whether you are standing, sitting on his lap or snuggled up close to each other. When you place little kisses on his chest muscles, he likes to kiss your skull and nuzzle your neck and hair. Until his comforting purr turns into a deep growl and you know he's in the mood for you.

*It is absolutely no problem for him to satisfy you orally during your menstruation. He did it the first time so that you would realize that he is not disgusted by you in any ways. It's also supposed to be a sign of his feelings for you. He loves to taste your blood, which is sweet to him all the time. And he doesn't care from which part of your body you're bleeding. The main thing is that he gets as much of it on his tongue as possible without having to kill you. On the other hand, he hopes it will distract you from the pain. (Again, he knows a lot about the womens body.)

*Feyd sometimes imagines what it would look like, when you would to bleed to death in his arms. The red liquid would look so beautiful on you, decorating your body like jewelry. He would smile - probably not even realizing that you are dying - your beauty dazzles him, his perception and senses. There are moments when he looks at his knives and swords and thinks about which one he could use to cut your skin and flesh. But he manages to shake the thought aside, because he knows that it would only cause you pain. And he doesn't want that. He sometimes finds release in his dreams and is happy when he wakes up to be able to hold you close to him and hear and feel your heartbeat.

✨Did I forget something? 🤔

Taglist:

[aizenat]

This episode was the first full episode where we don’t have Claudia’s perspective to corroborate anything being said. And while her perspective is limited at times, if it aligns with what we’re seeing, it helps to discern truth from embellishment. But without it, this episode was messy in the sense that we got a lot of info but almost nothing to help us discern the facts. So now we have to rely on context clues and what we’ve learned so far, and let’s be forreal with how a lot of yall are NOT up for the task with this.

My biggest personal example being how quick you all were to believe and align with Lestat’s pov. Lestat the drama queen, the man with an admitted temper remembering how he watched Louis clutch at the air desperate for something to grab and stop his fall, who went across the ocean to step on stage and condemn the supposed love of his life to death. The Lestat who watched Claudia die on stage, and would have done the same with Louis on stage had Armand not did what he did to “save” Louis. But because he did it while crying, yall just buying everything he said? What?

Lestat is just as unreliable a narrator as Armand. And even Louis revealed this episode that he’s always going to remember himself in the worst light—or at least pursue that portrayal without argument—much more than Lestat and Armand because he carries his guilt with him in a way they don’t. He BLAMES himself for a lot of things they don’t blame themselves for. I believe Armand feels zero guilt for what he did to Claudia; just irritation it may have affected his relationship with Louis. Lestat doesn’t regret his actions, just that they sour his relationships with his paramours and result in him being alone again.

They regret the impact their actions have on them personally but not the result of their actions. Louis can be selfish too, but he feels the hurt he’s given fully. He feels how he failed Claudia, Grace and Mama Flo, Miss Lily even, and of course Paul. Even when he asks Lestat if he did something to cause Paul’s death, he always wondered because he likely blamed himself for bringing Lestat into their lives if Lestat had been responsible. Even if Lestat had done something, Louis would have found a way to make it his fault.

There’s a lot influencing this, but this episode really hit for home to me that Louis’ issues with guilt and shame, taking on the blame for things that aren’t his fault, also make him an unreliable narrative. Not because “oh he’s making people around him look worse so he looks better,” but actually because he makes excuses for them. He denied Lestat was abusive towards him, sympathizes with his tears of apologies and sob stories both after the fight last season and again at the trial, and he makes excuses for Armand’s inactivity. Even jumps to forgive him the second Armand implies he should carry some of the blame in situations too: he didn’t hesitate to believe he agreed with Armand on what to do with Daniel during that be apology scene. Louis runs to take blame in situations. It’s like he knows ifs hard to reconcile these men who claim to love hurting him so bad, so if he takes some of the blame for their actions, he can understand it.

It’s also, honestly, part of why he is quick to say things that he knows will go for the jugular. So he can say in the aftermath that he said horrible things “too,” as if they will mean he would have deserved what they do to him.

But it’s never that deep and words don’t ever excuse the level of violence and manipulation and control Lestat and Armand have used towards him. And the show is trying to emphasize that. Daniel not buying Louis’ excuses for Armand, insisting Armand sold Louis out despite being his boyfriend at the time; a betrayal that doesn’t justify 70+ more years of marriage. Claudia calling the audience (and subsequently the iwtv audience) out on gleefully accepting Lestat’s apology but not even giving her the opportunity to make one herself. And then I see fans do exactly that, using what Lestat says happened to undermine what we’ve seen so far.

Like all this hard work for the writers to make this shit plain for y’all to miss it every time.

[starlitiris]

how I imagine some hxh characters would react to their s/o having sa trauma

erm hiya folks welcome to my first ever hxh headcanon post

there's only gonna be like 5 characters here, but I do wanna do more than just these guys. i plan on making at least a part 2 for this with different characters. i just don't know who i'm gonna pick yet :/ feel free to make requests for the part 2! this isn't exclusive to the hxh men so if you wanna request any of the hxh girlies then go for it <3

WARNINGS: very brief and non-detailed mentions of sa, implied murder and torture, also very brief and non-detailed talk about sex

Ging Freecss

when the topic comes up in conversation and you eventually open up to him about what you've been through, he listens intently. no matter how much or how little you tell him about it

when you've finished telling him, he doesn't have much to say about it. he nods and hums to let you know he heard you.

his reaction might come off as him being disinterested or not wanting to know about everything you've just unloaded onto him, but he really REALLY does care, and he's glad you felt comfortable enough to open up to him about it

you might apologize for trauma dumping on him, but he'll quickly shut you down.

"don't you dare apologize."

he'll hold your hands, gently rubbing his thumbs against the back of them

if you start to cry, he'll wipe your tears away and pull you in to hold you close (if you're okay with it at the time) while you let all the waterworks out

again, he won't have much to say about it. he doesn't want to pry for more details than you're willing to give, either.

he isn't the greatest at talking about feelings and putting things into words, but he'll make sure you know he cares through his actions

he'll hold you for as long as you need to be held, then do something nice for you. like get you some of your comfort food and put on a nice movie you two can watch together on the sofa

after you open up to him about your trauma, he's more attentive to your comfort when being physically intimate. not that he wasn't before, he just pays extra attention to it now. it's sweet

Uvogin

the topic of sa comes up while you two are hanging out alone together

you make a comment implying that you yourself have experienced that kind of abuse

uvo is slightly taken aback and pries

you kind of awkwardly explain to him what you went through in minimal detail

"… huh."

you aren't sure what to make of this reaction, and silence falls between you two.

then he asks for the name(s) and address(es) of your abuser(s)

this catches you off guard

you know exactly why he wants that information you really don't even bother asking

whether you give him the info he asks for is entirely up to you! <3

uvo may be a murderous bandit but he understands the importance of respecting your boundaries. he isn't a COMPLETE monster!

he won't bring it up again or ask you anymore questions about it, but he will keep it in mind

a few days after you opened up to him, he'll really contemplate what you've told him

and later on that day he'll probably pretty bluntly ask you if there's anything specific you're not okay with. like if there's a certain way you don't like being touched, a certain thing you don't like to do, etc.

and ofc when you tell him he keeps that in mind as well and makes sure to avoid the things that make you uncomfortable

Feitan Portor

he listens quietly as you tell him however much you're comfortable with telling him.

he falls silent for a moment after you finish telling him. you can tell he's thinking.

you start to worry that you should've kept your mouth shut. feitan can be really hard to read sometimes.

"when did this happen?"

"where?"

"who?"

it's up to you whether or not you answer any of these questions.

though, if you chose not to answer any of the questions he had, he'll likely find out who it was that hurt you one way or another

it's inevitable that he'll find out

very quickly after you told him about it as a matter of fact

no matter how much you might not want him to

he will find your abuser(s)

he will approach them

and he will do what he does best

and he'll let you know about it, too

i imagine the way you find out is when he comes home after hunting your abuser(s) down

"i took care of them."

you'll either be very grateful or absolutely befuddled

assuming it's the latter, you ask him what he means by that and what he did

you also remind him that you seriously didn't want him to do anything drastic

"why are you mad? i only gave them what they deserved."

you're stressed that he went against your wishes and sought out your abuser(s) anyway, but he tries to make it up to you by treating you to some tea and cuddles

he's unusually sweet to you that night, but you aren't complaining

as much as you might be super not used to it like at all

Illumi Zoldyck

"oh."

you're not sure how you expected your boyfriend to react to this kind of information

he doesn't seem to react much at all honestly

clearly had nothing to say about it

you just sigh and let it be

illumi is an apathetic person. you knew that going into this relationship, so you really can't say you expected much

nothing in illumi's behavior changes after you tell him until you're in the bedroom with him

"is this okay?"

"is it alright if i touch you there?"

"are you sure you're up for it? we can hold off."

you are oh so very confused

but when you realize why he's being extra cautious, your heart melts

you answer his questions truthfully, you reassure him that certain acts are okay, you tell him if something makes you uncomfortable, and he respects your boundaries fully

again, outside of the bedroom he's just as illumi as he was before you told him about your trauma

but he continues to be extra mindful of your comfort when you're being physically intimate

he might ask less questions overtime as he learns more about what you are and aren't okay with, but he'll always check with you when necessary to make sure you're doing okay

Chrollo Lucilfer

imagine you two are either going on a scenic walk together or laying in bed preparing to sleep when it comes up and you tell him what you're comfortable saying to him

he listens to you intently

he might ask you a few questions about it, but only a couple. he doesn't wanna pry too much.

"when did it happen?"

"was it just the one time?"

"who was it?"

once again, whether you answer any of those questions is entirely up to you.

he doesn't act weird or uncomfortable about it, and gently changes the subject when he sees you're ready to move on

the rest of your day/night continues normally without it coming up again

the next day, chrollo gets to work on finding out everything he can about your abuser(s)

completely without your knowledge

it wasn't that difficult to get the information he needed

once he has what he needs, he tells you he's off to an important meeting and leaves

you didn't bother asking who he was meeting with. knowing the kind of shit he gets involved with, you wouldn't have expected him to tell you anyway.

once he's gone, he wastes no time in disposing of the human garbage that is your abuser(s)

then he cleans up, comes home, asks you about your day and treats you to a fancy dinner

he never tells you what he did

if you do somehow find out, though, he'll be completely honest about it and tell you what you wanna know

and as for physical intimacy, nothing really changes

he was already very respectful of your wants, needs and boundaries before you told him

[frvnkcastles]

FILL THE VOID ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Struggling with BPD, you’re determined to not get attached to anyone again, but that quickly changes when you meet Frank.

Warnings: BPD, suicide ideation, language, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.4k

Author’s note: Long time no see :) I’ve talked about this before but in addition to C-PTSD, I also struggle with borderline personality and I’ve started to talk about it with my therapist and it’s bringing up some feelings. Sooo I obviously had to write about it and insert Frank into the scenario to make myself feel better. I hope this resonates with someone else as well! <3

You had sworn to yourself you weren’t going to fall for anyone else ever again. You weren’t going to let anyone in, wouldn’t allow anyone to get close to you and unravel you and all your baggage. It was simply too much, bound to end in pain and abandonment and you couldn’t put yourself through that cycle for the millionth time.

Obviously, when you met Frank, he made that plan plenty hard to put into action. He was too charming for his own good, and he didn’t even know it. Really, he wasn’t looking for anything romantic and he certainly didn’t mean to sweep you off of your feet, yet he ended up doing exactly like that.

You were an idiot to think you wouldn’t get attached in one night. That was all it was supposed to be — just two strangers in your preferred albeit dingy bar, having a drink and chatting for the hell of it. You couldn’t deny that he was easy on the eyes, and little did you know, he thought about the same about you, but getting to know him more was what did the final nail in the coffin. You had your history of impulsive hook-ups, but you were really trying your best to ditch that unsafe habit. Somehow, connecting beyond the physical level was worse.

Your first mistake was asking his name. ”Frank”, he uttered out with that gravelly tone you were enjoying all too much, not bothering to do the whole handshake routine as he gulped down a swig of his beer and then looked over to you expectantly. You introduced yourself in return, but your mind was already wondering what Frank entailed, what kind of man you were on the cusp of learning about, and the curiosity was driving you crazy.

”So, who exactly is Frank Castle?” you queried, resting your jaw against your hand as you admired the man who started to look more and more delicious under the yellowy lights of the bar. He had a prickly stubble adorning his jawline and his hair was growing gloriously on the top, and there was something enchanting about his wide nose and the way he scrunched it up every single time he took a sip of his drink.

”Uhh…” He seemed reluctant to talk about his history, and you supposed you did come off a little strong. That should have been your sign to back off and be glad you dodged a bullet, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

”Sorry, don’t mean to pry”, you chuckled awkwardly, wiping your hair away from your face and looking down at your hands to avoid his stare.

”Nah, it’s alright”, he was quick to reassure you, something about the soft tone setting your soul alight as you looked back up at him. ”Just… ain’t a very happy story to share, y’know? Don’t wanna dampen the mood”, he continued, and you nodded in understanding before breaking into a teasing smile.

”And what mood is that?” you wondered before wetting your lips, and taking note of the sweep of your tongue, Frank once again found himself speechless before managing a chuckle, one that sounded almost nervous.

”I dunno, you tell me. ’M just enjoyin’ the company of a pretty lady right now”, he shrugged. Again, he hadn’t been looking for anything romantic, but he couldn’t deny being drawn to you already, and lately, he had challenged himself to put himself out there more. He would always miss his wife, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to find company in someone else after mourning her for years.

The compliment went straight to your head, feeding your already developing attachment. And before you knew it, you were exchanging numbers, an euphoric soar lifting your heart and undeniable excitement pounding at your ribcage with force necessary to break through. You were already being pulled in too deep to writhe away, and there was not a thing you could do to stop yourself from heading down that same path you had trodden so many times before.

When you finally called it a night, Frank, ever the gentleman, walked you to your apartment. And as you reached the front door, you swallowed thickly, knowing very well what was going through both of your minds. In fact, it was as if Frank had read yours.

”Hey, we can just say goodbye for now. No pressure”, he reminded, his hands deep in his pockets as he gave you a sincere look, insisting that he meant every word. You nodded carefully, tearing your gaze from his handsome face, knowing every second you spent looking at his impossibly deep eyes or full lips would only weaken your resolve more and more.

”Don’t get me wrong, I… I want to. But I really shouldn’t, I—I kind of have a bad habit of sleeping on the first date when I don’t even know the person that well and it usually backfires”, you explained shyly, rubbing the back of your neck and finally bringing your eyes back to him, finding a faint smile on his lips.

”I understand, sweetheart”, he promised, giving you a curt nod before taking a step back, ready to leave. Before he did, though, he gave you a look. ”Just so we’re clear, though… that wasn’t a first date. I’mma do it right whenever you have time for me”, he insisted, flashing a grin at you before turning on his heel and walking away, not even giving you time to process.

As you got inside your apartment and sealed the door behind you, an indestructible smile took over your features. So much for not getting attached.

At first, you were able to keep your behavior in check and Frank was none the wiser to your past issues, apart from the small tidbits you offered in return when he finally opened up about his family. He took you on dates, some of them with a great effort put into them, but some of them more lowkey which felt more like Frank. You were perfectly content having wine on the rooftop of his apartment building or sharing a pizza while watching cheesy action on his couch — you were just happy to bask in his company. He seemed perfect, like he could do no wrong, and even when he admitted to his vigilante activities, you saw no fault in him. To you, he was flawless, and you adored him.

But slowly, through the cracks in your facade, the problems you had feared were beginning to show.

It started when he ran into trouble with some criminals he had been after. His mood became irritated and stressed, and you took it to heart. Your own mood soured and you tried your best to help him, unable to stop thinking about him and how he was struggling, your mind in a vicious loop as you sat in the bad feeling. A few days later, he was feeling better, and you instantly felt rejuvenated and alive again, and when the inevitable disappointment came around once more, you couldn’t breathe.

The biggest downside, however, was him putting distance between you and him to avoid you getting caught in all his problems. And distance was not something you handled well. You didn’t know how to communicate it to him, either, so instead, you were left alone in an evil downward spiral.

You messaged. You called. You cried and you begged and pleaded for an answer and reassurance that he still cared about you. It was embarrassing and you felt so vulnerable and hurt that it was almost impossible to bear. You tried so hard to be rational and understand that he was probably in a lot of trouble and danger and he’d pay attention to you as soon as he could, but the wait was killing you. It felt like you were starving without him, like your emotions were bleeding and you didn’t have the tools to stop the flow. You were suffering and it was a pain only he could alleviate.

Eventually, one night, there was a knock on your door and you flew up from the couch where you had been reading over your and Frank’s text messages again and again. Without even bothering to check through the peephole, you swung the door open, and at the sight of Frank, you felt healed. You threw yourself in his arms, hugging him tightly and clinging on for dear life, with your eyes squeezed shut and your face buried into his chest.

”Hey, sweetheart”, he whispered, wrapping his arms around you as he walked into the apartment with a gentle nudge to push you along. He kicked the door shut and carefully pried you off of him, only so he could look into your eyes. ”I’m real sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. Been dealin’ with some scumbags for the past couple of days and it’s been… rough. But I shoulda called you back. That’s on me”, he apologized, a sad look in his eyes as he stared down at you.

”It’s okay”, you breathed out with a smile, ”you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Just like that, it was like nothing had ever happened, all the pain forgotten now that you were finally back in his embrace. It was so easy to doubt his feelings for you when he was gone, like they ceased to exist when he wasn’t around to prove his affection every second, but now that he was back… you were over the moon.

But the worst was yet to come.

”Yeah, about that, sweetheart…”, he started, and in an instant, your heart sank. ”I… I ain’t here to stay. I gotta get out of town for a while. I got these guys after me…”, he explained, but as he went on, the words didn’t register. All you heard was that he was leaving and that was enough to break you.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you grabbed ahold of Frank’s arm. ”Don’t leave me, please”, you whispered, ”you can’t leave me. Please, Frank.” His heart broke at the sight of you crying, and he reached for your cheek to wipe the tears away with his thumb, but the soft gesture did nothing to comfort your breaking heart.

”I’m sorry, sweet girl, I am”, he spoke, and quietly, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. As his lips collided with your hot skin, you closed your eyes and tightened your hold on his arm, but it didn’t deter him.

Gently but firmly, he undid your grip from him and left. The apartment became painfully quiet, but only for a while, as your loud sobs soon enough broke the peace. You fell to your knees, clawing on your chest as you wept and grieved what felt like a monumental loss.

It was the beginning of the end, you thought. You quickly lost the will to get up in the mornings, to eat, to sleep. In fact, you could no longer see the point in living, at all. You contemplated just putting an end to your miserable existence, feeling not only griefstricken but so goddamn humiliated. You had let yourself get caught up in it again, had let someone in and as always, it ended with you depressed and suicidal at the bottom of your bed.

When were you going to learn?

For the first couple of days, you loathed yourself. Then, your mind started to turn against Frank. He had hurt you, had disappointed you, had hurt you. He had held your heart in his hand and he had just crushed it. How could he do that? He had to be evil. He had to be cruel. It was his fault and his alone. And yet, you would have done anything to have him back.

One week later, that was exactly what happened. There was a knock on your door again and you found the strength to get out of your bed to find out who it was, though you were only hoping for one person.

Much to your relief and delight, when you opened the door, Frank was stood there looking like a kicked puppy, his dark eyes filled with something apologetic and his hands folded in front of him like he was getting ready to beg for your forgiveness.

”Sweetheart, I—”, he began, gulping as he hesitated. ”Your friend called me. Told me everything. About… about you”, he went on, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You didn’t know how to feel about that revelation. You supposed you had to be grateful to your friend who had visited you in your mourning, because she had brought Frank back to you, but you also felt ashamed. Like Frank saw you in a completely different light now. Surely, he was here to end it with you for good, unable and unwilling to associate with someone as troubled as yourself.

”I didn’t know me leavin’ would hurt you so deeply. I never wanna cause you any pain, baby. I… I’m fallin’ for you and I only left because it wasn’t safe, not ’cause I didn’t care for you. But I understand now that it must’ve been real bad for you when I did that”, he explained, and slowly, you nodded. You raked your fingers through your knotted hair, feeling insecure under the weight of his stare, but he found you just as beautiful as always.

”Are you here to break up with me?” you asked weakly, sniffling as you looked down at your feet. He reacted immediately, lifting your chin with his fingertip and meeting your gaze.

”No. Fuck, never. ’M here to ask you to come with me. I still have a lot to do but I want you on the road by my side. How does that sound, sweetheart?” he proposed, a hopeful smile on his lips.

You couldn’t believe your ears. But sure enough, you mirrored his smile eventually, and your heart came back to life.

”I would love to, Frank”, you sighed, breaking into tears again, this time out of happiness. He quickly pulled you into a hug, squeezing you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. And when he withdrew from you, it was only so he could meet your lips with his own in a tender but loving kiss. It was slow and deep and it took your breath away, your stomach doing backflips as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with all your might.

There was still a lot you hadn’t revealed to him, but it was the first time someone had seen you at your lowest and accepted it, welcomed it, and for that, you had a feeling that Frank could really, truly, genuinely be the one.

[yumicreatesworld]

Heyyy! Could you make a Ni-ki angst? Like Ni-ki and reader were classmates in elementary school and Ni-ki bullied them or like treated them badly but in high school Ni-ki got a crush on her and know he feels bad bc reader act like nothing happened in the past.

I hope you understood what I meant and thank you if you write it!

Take care love<3

Forging Friendship: A Journey of Redemption - Nishimura Riki

Summary: Riki, once a bully, seeks to make amends with Y/N, whom he mistreated in elementary school. Through genuine efforts and newfound maturity, their bond strengthens as they navigate high school together, fostering trust and understanding.”

Pairing: bully!Ni-ki x student!reader

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3.4k

Genre: Contemporary, Young Adult Fiction

Warnings: bullying, themes of emotional turmoil

Thank you, hunni pumpkin, for my first ever request! I hope I was able to fulfill your request, feedback is greatly appreciated. (NB: I don’t have kindergarten, elementary or high school where I am from, nor grades, junior year, senior year, etc. Sorry if my information is incorrect,😭)

@loriszeretinikit

In the bustling halls of your elementary school, you always felt like an outsider. You preferred the company of books and your own imagination over the chaotic playground games. It wasn’t that you didn’t like people; it was just that the noise and drama of your peers often felt overwhelming. Unfortunately, this made you an easy target for Riki.

Riki was the kind of boy who thrived on attention. His antics and pranks made him popular among the other kids, but they often came at the expense of someone else. More often than not, that someone else was you. Whether it was hiding your books, making fun of your quiet nature, or tripping you in the hallways, Riki seemed to have made it his mission to make your life difficult.

One particularly bad day stood out in your memory. It was the day of your group project presentation in front of the whole class. You had spent weeks preparing, putting in extra effort to make sure everything was perfect. The topic was something you were passionate about, and you were excited to share your work.

As your group got ready to present, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. However, just before it was your turn to speak, Riki, who was part of your group, smirked and pulled a small, hidden cord that caused the project display to collapse. The carefully arranged posters and models came crashing down, and the class erupted in laughter.

“Whoops, my bad,” Riki said with a shrug, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

Your face burned with embarrassment as you scrambled to pick up the pieces. The teacher tried to restore order, but the damage was done. Your carefully planned presentation was ruined, and the sense of pride you had felt was replaced by humiliation.

For the rest of the day, you avoided everyone’s gaze, the sting of Riki’s actions lingering long after the incident ended. It wasn’t just the pranks and public humiliation that hurt the most. It was the little things, too. The whispered comments as you walked by, the snickers behind your back, the feeling of always being watched and judged. It made you withdraw even further into yourself, seeking solace in the pages of your books where the characters were kinder than the children around you.

Your only escape was the library, a quiet sanctuary where you could lose yourself in stories far removed from your own reality. There, you found comfort in the silence, away from Riki’s taunts and the harsh world of the playground.

Despite everything, you never told anyone about the bullying. You didn’t want to be seen as weak, and a part of you hoped that if you ignored it long enough, it would stop. But the pain was always there, a constant companion during those formative years.

As elementary school came to an end, you looked forward to a fresh start in high school, hoping to leave behind the memories of Riki’s cruelty and the hurt it caused. You spent that summer reading, preparing yourself mentally for the new beginning. High school was a chance to redefine yourself, to be someone more confident and less affected by the past.

The first day of high school arrived, and you walked through the gates with a mixture of anxiety and hope. The campus was much larger, filled with new faces and new opportunities. As you navigated through the crowded hallways, you reminded yourself that this was your chance to start over.

Yet, as fate would have it, one of the first familiar faces you saw was Riki’s. He had grown taller over the summer, his features more mature, but the sight of him brought a rush of old memories and a pang of anxiety. You steeled yourself, determined not to let the past define your high school experience.

Riki’s eyes met yours briefly in the hallway, and you quickly looked away, pretending not to notice. You kept your head high and your focus straight ahead, refusing to let the memories of elementary school overshadow your new beginning. As the days turned into weeks, you found solace in your classes and new friendships, slowly building a new identity for yourself, one that wasn’t marked by Riki’s cruelty.

High school was your chance to be someone new, and you embraced it fully. You participated in clubs, made new friends, and excelled academically. You became someone who was respected and admired, not for how quiet you were, but for your kindness, intelligence, and resilience.

Yet, even as you thrived, the shadow of the past lingered in the background. Riki was no longer the same mischievous boy, and you often caught glimpses of him looking your way with a conflicted expression. It seemed he, too, was dealing with the echoes of the past, but you pushed those thoughts aside. This was your time to shine, and you weren’t going to let anything dim your light.

I leaned against the window of the train, watching the cityscape gradually transform into rolling hills and lush greenery. My parents had decided that a summer away from the city would do me good, so they sent me to my grandparents’ house in the countryside. I wasn’t thrilled at first, but as the train moved further from the familiar, I felt a strange sense of anticipation. Maybe this was what I needed—a break from everything.

Upon arrival, my grandparents greeted me warmly. My grandfather, a stoic yet kind man, patted my shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Riki. You’ve grown.”

I smiled, feeling a bit awkward but comforted by their presence. Their house was a quaint, old-fashioned home surrounded by fields and forests. It was a world away from the bustling city and my usual distractions.

The first few days were uneventful. I helped with chores, spent time exploring the woods, and tried to keep my mind off things. But the tranquility of the countryside made it hard to ignore the thoughts that had been gnawing at me. Memories from elementary school, particularly of you, kept surfacing, filling me with a deep sense of regret.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, my grandfather found me sitting alone on the porch. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

I shrugged, “Sure, Grandpa.”

We sat in silence for a while, watching the fireflies flicker in the gathering dusk. Finally, he spoke. “I see a lot on your mind, Riki. Something you want to talk about?”

I hesitated but then sighed. “I’ve been thinking about how I used to treat someone back in elementary school. There was this girl, Y/N. I was really mean to her. I bullied her, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

My grandfather nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s good that you’re reflecting on your past actions. It means you’re growing up. But feeling guilty isn’t enough. You need to take responsibility and make amends if you can.”

“How do I do that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“By showing that you’ve changed through your actions. Be kind, be respectful, and if you get the chance, apologize sincerely. It’s never too late to make things right.”

I pondered his words. The next day, I decided to start making changes in small ways. I helped my grandparents more willingly, took on extra chores, and tried to be more considerate and patient. I found that these small acts of kindness made me feel better, more grounded.

My grandfather also shared stories from his own youth, times when he had made mistakes and had to learn from them. “We all mess up, Riki,” he said one evening. “What matters is how we choose to move forward. You have the power to become a better person.”

I spent the rest of the summer embracing this new mindset. I also rekindled my passion for dance, which had always been a source of joy and expression for me. My grandparents encouraged me, watching proudly as I practiced in the open fields, my movements becoming more fluid and purposeful.

My grandmother had also given me a journal. “Write down your thoughts, your goals. It might help you sort through everything.”

I took her advice and began journaling. I wrote about my regrets, my hopes for the future, and my desire to change. The act of writing helped me clarify my intentions and strengthened my resolve to be better.

As the summer drew to a close, I felt a profound sense of transformation. I had grown not just physically but emotionally and mentally. I was determined to carry this new perspective into the school year and beyond.

It was the first day of junior year, and Riki stood at the entrance of the high school, scanning the sea of faces.

As he walked through the crowded hallways, greeting friends and acquaintances, he spotted a familiar face—you. You had changed since elementary school. Your posture was more confident, your smile brighter, and there was an air of indifference around you that made you almost unrecognizable. Yet, something about you drew him in, something that made his heart race and his stomach churn with regret.

Riki couldn’t shake the memories of how he had treated you. The pranks, the taunts, the humiliation he had caused—all of it came rushing back. He watched you from afar, captivated by your resilience and grace. He wanted to approach you, to apologize, but every time he tried, the words caught in his throat. He feared you would see him as the same bully from your past.

Days turned into weeks, and Riki found himself unable to stay away. He would catch glimpses of you in the hallways, during lunch, and in classes you shared. He noticed how you interacted with others—kind, intelligent, and respected. You had built a life for yourself that seemed untouched by the shadows of your shared past.

One afternoon, Riki finally gathered the courage to speak to you. He found you sitting alone under a tree, engrossed in a book. Taking a deep breath, he approached. This was it—the moment he had been dreading and longing for all at once.

“Hey,” he said, his voice shaky.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his with a calm, unreadable expression. “Hi,” you replied, your tone polite but distant.

“I… I don’t know if you remember me,” Riki began, his hands trembling. “But we were classmates in elementary school. I treated you badly, and I’ve felt awful about it ever since. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You studied him for a moment, your face portraying no emotion. “It’s okay,” you said finally. “It was a long time ago.”

Riki’s heart sank. Your indifference was worse than anger. “No, it’s not okay,” he insisted. “I hurt you, and I need to make it right. Please, let me make it up to you somehow.”

You closed your book and stood up, looking him in the eyes. “Riki, I’ve moved on. You should too. We were kids back then, and kids do stupid things. But we’re different people now.”

Riki watched you walk away, feeling more lost than ever. Your words, though reasonable, didn’t absolve the guilt that gnawed at him. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t just let it go.

Over the next few days, Riki struggled with how to show you he was sincere. He realized a simple apology wouldn’t be enough. He needed to prove through his actions that he had changed. But how? He barely knew you now, and you seemed so far removed from the girl he had tormented.

Riki wandered, pondering his thoughts, when he saw you struggling with a stack of books outside the library. He rushed over without thinking. “Let me help you with those,” he offered.

You hesitated for a moment but then nodded. “Thanks.”

As he carried the books for you, he tried to make small talk. “I noticed you like reading a lot. What’s your favorite book?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the question. “It changes, but right now, I’m really into ‘Pride and Prejudice.’”

Riki nodded, genuinely interested. “I’ve heard it’s good. Maybe I should give it a read.”

You looked at him skeptically, a small smile playing on your lips. “You don’t strike me as the classic literature type.”

Riki chuckled, relieved to see a hint of warmth in your demeanor. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t before, but I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”

You seemed to soften a bit at that. “Well, it’s never too late to start.”

Riki continued to find small ways to help you. He held doors open, saved you a seat in class, and even stood up for you when others tried to belittle you. At first, you were wary of his intentions, but gradually, you began to see that his efforts were genuine.

“Thank you, Riki,” you said softly. “I see that you’re trying, and I appreciate it. Let’s start over, as friends.”

Riki felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “I’d like that,” he replied, smiling for the first time in what felt like years.

As you spent more time together, Riki’s feelings for you grew deeper. He admired your strength, your kindness, and your ability to move forward despite the past. He found himself falling for you, not just because of his guilt, but because of who you had become.

One afternoon, you and Riki found yourselves alone in the library, working on a group project. The other members had taken a break, leaving the two of you surrounded by the quiet hum of study sessions and the occasional shuffle of books being returned to shelves. The atmosphere was tense with unspoken words, both of you aware of the lingering tension from your shared history.

Riki had been grappling with his guilt and uncertainty for months, haunted by memories of his actions in elementary school. As he stole glances at you, diligently scribbling notes in your project binder, he knew he couldn’t keep avoiding the conversation that weighed heavily on his conscience.

Finally, summoning all his courage, Riki spoke up, his voice tinged with sincerity and vulnerability. “Y/N,” he began, his tone serious yet hesitant, “I know I’ve said sorry before, but I feel like it wasn’t enough. I really want to explain why I acted the way I did back then.”

You looked up from your notes, meeting his gaze with a mix of curiosity and caution. Your eyes, usually warm and welcoming, now held a guarded expression that mirrored the walls you had built around yourself. “Okay, I’m listening,” you replied quietly, willing to give him this moment to explain.

Riki took a deep breath, his hands fidgeting with a pencil he had picked up absentmindedly. “When we were kids,” he began slowly, choosing his words with care, “I didn’t understand a lot about myself or how to treat others. I was insecure and desperate to fit in. I thought… I thought making fun of you would make me look cool.”

He paused, the weight of his admission hanging heavy in the air between you. “It was wrong and cowardly,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I regret it deeply.”

You listened in silence, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you—pain from the memories of being ridiculed, skepticism about Riki’s sincerity, and a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, people could change.

“It’s hard for me to reconcile the person you were with who you seem to be now,” you finally admitted, your voice soft but laced with underlying uncertainty.

Riki nodded earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. “I understand,” he said sincerely. “And I don’t expect you to forget or forgive easily. But I want you to know that every day, I try to be a better person. Meeting you again has given me a chance to make things right, and I don’t want to waste it.”

Your expression softened slightly, a faint hint of understanding dawning in your eyes. “I can see that you’re trying, Riki,” you acknowledged quietly, your guard easing just a fraction. “But it’s going to take time for me to fully trust you.”

Riki exhaled slowly, relief washing over him at your words. “I know,” he replied earnestly, his voice tinged with determination. “And I’m prepared for that. I just want to be someone you can count on, even if it’s just as a friend.”

The library seemed to cocoon around you both, the weight of the past slowly easing as Riki’s honesty and vulnerability bridged the gap between you. It was a small step forward, but for Riki, it felt like the first ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds after a long, dark night.

And, Riki kept his words, continuing to show his commitment through his actions. He was there when you needed help with schoolwork, offering explanations patiently and without judgment. He saved you a seat during lunch breaks, engaging you in conversations that gradually moved beyond surface topics to deeper discussions about life, dreams, and shared interests.

Each interaction was a testament to Riki’s genuine effort to be a better person and a reliable friend. And though the road to rebuilding trust was fraught with uncertainties and hesitations, both you and Riki knew that every small step forward was worth it.

One evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the streets, you walked home together with Riki. The usual bustle of the day had settled into a serene quiet, creating a moment of intimacy between the two of you.

“Y/N,” Riki began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, “I need you to know that my feelings for you aren’t just about making up for the past. I truly care about you, and I want to be someone who supports and cherishes you.”

His words hung in the air, a gentle breeze stirring the leaves overhead as you processed their weight. You slowed your pace, turning to face Riki, searching his eyes for any hint of uncertainty or insincerity.

“Riki,” you replied slowly, your voice quiet but steady, “it’s taken me a long time to come to terms with what happened between us in the past. I appreciate your honesty and your efforts to change. But trust… trust takes time.”

Riki nodded, his expression earnest as he listened to your words. He understood the depth of your caution, knowing that his actions in the past had left scars that couldn’t be easily forgotten.

“I promise you, Y/N,” Riki spoke earnestly, his voice carrying a note of determination, “I’m not that same person anymore. I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I’m committed to proving it to you, no matter how long it takes.”

You studied him for a moment, observing the sincerity in his eyes and the sincerity in his voice. There was a vulnerability in his stance, a raw honesty that touched something deep within you.

“I can see that you’ve changed, Riki,” you admitted quietly, a flicker of hope kindling in your heart. “And I want to believe in you.”

Riki’s shoulders relaxed slightly, relief evident in his features. “Thank you, Y/N,” he replied gratefully. “I know I still have a lot to prove, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

As you continued walking, the weight of Riki’s words lingered between you, weaving a thread of understanding and tentative trust. The road ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and moments of doubt, but in that fleeting moment, you dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, forgiveness and healing were possible.

Over the following weeks and months, Riki remained steadfast in his efforts to prove himself to you. He continued to be a supportive presence in your life, offering encouragement during challenging times and celebrating your successes with genuine enthusiasm. He respected your boundaries and never pushed for more than you were ready to give.

Slowly but surely, your trust in Riki grew. It wasn’t a sudden transformation but a gradual evolution, built on a foundation of mutual respect, honesty, and shared experiences. Together, you navigated the complexities of friendship and the delicate dance of rebuilding what had been broken.

And as each day passed, Riki’s actions spoke louder than words, demonstrating his unwavering commitment to being the person you could rely on—a friend who cherished your trust and valued your presence in his life.

I hope you all enjoyed! Please do leave all the criticism as it helps make me a better writer. Also, I tried some new things, like a change of frame. Let me know how the overall story flowed for you all. Love you!

[iris-draws]

Verosika in her apology tour fit🔥🔥

Okay WOW that episode was amazing and also a lot so I'm gonna ramble for a bit.

Verosika absolutely slayed and ate (surprising nobody) and I love how sweet she was with everyone and especially stolas. Her talk with blitz was great and I'm glad she got the closure she needed. She truly is a kind soul for throwing a party for all the people who have been hurt by this horrible guy, and everyone there is understanding and comforting, it was so cute to see. Also the fact she was able to forgive blitz was incredible in itself. If I saw how many people he had hurt this badly and also been hurt and embarassed by this guy, I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive him with just him feeling sorry for himself and a half-baked apology.

This episode really showed us what a terrible person blitz really is. And honestly? I don't really sympathize with him anymore. Yes, he has trauma. But he refuses to work or just get better and can't even apologize. Getting a bit personal here but I had a toxic ex who was very similar to blitz, so maybe I'm biased and that makes me hate the character more. Nevertheless, blitz was absolutely terrible this episode and yes you can feel bad for him but I better not see anyone condoning his actions.

There is a party EVERY YEAR specifically for this guy and everyone he's hurt. There were SO MANY PEOPLE there?? He's screwed over and fucked a lot of those people, and he can't even bother to remember them or apologize?? His excuse is "Well it's hell so everyone is shitty" which is a terrible excuse. Just because it's hell doesn't mean you have to be a shitty person. Bro really needs to go to the hazbin hotel and take Charlie's lessons cause he needs to learn "it starts with sorry."

Now for stolas. Omg my baby ATE this episode. I loved seeing him be passive aggressive and sing his heart out (btw, that song is one of the best in the series, MY GOD. it doesn't even sound like stolas it's so different from the rest of the songs but it's SO GOOD. THE VISUALS, THE VOCALS, THE LYRICS AHDJDANKQ SO GOOD OMG) I do think stolas has some issues as well. He needs to understand he DID look down at blitz. He doesn't really understand that he truly is privileged. He treats blitz and his butler imps completely differently. If they're going to be in a relationship they both need to change. Stolas needs to learn his worth (which i think he will start to realize he's better than blitz deserves until he changes with that succubus dude) and blitz needs to get his shit together. But stolas does need to look back on his actions and the things he's said to blitz to give him the impression that he was nothing more than an "impish little plaything" to stolas.

I could ramble for hours about this episode but I'll stop for now lol if you made it this far you get a cookie🍪

[lesbianbootheng]

Whos your LEAST favorite character hsr and why ? No wrong answers, just curious hehe

ooo that’s a good question… i guess jade for human trafficking or exchanging 1 Pair of Chains for another. i’m still kinda confused and iffy and don’t know how i feel about her bc i heard some people say it’s not true, it’s an exaggeration, etc & i haven’t gotten far enough in the game to know. or know enough about aventurine or jade’s lore. regardless the mention of human trafficking is a lot already so she’s already on my bad side

outside of jade is… dr ratio? which. sounds weird bc i actually do LIKE his character but… i won’t lie: some of his comments? his actions? rub me the wrong way

the way he calls people idiot… i know he only does that if ppl are squandering their potential and opportunities but. It’s really hard to achieve that potential when so much hard work is put into that. and there’s a lot of external circumstances that can prevent people from achieving that. so being called idiot for that… just rubs me the wrong way

for example: i have a sibling that struggles a lot academically. and he’s struggled for years. he’s improved a lot since he started but due to always playing catchup he’s gotten tired of trying. as a result, he kinda gave up at one point. my family and his teachers had to give lots of encouragement to set him up on the right track again. being called idiot (when my brother sees himself as one) would NOT help that.

another person that doesn’t try to reach her full potential because of outside circumstances: my mom. she’s always been real smart to me, and capable of pursuing higher education (all the way to masters). however, she puts more value to her family over her own education. and i don’t think she’s dumb for “squandering her potential” but. people just have different values. not everyone cares reaching their max. they just want to live and that’s okay.

finally, on the other side of the spectrum: me. i’m someone who’s been trying to reach his potential for YEARS. i worked so hard that it jeopardized with my mental health. consequently, i had to stop and focus more on myself than my education which. even now im still not used to. and while reaching my potential is important i think if i were called an idiot for no longer prioritizing that. it would hurt me </3

tldr: while i understand why dr ratio does what he does (he’s a scholar who’s goal is to cure the world of stupidity: make education universal) there’s people that aren’t in a position to prioritize that or care about education all that much. and yknow what? that’s okay. so long as you know enough to survive then it’s okay to not reach your max.

that doesn’t mean i dislike him. if anything, he’s all the more intriguing because of this flaw: but i won’t deny that it rubs me the wrong way. (it’s why im having my oc be his narrative foil and address this flaw: how not everyone values education the way he does, why, and how to decrease these factors. also how to ppl bc u cannot make ur goal be “spread education to the masses” and not know it w to communicate with them bc canonically: he struggles and he struggles HARD!!!

[shizunitis]

old man yells at cloud: shen qingqiu and the fandom

cw: discussions of homophobia, abuse & ableism

this was not supposed to get this long, or this disorganised. there’s also a lot of profanity because i am who i am. i half-apologise. annoyed/-ing yapping continues under the cut. i’ll reward u at the end with something i promise

look. listen. hear me out

i agree that shen “yuan” qingqiu is oblivious and it’s funny to see him panic and scramble for a foothold in the insane world of pidw, but some of you honestly sound like you think he should be drawn and quartered for having trauma.

y’all safely out of the closet, loved, accepted and supported since the womb? is that it? you’ve never hurt someone by believing lies purposely fed to you by “the system”? lies that, when questioned, get you punished or shunned? you’ve never been guilty? you’ve never been scared? you’ve never had to hide a part of yourself to be accepted? you’ve never been frustrated by your loved ones’ insistence that “they know better”?

“mxtx wrote a novel where the internet troll gets his comeuppance for bullying the poor author” cannot coexist with “abuse/pain/unjust punishment cannot give birth to a healthy society”. either you want shen yuan broken and made into something else more palatable to you, or you want him to be free to dote on and protect binghe and heal. it is clear what the story chose to do.

there’s a whole ass novel out here that’s basically screaming “be compassionate! be kind! be vulnerable! accept others as they come! solipsism is a bullshit thought experiment and not some grand theory about the nature of the universe!” and yet you’ve somehow, as if hungry for blood, focused solely on the shortcomings of a lost, inexperienced young man trying to make the best of his situation while being coerced by an omniscient, omnipotent, asshole of a god.

there is no clearer allegory in modern media about the destructive influence of coercion, brainwashing, and thought policing, than the one presented in svsss. and yet! here i fucking am, coffee-less, reading with my own two eyes corpsezun-cold ass takes on the “proper” ways of navigating self-discovery.

i hate having to be the one to tell someone to touch grass, so i’ll just urge you to read something else, something literal and educational about the struggles of queer/disabled/vulnerable people in unkind societies (all of them) and outright hostile ones (most of them). watch documentaries, seek out the elders of your communities, think back on your own unpleasant experiences, speak with people you don’t agree with and approach conversations with curiosity. lurk in fandoms before you post.

this is something you’ve internalised: that a queer person must be pure of mind and spirit to expect compassion. that a vulnerable person you deem weak must not be listened to since clearly, someone else knows better. that someone who makes a mistake/misunderstands something should be shunned, or at the very least berated in spite of having already faced the consequences of their actions.

y’all don’t have to love everyone to be kind to them and understand them. and honestly trying to “punish” a repressed queer man for how he’s choosing to survive in a hostile environment by spouting borderline-cruel bullshit about his thoughts that never leave his brain just tells me that you have done close to no self-assessment and are liable to hurt people by accidentally saying some horrendous shit you don’t even realise is painful to hear.

as you have done, and keep doing, especially when seriously and without a moment of reflection you post non-jokey “haha shen yuan is stupid and oblivious of course that happened. every friend he has trying to assert control over his choices is a just and reparative consequence of his stupid pea-brained attempt to survive. the system was good actually.”

i fucking love making ‘liu qingge was a victim’/‘lmao bingy is horny gripping shizun connect the dots’/‘shizun cannot be trusted outside for more than half an hour’/‘lmao ballad of bingqiu’ jokes because yeah! that happens! you get people who crush on you! people sometimes get infatuated with you! sometimes people get very invested in your life! sometimes people worry and care even if you don’t realise it!and it is somewhat comical in hindsight, a bit endearing, a lot bewildering, but ultimately mundane and entirely human!

until it actually starts affecting you in real ways. until people try to corral your movements because they “can’t trust you to be safe” without listening to you, a grown ass adult who clearly knows something they don’t. until your own mistakes come to bite you in the ass and, when you’ve fucking fixed it, you get berated and judged for it because others’ self-righteousness takes precedence.

good people learn and change and take responsibility for hurting those around them. they allow those who have erred to find a better path forward. they act with compassion and respect for even the most undesirable of their peers.

there are many messages in svsss that you can learn from. while it falls short in some aspects (naturally, by virtue of being written by a high-schooler), it does not fail in presenting a human perspective on fucked-up circumstances and asking you to understand and empathise.

characters are there to hold up a mirror for you. it’s a safe, consequence-free opportunity to look inwards and decide if you’re okay, or if some things might need addressing.

fandom is a playpen and you get to do whatever you want forever to the dolls. but your playmates are real people who, in some cases, are susceptible to your influence, and will be hurt by how you choose to present your commentary. when they leave the sandbox and see the distorted reflection of your arguments come alive in the real world, they will then internalise it, just as you have.

and then i’ll have to read it and it’s, frankly, depressing to see what my Not Homophobic, Very Woke (lie) high-school classmates would say all over again. is that what you want? to be likened to a 15 year-old eastern european boy? really?

obviously i’m not talking about jokes, bits, comedies, haha hehe’s, or fanfic depictions that i may not agree with from a storytelling standpoint.

i’m not the mayor of who-gets-to-talk-ville, but i’ve lived all my life in a deeply homophobic, racist, ableist and economically fucked country of former soviet influence and it just, like, annoys me to see the same sentiments in these kinds of spaces coming from inexperienced/young people who just don’t realise the impact of their own ignorance. i hope i’ve made this clear even if i sound like a finger-wagging dirty-mouthed grandpa yelling at the kids on my lawn.

fuck i’m so tired

anyway. here’s the reward:

ah… that makes me feel so much better. <3

[worseandworse]

Well that’s officially the last time I try to open up to friends

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Truth and revenge is best served cold.

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[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i f. i fucking forgot a pencil so i cant scribble out this Thought i had while on a lil road trip today - basically i was thinkin about Wally, as ya do, and i asked myself why does Wally eat with his eyes? its such a Fascinating yet somewhat Out Of Place choice for him. how did Clown come up with that? its so unique. it stands tf out.

and then i remembered Frank & Poppy's convo for their 'bug' audio, and how he says "you eat with your eyes first" and like... thats a real phrase. ive heard it in my life. & it set off lil alarm bells in my head the first time i listened to the clip, i just hadnt connected the dots yet. so its feasible that thats why Wally eats the way that he does - and an in-universe explanation could be that Wally heard the phrase before he could learn how to eat 'properly', and took it literally

essentially:

Frank: you eat with your eyes!

Wally: *rdj meme format* you eat with your eyes

[neurotypical-sonic]

thinking about bpd amy