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realcube · 6 months ago

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dilf december

day eleven ⭑ ushijima wakatoshi ⭑ time for christmas kids?

tw: nsfw minors dni, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, riding, squirting, size kink and cervix bruising

to everyone's surprise, ushijima was strangely receptive and understanding when his contract with the swedish adlers expired and they didn't renew it for the next season; telling him they didn't make the decision out of ill-intent, they just think it's time for him to retire.

there was nothing stopping ushijima from simply trying out for another team. he'd likely have no problem finding another one that would accept him, despite him being thirty-five, since he is still fit and healthy.

however, shockingly, ushijima took the adler's advice.

this was unlike him as all throughout his career, he has vehemently protested whenever anyone even alludes to his retirement, insisting that he will remain on the volleyball court until his legs give out from under him.

and although that is true to some extent, because he often visits the court and plays games recreationally while in retirement, it still puzzled you as to why he switched tempo so suddenly.

although, you weren't going to complain, as since leaving the swedish adlers you've been able to spend a lot more time with him than you usually did, which is always nice, especially around the holiday season. you almost felt greedy having him all to yourself: no useless teammates blowing up his phone and no whiny managers asking to meet with him. just love and peace on earth!

that is, until you remembered a conversation you've been having with him ever since the beginning of your marriage.

"when are we going to have kids, toshi?" you would look up at him with boiling anticipation in your eyes.

and though he'd appreciate your eagerness, he'd frown and reply sternly, "i don't have the time to raise kids, currently. i don't think i will ever have the time while i am employed as an athlete. we should have this discussion once i retire."

you grumbled, "but you literally always say that you're never going to retire?"

"that's true, though i might fall into unexpected circumstances. say, if i am hit by a train."

"or my car." you'd comment with a titter.

it was funny and light-hearted dialogue back then, but now that you had both matured and grown in your relationship, you find that particular topic of disucssion to be more pressing. especially as you have fallen into what ushijima may describe as "unexpected circumstances" where he now has all the time in the world to help you raise a child.

so, you decide to bring this point to his attention one night, before bed.

the outside is consumed with darkness and your back windows are virtually blackened; it reflects the flickering light of the festive scented candles placed around the room. wafting the smell of freshly baked cookies through the space, pleasing your nose like a warm hug, while your focus constantly shifts between the tv screen and your husband, who is sat beside you on the couch with his eyes drilled into a book while you lounged in your fluffy robe.

you weren't paying attention to the show currently playing at all. no, it was simply background noise to the chorus of worries and perpetual screaming in your mind, as you mulled over whether or not now was a good time to bring up the topic you so desperately wanted to discuss. the last thing you'd want to do is disturb the peaceful night you were sharing and cause tension in the household.

but if you can't talk to your husband about something that is important to you, what is the point of getting married?

you swallow your pride and inhibitions with an audible gulp, then croak, "wakatoshi?"

"yes, dear." he replies in his usual blunt manner, not glancing up from the pages.

"do you remember a while ago when we talked about having kids?" you said timidly, so quiet that ushijima could barely hear you over the noise of the tv. so he pauses the show, and replies,

"yes, i think i do remember."

his face is so stern and unwavering; it's hard to tell if that is due to his natural stoic nature, or if he truly does not care for what you are saying. for the sake of your self-esteem, you assume its the first one, and continue talking.

or, at least, you try to. it's quite hard when your heart is pounding so harshly in your chest that you feel it could leap out of your throat at any given moment. "you said we should talk about it when you retire. so, have you given it any thought?"

he furrows his eyebrows together, and stares into the distance. a couple seconds pass, and he closes his book too, placing it to the side in order to focus on pondering your question.

it takes a minute, but he finally responds, "yes, i have."

you blink, expecting him to continue, so when he doesn't, you urge him to do so, "and?"

"and i think it's a great idea. now is the perfect time to have child." he says it in such a dry manner that any onlooker would think he was being sarcastic, but you know your husband all too well, and you can pick up on the subtle signs of sincerity in his cadence.

your whole face lights up, and you perk up in your seat, "really? that's amazing news, toshi!" you squeal, lunging forward and throwing yourself into his arms. and as always, he's ready to catch you in his strong arms and hold you close for however long you need.

as your melting into the hug, wakatoshi uses his gentle grip on your waist to pull you onto his lap, only so you could be even closer together. he peppers kisses up your neck and across your shoulderblade, while his hand sneaks behind your thigh.

at first you think nothing of it, as you know your husband enjoys a sneaky little grab at your ass sometimes. however, when his squishing slowly turns into rubbing, and his target moves from your perky ass to in-between your thighs, you gasp at the realisation and stagger, "oh, you meant like.. right now?"

you jerk away from him, and he meets your shocked expression with an entirely blank look on his face, "of course."

you blink, and so does he. considering it for a moment, it only takes you a couple seconds to land on the conclusion that there is no time like the present.

thus, you slip your arms around his broad shoulders again and pull him in for a passionate kiss; lips sensually weaving together, as you bounce on his lap a little, prompting him to continue his risky endeavours.

originally, both hands are fixed on your waist. however, he slips one down under your robe in order to rub your clit. he was expecting you to be wearing undergarments underneath the robe, but he was in for a pleasant surprise when his palm made direct contact with your damp folds, and you feel him smirk into the kiss slightly, causing you to titter.

meanwhile, his other hand swiftly got to work on pulling down the elastic of his sweats and whipping out his hardened length. while the two of you were still engaged in a heated make-out session, and his fingers were still working at your clit, he stroked himself a lazily, in an attempt to temporarily satiate his desperate hunger, but his mere hand couldn't even come close to the homey grip of your pussy. he needed to be encased in your walls urgently.

soon though, after a couple more minutes of harsh action on your clit, he reckoned you would be wet enough to take him by now. and he tested this hypothesis by dipping two meaty fingers into your pussy, stretching it out and causing you to arch your back as waves of unexpected stimulation shoot through you.

your whiney moans vibrate against his tongue, as you are still locked in an intimate kiss, and he furrows his brows in thought, prodding and stirring his fingers around your insides to assess whether your hole was lubricated enough for him to enter. and with each poke at your gummy walls, he sends another lewd moan winding down to your lips.

he yanks his fingers out, deciding that however wet you were right now would have to do because he wasn't able to wait any longer.

with that, he uses the same hand to manoeuvre his cock so it was hovering right by your dripping enterance, allowing this tip to be greased with your arousal. in doing so, you are pushed back a bit, forcing you to break free from the intense kiss with a dramatic gasp. you look at him, with your pretty chest floating up and down with each shallow breath.

he looks you in the eye sternly, with a kind glint his iris, waiting for your approval.

you nod slightly, but before you are even able to processs your own response, he's already pushed you down around his girthy length, forcing your tight pussy to suck it all up, somehow.

your eyes rolled back into your head as he did so, and an obscene, pornographic whine was pried from your throat. ushijima basked in it for only a moment before he made you ride his cock by using his grip on your waist. he set a relatively slow pace to begin with, allowing your gracious hole some time to adjust to his length, but it wasn't nearly enough.

despite that, he hastily quickened his pace, bucking his hips slightly into you with every bounce, meaning he would brush your cervix with his tip, which caused you to grunt and mewl each time. you appreciated he was trying to be thorough and having him so deep inside you might increase the chances of fertility, but you weren't entirely sure if it was worth having your cervix brusied for.

the veins on his length rubbed the most delicious parts inside you, it was like he was scratching an itch you weren't even aware of until now. your cheeks and the tips of your ear heated up with pure pleasure, and you could feel him getting warmer under your touch as well. meanwhile the molten coil inside you was only growing more rigid by the second, threatening to crumble at any moment.

his dick rammed into your hole repeatedly, at an increasingly feverish pace, eliciting a short moan or grunt from you each time, and your whole body shook. therefore, ushijima had no idea where to look — he was spoiled for choice — although he revelled in watching your tits bounce wildly around and threaten to escape the confines of your robe, he was also partially mesmerised by the way your perfect cunt consumed him so nicely.

"tight.." was all he was able to grit.

you nod, but you're too fucked out to even muster up a coherent response; your mind was almost as scrambled as your insides.

with how his dick was ploughing into your poor pussy, it wasn't long until the coil inside you snapped and you found yourself suddenly shaking and tremoring while you squirted around him, unleashing a dam of crystalline fluid over his sweats and the couch.

and the harsh squeeze of your pussy around his cock was enough to tip him over the edge of a climax too, and he groaned lowly with his eyes shut as he deposited his first load into your hole. thick warmth flooding your insides in an instant, sticking to your walls and leaving you conjested.

he stayed there for a moment, to allow you both to catch your breathes, and he pried one of his eyes open to look at your beautifully dishevelled state, "thank you, (y/n)."

you chuckle, and rest your weary head on his shoulder, "thank you, toshi."

"no, thank you." he looks down at your stomach, and strokes it tenderly with his big hand, "i can't wait to see you carry our baby."

you pout, gazing up at his cute dumb face, illuminated only by the coloured tv light, which cast shadows over his strong features. you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, and sunk into his embrace, "i can't wait either. you'll be such a good dad." you muse, dreamily.

meanwhile, he slowly eases his cock out of your hole, provoking a small hiss from you at the change. but little did you know, he was kind enough to stick his three fingers in immediately afterwards, so none of his cum threatened to spill from your leaky pussy.

"and you will be a good mother." he assures you softly, snaking an arm behind your neck to cradle your head in his arms.

then, to your surprise, he utilised this position in order to flip the two of you, so you were laying face up with your back against the couch, and he was kneeling between your legs, which he pushed spread-eagle by your knees.

it all happened so quickly, that you were already in the position before you were able to gasp, "huh?! what're you doing?"

"round two." he keeps his three fingers stuffed in your pussy while he uses his other hand to guide his erect dick towards your hole, "for the best chance of pregnancy."

#ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu smut #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x you #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima x y/n #👾nsfw #dilf⭑december

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sexybritishllama · 2 years ago

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in further neopets discord news, oh boy is there drama in my awful virtual pet game website today. strap in if you want way too much information on neopets’ broken economy

for some context, an event has just launched called the faerie festival. this is the first event to be run by the ‘new’ TNT (aka. the neopets team aka. the staff) since the leadership change, and they've said in recent editorials that this year’s faerie festival is going to be a combo of two previous popular events:

the faerie quest event, wherein people can get a free quest from a faerie every day in exchange for a reward (something that’s normally limited to random special events and therefore quite rare)

the charity corner, a highly requested event that hasn’t run since 2020, where you can donate random items to get points that can then be exchanged in a prize shop

there’s a LOT of ultimately worthless items on neopets that people gather from doing dailies and things, but charity corner actually gave a use to hoarding all of these, so people have wanted it back for ages. people have been going out of their way to hoard extra junk items for like 2 months now, after TNT teased the event in an editorial

this event was originally meant to start on 20th august, but got delayed 2 weeks, presumably because of issues behind the scenes. people were generally a bit disappointed but relieved if this meant they were going to get a proper, well prepared event without bugs

flash forward to 2nd october, the actual start of the event. nothing actually opens up for several hours on the day- that’s somewhat waved off by the fact that staff presumably need to be in the office to launch everything, a midnight launch isn’t expected

but, eventually, it opens!

well… kinda. there’s one page with one dialogue scene available and a link to an event page for spending neocash (the premium currency that costs irl money). the faerie quest page is giving out free daily quests, which is nice, but literally just the same as they did back in 2020. where’s the item recycling part? did this really need 2 weeks of delay?

the next day, the FAQ page for the event is published neopets support site (but not announced via news). still no sign of the actual event starting- seems like that might not be until moday?

as well as multiple grammatical errors, the FAQ had a few… concerning elements. most notably:

only 10 items could be donated per day

points would be awarded based on the rarity of the item, with the maximum rarity being r200-500, worth 15 points each

this meant people's hoarding of junk items for months was... essentially useless

r200-500 items basically means either hidden tower items (rare, expensive items that can only be bought in an account age locked shop with a purchase limit of 1 per day) orrrr….. neocash items. In other words, players could either spend an exorbinate amount of their in-game currency to buy up items to donate, or they could just hand over their credit card and pay to win

people were Not Happy about this

not long after info spread and the outcry started (and a sizeable number of people cancelled their premium membership in protest), the FAQ was quietly updated to remove mention of donating neocash items. that took away to pay to win element at least

however, now there was a new problem. a tombola man problem.

i mentioned already that the highest rarity items are pretty rare and expensive. one of the least expensive of these is an item called the Squeezy Tombola Guy Toy. you can probably see where this is going already

because you can only buy a maximum of one tombola guy per day from the hidden tower, your only option if you want to buy more than that in a day is to go to user shops. however, in light of the event, people had already started buying and hoarding tombola guy toys. equally, others were buying them purely to sell at a profit. this made the perfect storm and caused the price of the tombola guy toy, which was normally 110k NP, to explode up to 500k, 600k, even 700k within just one day

BUT THEN THE FAQ GOT UPDATED AGAIN. surprise, you can now donate 30 items per day! also they just got rid of the highest rarity tier altogether. the maximum you can get for an item is now 8 points, for rarity r102-r179.

this has now made the squeezy tombola guy toys useless. unless you’re a collector they don’t serve any function beyond that of a normal neopets toy (of which there’s thousands of much cheaper options). the price has now plummeted down to BELOW what it originally was and many users now have piles and piles of the dolls sitting in their inventory, mocking them

so what now? well, because no one ever learns, everyone is now flocking to what is now the cheapest high-rarity item eligible for donation. most are going for omelettes, which have a few different options at r102+. these have also inflated by like 400% from before the event, but unlike the squeeze tombola guys, these are only worth a few thousand neopoints, so not as bad a potential loss in comparison

it’s worth noting that while all this is going on in preparation for the recycling event, neopets is also experiencing insane inflation in a lot of other items right now, including those required for people to complete faerie quests. for example, a Griefer, which cost 5000 np just last week, is now worth selling for 1 MILLION

So yeah. 3 days into the event and that’s where we are so far. who knows what tomorrow might bring

#eloise talks #neopets #long post #neotag

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teambyler · 4 months ago

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The Strange Postponement of Mike and Will's relationship

If Mike and Will had remained as close as they were in Season 2 in the subsequent seasons, the "are they gay?" rumors absolutely would have spread among the General Audience, as they entered their teen/dating/sexual awakening years.

(EDIT: And the possibility of romance between them in s2 was "set aside" in our minds because the show highlighted Mike missing El and trying to find her.)

There have been peculiar writing choices that seem to have no other explanation but to postpone romantic rumors about these two.

The show does its damnedest to keep these best-friends-since-kindergarten apart once they enter puberty. The only interaction that possibly hints at romance in Season 3 is their virtual double date with Lumax where Mike is concerned for Will's well-being one time. This was necessary to reestablish their "good friendness" at the start of the season to set-up their breakup during the Rain Fight.

Then, of course, the Rain Fight happens. Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls." They effectively "break up."

But then there is the strange, interesting choice that there is never a resolution of the Rain Fight. The apology for ignoring Will's D&D game comes from Lucas instead of Mike:

Will had his blow-up with MIKE, not Lucas! And we know that Mike absolutely was DRIVEN to apologize to Will, but we don't see it. Maybe he actually did, but it was offscreen. But why not have it ON screen? Why not clear the air on whether Mike thought Will was gay and was being homophobic to Will? Why not clarify THEN that Mike is a straight ally who supports his gay best friend, setting things up for Will to have a coming-out arc where he finds a love interest who is not Mike?

Instead, the writers made sure they had NO conversations for nearly all the rest of the season. They made sure Mike was focused on trying to repair things with El and blurting out "I love her." These two things together also kept the Gay Rumors(TM) in check.

Season 4 then dramatizes how they'd GROWN APART -- specifically, how they don't seem to have stayed in touch and Mike seems to be ignoring Will.

What a strange thing for the writers to do! Mike and Will had been on good terms. That's because it was the start-of-season set-up for an ARC where they become close again.

Alright, so they soon repair things. But for what?

The Will Counseling Hour:

They literally have no conversations with each other where Will isn't comforting Mike or they're not talking about El, to the extent that much of the GA thought that Mike was "useless" and the California plotline was a "waste of time."

(Either the Duffers were bad writers or had a reason to spend so much time on the California plot. Hmm...)

The show was putting Byler in a holding pattern. The show established that Mike and Will were close again, but with a "beard" on Mike: his relationship with El. Will's attempt to talk about anything ELSE -- like playing Nintendo and D&D -- was ignored as Mike worried about El.

The Will Counseling Hour ends -- and Mike and Will talk about anything besides El -- only with their very LAST conversation of season 4, when Will shares that he can still feel Vecna. Mike is now the Counselor: Mike puts his hand on his shoulder (as opposed to not being able to touch him earlier in the season) and resolves that they will beat Vecna. The bringing of these two together, along with signs that Mike and El are drifting apart, lays the trajectory for Season 5.

Season 5 will be the first season with Unfiltered Byler(TM) since Season 2.

EVERYTHING that kept the GA from thinking about the possibility of Byler, (1) how young they were in Season 2, (2) their being kept artificially apart and (3) Mike's focus on his relationship with El, will have fallen away.

For the first time since Season 2, the A Plot of the show and Mike and Will being close ("a team") will mesh.

Meanwhile, we'll get Season 2 Mike because Will will also be the center of the story and IN DANGER. It's impossible to imagine Mike being his aloof start-of-Season-4 self. Add to all this Season 4 hormones: we're likely to see the heart-eyes romantic, Will-Voice-speaking boy in love we Bylers see in the 2nd half of Season 4.

And there's the Painting Lie, which the Duffers have told Finn Wolfhard will "pay off in the end." Mike WILL KNOW Will loves him, and loved him so much as to sacrifice himself for him.

Even if one doesn't accept Byler, one can't deny that there has to be a DIRECT RECKONING over whether Mike returns Will's feelings.

The entire structure of how the show has presented their relationship is building up toward this. The Strange Postponement of Byler had a purpose.

-teambyler

EDIT: You might enjoy my s5 speculations in "How the Duffers likely will make the general audience AWARE of Byler and CHEER for Byler" =D

#byler #we will learn what mike thinks #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #strange postponement of byler

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dduane · 2 months ago

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The Bad Armor Drinking Game

In the digital art dep't...

So, having just sorted out the new figure for Queen Eftgan in the Middle Kingdoms books, I spent most of last week (while continuing to recover from the household upper respiratory infection) doing preliminary planning for the visual of a scene from The Door Into Sunset in which all the MCs are out on the battlefield. The big battle (or the final one of a sequence) will be the next day, and last-minute tweaks are being made to strategy and tactics. Which means putting most of the our-side protagonists together in a command tent, bent over a table covered with maps. (The "sketch" for this scene is over here.)

But sweet Goddess in a bucket, the shopping I had to do to make sure I had those guys' armor the way I wanted nearly drove me around the bend. From the digital artist's POV, the main problem with this is realistically arming the female characters. And the reason for this is simple: Almost all of it that's currently available from Daz is crap.

There are a very few notable exceptions. In Eftgan's case, for example: she's wearing the female-fighter version of the male-fighter harness that Herewiss has on. Sickleyield and Moonscape Graphics have done good work here.

But almost all the other female-use armors available at the moment? Argh. It had been ...a few years, I guess? since I last went armor-shopping. Last week I'd hoped there might at least be some new possibilities in the Daz shop. But instead I found so much more useless crap than before that I was tempted to start day drinking. And by evening, there were enough drink-triggers to start my very own drinking game.

I am not going to illustrate the triggers enumerated below, as I don't want to embarrass the artists. But if you look at the items turned up by this search, you'll have little trouble finding the things that would have left me in a drunken stupor within an hour or two.

My baseline: if I'm going to buy digital armor, either for male or female characters, it has to be something that I myself wouldn't be embarrassed to show up wearing at a swordfight. Otherwise, I start hitting the virtual bottle.

So I'd drink when I see:

Armor that fails to cover or at least protect vital vulnerable areas. Not just vital organs, but seriously important places like the insides of thighs and arms, the throat area, etc. (And yeah, I know and enjoy the various webcomics that illustrate, for humor's sake, the idea that the more bare flesh a female warrior displays, the safer they somehow are. But I'm dealing with the "realistic" side of combat here. Yes, some of my characters are magic workers, but the reason they go out and get themselves armor is so they don't have to waste precious magical ability dealing with something that steel will manage perfectly well without them having to think about it.)

Armor that should serve a useful protective purpose but nonetheless doesn't because it's been twisted by the armor maker, for design purposes, into a shape that means it's now essentially useless. Drink, for example, on seeing an example of "Silly Pauldron Syndrome:" i.e., shoulder pieces that will not only not protect you from a shoulder cut, but will direct it toward the space between neck and shoulder. ...Drink again if the pauldron also somehow blocks your view of what's going on around you. Another drink for pauldrons, gorgets or neck pieces that poke your eye out when you turn your head.

Armor covered with decorative doodads that do nothing but get in your way or serve as something for your adversaries' weapons to catch on. The proper purpose of armor is to deflect blows away from vulnerable areas, not to catch and keep them there. No one is going to waste expensive metal (and armourers' labor time) on decorations that are a liability. Anything that would catch a thrusting sword? Drink. Drink twice if spikes are involved.

Poorly thought-out attachments to armor (loincloths, capes, etc), Drink if these would inevitably trip you or otherwise interfere with you if you tried to run in them: or that would make it easier for an attacker—especially from behind—to pull/knock you down and kill you. Two drinks if the attachments are asymmetrical. (Because, what, this is supposed to help somehow?) And drink for loincloths in general, because, FFS, why.

Boob armor. If you're a woman who's fought with the sword at all, you know that unless you're absolutely dead flat in front, you bind up somehow to get the frontage safely restrained before the action begins. Armor that purports to separate your breasts into two different casings is simply idiotic. All that it does do is signal that you're female. (And you're doing this why, exactly? On a this-world battlefield, this strikes me as nothing but a recipe for trouble.) One drink for boob armor. Another drink for conical boob armor that would make even early!Madonna look askance. Two drinks for boob armor that covers only the tops of the boobs. Honestly, WTF!!

And: Armor that just looks silly. Armor that makes you go "Oh FFS, give me a break now" and look away. Two drinks (or more) for armor that covers hardly any of your character, but for which the designer is possibly charging you even more than for an intricately made and well thought-out piece of work with a lot more protective real estate.

...(sigh) So many drinks. And so little armor worth having. ...Anyway, I got away from that series of shopping sessions with my sobriety intact. Small mercies.

But let me show you something hilarious that came up along the way.

Very, very few of the people making and selling armors on Daz betray any sign of a sense of humor in their marketing images. The rig below, though, popped up suddenly and reduced me to gasps of helpless laughter.

This, I kid you not, will come up in that "armor" search above. Let's be charitable and refer to it for the time being as "fighting gear".

I haven't shown you the best of this, though. These two figures weren't alone. There was another.

This guy should be an example to us all. He's thinking, "They're gonna make me go out there wearing some stick-on leather nipple straps and half a rug from IKEA? Fine. I'm gonna make it work." ...And he not only owns it: he rocks it. This is a badass of some kind or another, and he has my sword, or axe, or whatever.

All I can say is: Good on the product designer for doing something genuinely funny for a change: because at that point, I seriously needed it.

(sigh) And now back to work.

ETA: A quick note per various recommendations of others online doing this kind of analysis: Thanks, but I don't need to go outside the household for more of the same. I'll just yell up the stairs to @petermorwood, who probably has some that's way more acerbic than mine. :)

#digital art #Daz Studio #Middle Kingdoms meta #(-ish)#Bad Armor Drinking Game

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liljizzy86 · 2 months ago

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pls i need an angst/fluff with quinn and how he’s been since the canucks have virtually fallen apart in post season.

Little ball of anxiety and worry

Quinn Hughes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Quinn is exhausted and his girl knows it better than anyone

Warnings: Angst, sad Quinn, like really sad Quinn

Author: Thank you for the request <3, I had fun writing this one. It was my first time writing angst, so I hope it wasn't so bad. And once again sorry for not posting for so long, but I really want to go back to write and do it more frequently. Love you all, stay safe.

––//—-

The season is officially over.

In a way, Quinn feels alleviate, he can rest a bit now.

But at the same time he feels more stressed than ever. He tried everything to make this season work, and as the captain all of the weight of not being able to get in the playoff ends in his back.

He feels like he is the only one to blame for the decline of performance on the team. Even if his girl, that was waiting for him at home right now, tries to remind him that hockey is a team sport, it is no one's fault, and even less Quinn’s fault.

He tries to keep that in mind, tries to calm himself down, but that is difficult when he is in front of all these journalists that as they do his job, they seem to remind him of his worries.

It is his fault.

The Canucks are not in the playoffs and it is his fault.

I only want to go home

When he is finally free from the media, he is working in automatic.

No celebrating.

He can’t even remember saying ‘goodbye’ to the team or the staff.

Quinn only knows that he changed his clothes, going to his car and driving home. Not because he remembers doing it, but because he can actively see it done, as he seats in the driver's seat of his car, breathing, practicing the smile he is gonna sport as soon as he opens the apartment door and sees his girlfriend.

And that’s what he does.

Exactly what he expects to happen, does.

His efforts to fake a wellness that he doesn’t feel were as useless as he knew were gonna be. As soon as the girl on the couch saw his face, she immediately knew that something was wrong and what was wrong.

She knew her boyfriend like the palm of her hand.

As soon as the sound of the door was heard, she was off the couch and rushing to hug him.

Of course she knew that he was sad, depressed even, but she never expected for it to be so…visible?

Since they started dating, 3 years ago, Quinn would always hide his emotions, not because he was afraid of seeming weak, but because he didn’t want to worry her excessively. This relationship was his first that the girl actually cared for his well being, of his mental wellness. This girl was the first that would cuddle with him and let him vent, and worry about it.

But this was the first time in those 3 years that, even with a fake smile in his face, he looked exhausted.

He couldn't hide his emotions, his tiredness.

“Come here,baby” That was the first thing Quinn her as she approached.

No ‘hi’, no ‘how are you’.

She didn’t need that, and neither did Quinn.

All she wants right now is to cuddle and make him feel safe and at least a bit better.

“I tried…” He whispered in her shoulder.

He hunched over her and accepted her hug.

She guided them to the couch, where she delicately pushed both down and laid with him on top.

The boy's body immediately melted over her touch, still tense but just her as a whole, her touch, her smell, her presence, is enough for him to relax, even if just a little bit.

For the first time in very long, Quinn let himself be vulnerable in front of anyone else.

“I swear I tried to make it happen.” Still whispering, this time in her shoulder, he lets the tears free. “I know we have been out of the playoffs for a while now but…” a sigh.

“It feels real now.” The girl finishes, feeling him nod slightly.

He continues to mumble on her, crying, saying more disconnected words than proper sentences. But she doesn’t stop him, he needs to let it all out, it has been bottled up for so long. Any of her words of encouragement would have any effect, so she remains in silence, just comforting him, hearing his laments, just sliding a hand over his back going up and messing with hair.

That went for about an hour, when his cries subsided.

She looked down, trying to see if Quinn was awake or not.

He was. Brownish eyes looking back at her.

“Feeling a little better, love?” She asked, still scratching his scalp.

“Yeah.” He says. “ I am just so exhausted. If the team fails, all the journalists blame it on me. If the team wins, suddenly it is a team effort. I’m just so tired of being blamed for everything, even when I have absolutely no control. It gets to a point that I start to believe them, you know, that it is all my fault. It isn’t my fault that the team is shit.” He speaks this time in full sentences and with no strong sobs. “I know that we could’ve done better, I know it for a fact, and I blame myself for it everyday. Everytime i look at the stats, the only thing I can think of is ‘dammit, I could have led this team a whole different way, and maybe we would be at the playoffs’. But we’re not, and I can't change the past. If I could’ve done differently I would. But I can't. Of course I get the harsher of it all, I mean, I am the captain. But I don’t see the future and I can't change the past. And it is not like I am trying to sabotage the team, my own team, right? I don’t know, baby, I…I think I just need to sleep it off a bit. Maybe tomorrow I feel better.”

She doesn’t contradicts. She only agrees.

The couple gets up from the couch and goes to their room, where they change into their pajamas and get ready for bed.

Once both of them cuddle under the sheets, legs tangled and arms intertwined. Quinn lays on his back, trying to look at the ceiling, in order to avoid the girl's gaze from his chest.

“Quinny, love.” she tries to call his attention. “Look at me, love. Please. ”

He doesn’t want to. He wants to avoid this conversation, at least now. But he can’t resist her pleadings. So he does. His eyes connect with hers.

God, he loved those eyes. Always so shiny, and bright, full of life.

“It is not your fault.” She directs him a small cute smile. One that he can’t resist but to retrieve. “You are not the one to blame for. Yes you are the captain but you cannot control a hundred percent of what all of your players or the other team’s do throughout the season. You do not control when you get injuries and even when you play through them, you can only do so much.” Her hand that was sprawled on his belly, now makes its way to his face, where she scratches his bearded cheek. “You are the best captain that the team could ask for. But baby, I know this is easier for me to ask than for you to do, and I do not blame you for it, you are a little ball of anxiety and worry, I know it, but please at least try, if you can try it for yourself, try it for me. But baby, I beg you, try to leave this behind your back now, for the summer. The season is over and now you are off season, let's look ahead. From August ahead you have a full new season to worry and to stress over. But now, you are in the off season. So please let's relax a bit, yeah?”

He let’s a little laugh at her.

“Sure baby, I’ll try it for you and for our peaceful summer.” he kissed the top of her head and lets out a sigh, visibly more calm, less tense. “Now please, let’s sleep. I had a very long day and I am extremely tired.”

She just nods and scutches closer to him, making sure her head is comfortably laid in his chest, ready for both of them to sleep.

“Goodnight Quinny”

“Goodnight love.”

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes

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antimonyandthyme · 6 months ago

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for anon who talked about carlos gnawing hoodies

“And he was red,” Oscar continued, almost red in the face himself with all the effort he was making. “He had speckled paws. Did you know that virtually all Australian cattle dogs have a white marking of some sort on their forehead?”

Carlos was starting to take pity on Oscar. “I do not know that, no.”

It was a concession, a peace offering. Carlos could count on one hand the number of times he’d admitted to anyone, I do not know. Oscar only looked more panicked, which was not the intended reaction.

“He would nip, as cattle dogs tend to do, you know? Whenever I got close, he’d nip at my heels like he was trying to herd me. It never hurt because he had excellent bite inhibition, he never broke skin. He was gentle. But he got into so much trouble, because strangers always thought he was going for them.” Oscar stopped rambling abruptly, and stared at some spot on the ground. “They nearly had him put down, once.”

Carlos fingered the collar of Oscar’s hoodie, very slightly damp from where he just had it in between his teeth. The orange could never be averse to him, not like the red, now. And it always smelled so unobtrusive, because Oscar did not believe in Febreeze. It was warm, warmer than the ones he owned.

There was no point in trying to hide in Oscar’s clothes, and he fought the useless itch to hedgehog his way back into the couch. This was a lot of words for Oscar. Carlos turned them over and over in his head until a comparison crystallized, with edges sharp enough to cut him clean.

“It’s a bad habit, I know,” Carlos said, confident he did not sound too wounded.

“No,” Oscar said with such vehemence that Carlos nearly flinched. “That’s not what I meant, no.”

They met each other’s eyes, and that seemed to spur Oscar into action. He launched himself up, clambered over the innocent throw pillow situated equidistant between them. As clumsy as Carlos had ever seen him. Or as Oscar had ever allowed Carlos to see him. Carlos felt like he was floundering two steps behind as Oscar grabbed his shoulders with an urgency he didn’t understand.

“I don’t know why I said all that,” Oscar said, shaking Carlos a little. “Ignore it, ignore it please. I was being stupid.”

“Okay,” Carlos said. His hands found Oscar’s wrists, soothing even though he did not yet know what for.

“No, not okay,” Oscar said. “That was mean.”

“I know you weren’t trying to be,” Carlos said. It was a fair deduction, with how distressed Oscar was looking. “And anyway,” he shrugged. “It is a bad habit.”

“I like you doing that,” Oscar said, stubborn. On a good day he could give Carlos a run for his money. “Better my clothes than your skin.”

Ah. Carlos’s chest contracted weakly. “Another bad habit,” he said quietly.

Oscar squeezed his shoulders tighter. “Almost as bad as drying clothes in an oven.”

“There is nothing as bad as that,” Carlos said. “You are comparing a habit with a crime, Oscar.”

Oscar huffed, meeting Carlos’s shaky smile with his own. Practicing unfurling in Oscar’s presence was getting easier by the day. Soon it’d be no effort at all.

“I like you in my clothes,” Oscar mumbled. So he was practicing too. “I like you wearing them and I like you warm in them and I like you—”

“Biting them?” Carlos suggested.

“Shut up. I don’t know why. My brain to mouth filter doesn’t work with you.”

“So you decided to compare me to a dog,” Carlos said. It made sense in some way. Oscar’s thought-processes could get as convoluted as Carlos’s. “That had to be put down.”

Oscar glanced at him, almost fearful, before he realized Carlos could barely hide his teasing grin.

“Stop,” thwack, Oscar thumped at Carlos’s chest, “making,” thwack, “me,” thwack, “feel,” thwack, “bad.”

Carlous couldn’t stop the cackle escaping him, earning him another thwack.

“And he didn’t get put down, okay? He’s doing fine.”

“Is he,” Carlos asked of the wayward dog.

Oscar stilled, and then, very deliberately, lowered himself fully into Carlos’s lap. The heat from Oscar’s hoodie and the heat from Oscar’s body, flush against his, and the heat from looking up at Oscar from this angle, was making it very hard to concentrate. There were only so many allegories he could conjure up before he started thinking himself in dizzying circles.

Oscar trailed the knuckle of his index finger down Carlos’s cheek, slowly enough that Carlos could measure the space between one heartbeat and the next. A nudge against his lips, and Carlos parted his mouth obediently. Oscar inserted his finger like it belonged there, key into a lock. The first knuckle, then the second, past the yielding gate of Carlos’s bared teeth.

Nothing touched. Carlos’s throat fluttered in anticipation, made some embarrassing, pleading noise. Encouragement, direction, anything. Please, please. Oscar waited him out, patient.

For Carlos to close his teeth, secure them around Oscar’s knuckle. Press down, intent clearer than any imprint he could ever leave. The pressure there but not too much. He held Oscar’s finger between his teeth, knowing full well he could hurt, knowing full well he could never. He held it there for as long as Oscar wanted, until he lost track of the time.

“Easy,” Oscar said, stroking Carlos’s burning cheek, and Carlos let go on command.

Around Oscar’s knuckle weaved a red mark that sat perfectly like a ring. Oscar stared at it as if he were trying to commit the indent to memory. Carlos’s breath eased from a rattle to a hum, his brain thankfully wiped clean of metaphors.

“Think he is,” Oscar said, flexing his fingers experimentally. His other hand still on Carlos's cheek, an anchor. “Yeah.”

#athy texts #fanfic #rpf #carcar

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pigeonpeach · 1 year ago

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Genshin men as cats!

Prompt: the genshin men are temporarily turned into cats for one day and you as their lover must take care of them and make sure they stay safe

A/n: idk what happened but apparently half of the post got deleted? I’ll have to rewrite it later ;(

Ayato

Oh he’s not happy. He’s probably a shorthaired white cat in terms of appearance. But he is quite annoyed with this predicament. No one is allowed to tell anyone that the Yashiro Commissioner is suddenly a cat. But being a cat is nice. He can lounge and nap all day. He’s probably demanding of attention though. He simply must have your eyes on him. He adores being brushes so lovingly too. Maybe he should have you brush his hair when he’s back to normal.

Al Haitham

Virtually no change. He may still try to read though he won’t be able to turn the pages as easily. He doesn’t mind a few pats but he mostly prefers to be left alone in the nice warm sun to nap the day away. He’s definitely a grey tabby.

Kaveh

He is so distraught! He meows a storm in fustration as he finds he is completely incapable of finishing his projects! You simply must take care of him! You need to have him strapped in like a baby carrier on your chest because he’s just so clingy. He needs constant reassurance and attention. He’s so needy but so cute. Probably a cute little cream colored kitty.

Kaeya

He is also probably a bit annoyed. While yes he gets a complete day off, he can’t do much as a cat. So he’ll probably try to find some entertainment if you don’t keep him thoroughly entertained. He will find a way to sneak out and go play with Klee or annoy Diluc if you don’t keep him in your grasp at all times.

Neuvillette

He is very confused but also curious. On one hand this form is verrrry different than he’s ever had before but its also very beneficial to him. People are far less intimidated and strangely he enjoys being coddled and pet more than he would. Of course miss Furina is teasing the crap out of him but he doesn’t really care. Sitting on your lap, small and warm. Its such a unique experience he will probably never have again.

Wriothesley

Once the dust settles he’s quite relaxed. This is temporary so might as well enjoy it. Sigewinnie has become very attached to him as she constantly makes sure he’s okay. But in particular he loves being held by you. He’s used to being the big strong man who lifts you all the time etc etc. its nice actually being the reverse here. He gets fed special fish from the cafeteria and gets to spend his day in your arms! The perfect break for him! He’s almost sad it’s temporary but he knows he can’t stay like this forever.

Childe

Oh he’s mad! Even when it’s confirmed to be temporary, he is annoyed! How can he improve his fighting skills if he’s a kitty! Sure he’s a adorable little kitty of course but he looks like a baby! Oh his ego is in shatters. It’s unfortunate too because it wasn’t even around his family so he could play with his little brother at least. He’s practically quarantined to keep him safe. He can’t go on kitty adventures. Therefore YOU must make it up to him. He spends his time sulking and trying to play with anything he can. Dangling uniform piece? New toy! Someone’s foot? New toy! He bites! He meows! He hardly naps. He does love cuddling with you though. Still he’s a ball of energy and he cannot simply sit still for long! No doubt will his office be trashed. You’re making him clean it up once he’s back.

Thoma

Stressed! So stressed! He has so many chores! He cannot hold a broom with two paws! You have to make arrangements for him to have the day off which was hard because everyone was upset by his sudden cancellation. Even so he tries to help. He tries to drag the broom but it doesn’t do anything unfortunately. Oh he feels so useless. You must pamper him. Lavish him with kisses and gentle praise. Call him the cutest little kitty in the world! Oh he’s such a affectionate boy too. He acts like a cat with separation anxiety almost. He cannot sleep if you’re not there with him. Therefore you end up spending the day with him, trying to dissuade him from trying to clean a mess and just making it worse, distracting him with a warm blanket and pets.

Zhongli

He probably did so on purpose actually. Perhaps he was a bit bored and decided to spend the day exploring Liyue from a different perspective. It was quite fun for him actually. He watched as people came over to pet him. Unfortunately they also tried to feed him seafood which wasn’t too good. But after the long day he returned home to see you panicked as to where he could be. He decided to come on over to you, still in his cat form, and distract you. It worked as he helped you relax.

You werent too amused when you found out that cat that broke in was him.

Pantalone

He is quite annoyed. Angry in a more agitated way. Don’t mess up his fur! Pet him properly! Don’t ignore him now! He is a demanding little feline. He is not content unless you are entirely focused on him. He even wants you to break up the fish ro serve to him. He isn’t going to eat like a animal! Oh but he is such s cute kitty. Entirely black with big expressive yellow eyes. Oh you can’t help but comply and spoil him a little more! And he has such lovely fur! He does like hearing your gentle praises as you pet him. He never knew how lovely it felt to be small, sleeping on a nice warm lap, being gently brushed, and told sweet little compliments. He may actually want to do this again sometime.

Diluc

Biggest drama king! How can he protect you or Mondstadt like this! Therefore you cannot leave his sight or he’s convinced you will immediately die. You must stay with him so he can protect you? He is a very warm kitty though so it feels nice to snuggle with him. His fur is a bit messy so you’ll have to brush it. Despite him trying to stay vigilant he ends up falling asleep quickly.

#genshin imagines #diluc x you #genshin x y/n #childe x reader #pantalone #pantalone x you #ayato x y/n #thoma x reader #neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #wriothesley x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #kaveh x reader #al haitham x reader

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prettyboykatsuki-moved · 4 months ago

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slip | sunday (hsr)

✮ tags ; dead-dove: do not eat, fem + afab!reader, noncon intercrural sex, reader in captivity, drugging, general yandere. takes place during penacony, before sunday joined the express, some incestual undertones bc of sunday and robin, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.7k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @borz01 that took me way too long to edit. forgive me and happy very late bday.

there is also like. virtually no dialogue in this.

Sunday doesn’t allow himself this often.

Not often enough. It’s rare he allows things to slip through the delicate cracks in the barrier of his resolute ideals. Desire is a burdensome thing. Harboring it guarantees some level of vulnerability, for wanting something for the sake of wanting alone is an omission of humanity. It’s human to want things. Sunday is not, should not—allow himself any indulgence. His duty is to remain righteous and steadfast as to not sway from the ultimate outcome. To maintain the sweet dream and bring bliss to all beings, Sunday knows he must not want for anyone at all.

It’s a mark of his weakness to allow himself this. You are a mark of his weakness.

You’ve a warm demeanor. A kind but firm gentleness that reminds him of his dear Robin. Robin too, is an avatar of the new world. Something untouchable that Sunday knows better to desire for. But he does, or he did. You had been meant to fill her place. He isn’t sure that’s the case anymore. Regardless, her place in the world on a pedestal in a gilded cage - the kind of place where she must be available for all to see no matter how much he may resent it.

But you—you are an ordinary facet of this dream. You remind him of his sister but you’re not her. You’re kind and dutiful, warm and resilient. The first time you spoke to Sunday, the sweet lilt of your voice was enough to make him wonder about you endlessly. It was these things that drew him to you in the first place. A replacement would be sufficient enough to keep his desires at bay should they get in the way of his goals.

Slowly though, that faded. No longer a quick fix, something that he did not need absolutely. The longer and more often Sunday crossed paths with you, the stronger his desire to possess you was. All things were that way with him.

And at first, it was enough to do that from afar. To cross paths with you and speak in short bursts. Let you roam free while also keeping close watch on you. Keep you on an invisible leash instead of the chain one he does now.

But nothing stays the same, is easy for Sunday. And the closer things get to the inevitable new world, the more human Sunday feels. While things collapse, and the distance between him and Robin grows, and everything else comes closer to inevitable to annihilation—the stronger the pull of his desire becomes.

Sunday capturing you was a methods of self-soothing. That’s why it felt worthwhile. A vessel stained by the filth of want is not a worthy one. Keeping you safe, at his disposal, unable to flee sated his stronger urges. The path of dreamers so often paved in destruction—Sunday thought, there was no better a way to resolve this. He’ll keep you here. Hide you from the world, from the destruction. You’ll live in the sweet dream of his together and he can wash his hands of his unsavory feelings without a second thought.

Still, he’s an upright person. Keeping you captive does not incite any cruelty in him. You’re bathed and fed and cared for. He lets you play with as many things as you like as long as it’s within in the confines of your room. Aside from freedom, he can acquire for you anything. He does it all for you.

Rarely does he invite himself into your room for self-gratification. Placing a limit on his sexual desires is a self-imposed way of handling his own discipline. He pleasures you to wring the useless thoughts of escape you may have left lingering, but he never takes it for himself. He’s above that kind of barbarism.

But the desire remains steadfast inside of him. No matter how much he wants to restrain it, or rid himself of it—it wells and well and wells until it inevitably boils over. The closer the dream comes to fruition, the harder it is to put a lid on what he wants. Soon he will forget want at all.

(Truthfully, the thought leaves him so slightly empty)

Sunday figures the best way to end his misery is to relieve the pressure threatening to ruin him.

Crawling into your bedroom in the late of night to relieve himself of these urges feels like just the right way to do it.

You sleep in the soft bed that Sunday has provided you. Chained by the ankle and unable to escape without supervision. You’ve been held here for long enough to not fight rest come evening.

Still, Sunday thought it best not to wake you. You sleep more soundly than usual thanks to something slipped in your food this evening. Peaceful and unaware, you lay on one side with your head tucked against a pillow. White sleeping gown draped over your figure, sheer and see through - with nothing underneath to give him easy access.

The bed creaks under his weight as you lay undisturbed. Deep breaths accompanied by a soft snoring, the slow rise and fall of your chest. Sunday creeps next to you slowly, carefully. You remain completely undisturbed even as he pulls you to him flush. Your heavy limbs limp as he tugs you close enough to curb the lingering desires.

For a long while, he presses his nose to the bare skin of your shoulder where your nightgown slips, and huffs the skin. A deep, long exhale that leaves him lightheaded, his pants tightening at the warm scent of your skin and linen.

His hands normally covered are bare. The skin of his palms almost feel sensitive as they sit on your hip from behind. Down your leg until he reaches the very hem of your slip and pulls it up and over. His breath catches at the sight of skin he’s seen so many times before - his fingers trailing until you’re covered in goosebumps.

You’re the object of his affection. It’s not the first time he’s had his way with your body. But doing it while you’re unconscious, unaware - truly and completely as his mercy incites a dizzying feeling.

His fingers trace lightly until he slips his hands between your thighs, fingers brushing at your core. Slipping deep enough between your folds to be noticeable. You’re still asleep, expression unchanging.

He swallows something down. A deep, shaky breath escaping his lips as the pent-up desire lingering in him flows through his veins. Blood hot with lust, breathing heavy - something desperate and visceral shattering the hollow in his bones.

He’s dizzy with it. After suppressing it incessantly, just this much relief has him trembling, shaking. It’s weakness. Sheer, unbeatable, human weakness. Primitive desires that bind him in the knowledge he is painfully far from where he needs to be.

But the pleasure of your body—your unrestricted, bare, unconscious body—makes something in him burn so hot he cannot will himself to ignore it.

His hands trembling as he uses them to unzip his slacks. He pulls his cock out quietly, almost anxiously - until it’s warm and throbbing in his hands.

Without ceremony, he slips his length in between your bare thighs and shivers. Flesh to flesh, all warmth and wet and slickness. Pre-cum slips from the tip of his cock as he rubs it against your slit. Your body responds to the pleasure even asleep. Your pussy twitches against the silky head of his cock, wetting it.

Sunday presses his nose to your skin and inhales sharper.

Desire makes him greedy. His hands slip further under your gown all the way up to your breasts, squeezing the fat of your chest as he ruts himself against your pussy with undeniable fervor and huffs your scent, intoxicated by you. Despite you being limp and helpless, the sensations you provide make his heart thrum endlessly. Beat by beat, steadily filling each and every part of him. It’s this part of you the Sunday can’t get enough of.

You, a perfect and single answer to his avarice. Sunday kisses the space between neck and shoulder with desperation. Humping against you faster and faster like a rabbit in heat, humping against your clit as your pussy soaks against his hard length. The inside of your thighs are slick, noisy as he fucks between them.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispers, his voice thick with lust. Terribly sincere, just as helpless to you as you are to him in a way. “Just perfect,”

You twitch in your sleep. Expression unchanging, your body responds in kind to Sundays touch. It only serves to arouse him more, deepen his desires until their void and black. Sunday knows that this is not something he should be doing. Knows that fucking your thighs with such unbidden desires is something he should be far over now - the same way it should’ve been all those years ago.

But he cannot help but want this, want you. Needs some way to curb it lest it take him over completely. Sunday knows, deep down, he would let it.

(Some childish part of him wants to stay like this. Keep you here forever, and keep himself in such close proximity to your company regardless of what may happen. Away, trapped in these four walls and undisturbed. Nothing to repent for, nothing to confront.

Only the little dove he’s determined to keep. Only you and him alone in this unending, pleasant dream.)

Something in Sundays stomach stirs as he comes closer and closer to the edge. His hands grip your middle as he fucks against your thighs slowly - savoring each slip of his cock until the coil inside of him slowly unravels. He moans quietly, the sound reverberating into your shoulder.

His hips stutter as his orgasm rips through him. Thick, hot, white ropes of cum spilling - coating his length as he fucks himself through it to the end. Staining your body with him, making him shudder all over.

Your thighs are sticky with semen, still sleeping peacefully. Sunday slips away from you, rubbing whats remaining on your skin until he pulls down your night gown.

A delicate gesture for his one and only capture. The only thing left to be his alone in the world. This much greed is only what he’s due.

#sunday x reader #sunday smut #hsr x reader #hsr smut #noncon cw #yandere cw #incest cw #dark content cw

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headspace-hotel · 6 months ago

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my perspective on invasive plant species has changed a lot lately

like I think current methods of dealing with invasive species are good for one thing, maintaining the existence of native ecosystems in spite of the presence of invasive species.

what they are NOT good for, is actually eradicating the invasive species, and I think we have to be upfront about the fact that it's impossible to eradicate an invasive plant across an area the size of Europe

I was thinking about the recent legislation against Bradford pears and the "Bradford pear bounties" that have been happening lately and like...we are thirty years too late.

the research shows that invasive species spend substantial time adapting to the new ecosystem before they "breach containment" and become invasive. The crucial period for stopping a species invasion is way before it becomes noticeably a problem. The existence of a single spontaneous tree popping up in a fence line or vacant lot a hundred meters from an intentionally planted tree intuitively seems to pose virtually no threat, but it indicates that the introduced species has reproduced sexually and produced an offspring that successfully lives in a less cultivated environment than its parents. Once a few different locations have instances of the non-native tree growing successfully in these marginal areas, the plant is actively working on adapting to the new habitat

Once there is a population spreading outside areas directly adjacent to planted trees, legislating against the tree in that area is as good as useless. Pandora's box is already open. The number of new trees that were intentionally planted will be such a tiny percentage of the total number in the breeding pool.

What WOULD be helpful, is legislating against the tree in areas where there isn't a feral population yet. But people won't do that because "they aren't invasive here!" They aren't invasive there yet.

It occurs to me that destroying cultivated instances, like with the Bradford pear bounty, might actually be worse than doing nothing in areas that are already overrun, because it's removing the cultivated, less fit genetics from the gene pool. In the early stages of invasion repeated backcrossing with the non-feral cultivars probably slows down the dissemination of the naturally-selected, feral genetics.

Of course, there are so many more feral Bradford pears than cultivated Bradford pears that it makes little difference, and they're being replaced with native trees, so I'm all for it.

The strongest focus for legislation needs to be on restricting introduction of new cultivars of an already introduced species, and on restricting introduction of non-native species outright.

This is unlikely to fly with the landscaping and nursery industry, and complicated by the ambiguity of "native" and "non-native."

#plants #the ways of the plants

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thewertsearch · 5 months ago

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Ah, the Sylladex. Across the entirety of my long, long journey through this comic, you've remained my oldest and dearest friend.

I honestly thought you'd run out of ways to surprise me - but as usual, I underestimated just how far you can really go with punch-card alchemy.

You flip the card over and look at the back. The thing about this modus you think is really cool is that instead of showing a completely useless wobbly garbled code on the back, it itemizes the components which could be used to create it!

The comic has just given us a way to reverse-engineer item recipes, which was one of the only missing pieces left to slot into the alchemy system. Back in Act 4, John was convinced that this was impossible, but Sollux solved it off-panel, and now we know how he did it.

This is pretty crazy, isn't it? We can deconstruct items now, allowing us to disassemble any object, and take a peek at the concepts that it's synthesized from. The potential utility here is insane. If this modus works on ghost images, we could tear apart a Kernelsprite, and see what makes it tick. Hell, we could tear apart a Genesis Frog.

...we could tear apart Skaia.

Just another wonderful innovation by your favorite company. It releases many products of an experimental nature, often with applicability to other kinds of technology and products which haven't hit the market yet.

But, of course, this wonderful innovation comes with some serious strings attached. I'm sure it was given to Jane for a reason, and she'll undoubtedly end up using it in a way that causes problems for us, and solutions for Lord English.

Ayy, it's the Matriorb!

Granted, this doesn't really help Kanaya recreate the thing. The orb's code was never that hard to obtain - just draw it on Jade's Pictionary modus, or something. No, the real issue is that the Matriorb is virtually inimitable, and as a result, its Grist cost is astronomical. Plus, it requires a type of Grist that we've never even seen before.

Edit: Wait, hang on. That's not the cost of the Matriorb, that's how much it would cost to use the Matriorb to make the hat. Strange, that the same item can have multiple Grist costs - but nonetheless, my point still stands. The Matriorb is probably too expensive to alchemize casually.

I suppose there's nothing stopping us from editing the Matriorb's code to try and make it cheaper. Like, perhaps we could scale down the recipe somehow, and try to just synthesize a single troll's genome, rather than the genetic base of an entire race. That would be a lot more affordable, and still useful.

You captchalogue your FAVORITE HAT, which is also your ONLY HAT. You spent basically your ENTIRE CHILDHOOD in this hat, pretending to be hard boiled detectives and whatnot.

I guess it sort of makes sense that the Matriorb can be used to make Dad's hat. The orb represents Alternian parenthood, and the book of prophecies it was merged with could represent the future. Combine those two concepts, and you get the future of parenthood, from the perspective of Alternia - in other words, the parenthood of humanity. So, the merger yields an item representing a human parent: Dad Egbert's hat.

Don't ask me about the potted plant, though. I haven't the foggiest.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 6 #s177 #4123

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vanilladove · 1 year ago

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♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ sinful angel

gif creds the-chikyuu-times

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ pairing: hacker!fyodor x camgirl!reader

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ genre: smut w/ plot; 18+ only mdni!!!!!!

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ content warnings: light bsd manga spoilers, dubious consent + manipulation, sexwork mentions, sex toy use, slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, some degrading (+ lots of praise to balance it out)

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ summary: you've caught the eye of cybercriminal fyodor dostoevsky, who regards you as his sweet angel. watching you isn't enough to satisfy the lurking demon, who wants nothing but to corrupt you. translation notes: "milaya" = sweetheart, "shlyukha" = whore

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ word count: 5.7k

Fyodor sighed in annoyance, running his hands through his dark hair as he looked at all the computer screens in front of him. He was tracking down an arms dealer that was nothing but a pawn ready to be disposed of. The monitor displayed footage from the dealer's apartment, and showed him standing in the lobby making a phone call.

By the way he was hurriedly whispering, Fyodor could tell he was trying to be discreet. It was useless. The dealer was too occupied trying to hide his words from the security guard that he didn't even realize Fyodor had hacked into his phone and was listening in on the whole conversation. It had already been thirty minutes, and the hacker felt restless, waiting for the stupid pawn to just go back to his room and find the sweet gift awaiting him—another henchman ready to shoot him dead.

The dark haired man anxiously bit his fingernail until he heard something—no, it must've been the voice of an angel—through the recording of the dealer's phone conversation. His eyes narrowed onto the source of the voice from the screen.

There you stood, wearing a pastel pink and white lacy top, white cotton maxi skirt, white flats, and a ribbon in your flowing hair. You sweetly greeted the security guard, giving them a fresh pastry that you'd presumedly just bought. Your saccharine voice and mannerisms struck Fyodor's cold heart, snapping him out of his boredom. A precious anomaly in a world of pawns and subordinates, an angel.

His magenta eyes followed your movements towards the elevator, and his fingers instinctively typed in code to display the elevator's camera feed onto a different monitor, noting your floor number and the room number transcribed onto your keys. Pulling up another set of cameras for your floor's hallway and your attached balcony, Fyodor watched as you entered your unit and set your bag down on the dining table, pulling out a strawberry custard tart and going to the kitchen to pull out a mug and a teabag. He smiled, watching you brew his favorite blend of black tea and pulling out your laptop to find a show to watch while enjoying your midday treat. In his eyes, you were a woman of fine taste. An elegant lady that held herself to the highest standards of purity and grace. Your apartment was clean, with the right amount of cute, feminine touches and white lace everywhere. Truly a sight for sore eyes, and the perfect relief for an overworked criminal mastermind like himself.

The dealer's phone call suddenly ending interrupted Fyodor's daydreams as he turned his back to the screen showing you and watched the dealer take the elevator. He guessed it would take forty-five minutes or so to get the job done and cover all the tracks of the murder. After that, he promised his attention would be on you again.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Fyodor Dostoevsky was a lonely man. Throughout his many lifetimes, he'd never sought out a companion, nor did he necessarily have the desire to. More and more, he found himself displeased by the new generations of sinners, unimpressed by virtually everyone. He didn't care much for consuming media, but for some reason he had a strong urge to watch the movie with you. Judging your character, he was sure you were watching some cheesy rom-com or a soapy drama. He was intrigued and bewitched by you and your sweet nature, which was why he couldn't help hacking into your laptop to see what you were watching, planning a 'movie-date' of sorts in his mind.

What he wasn't expecting to see was you spread open, in white lace lingerie and stockings, touching yourself.

Fuck, were you recording yourself?

His eyes widened, watching your manicured nails circle around your glossy clit, panting as you ran your fingers up and down your opening. Your thin panties were pulled to the side, leaving your bare cunt on display, slick dripping down. You whined and bucked your hips as you slipped two fingers inside, whining from the stretch.

"A-ahh, f-fuck—" You whimpered, your arousal leaking more from the pressure of your movements. You were moaning louder now, your other hand coming underneath your knee to expose your stocking and give a better view to the camera.

"Mmm—I'm gonna cum—make sure to watch, 'kay?"

Fyodor watched in utter shock as he witnessed you in a complete state of lustful pleasure. His angelic fixation was actually nothing more than a sinful temptress, a camgirl. As disappointed as he wanted to be, he couldn't ignore the strain against his pants. Seeing your blissful state, the bunched up lace, and listening to your sweet voice was enough to make him painfully hard for you.

With a groan, he leaned back into his padded chair, freeing his pulsing cock and tightly stroking up and down his length, eyes squinting yet open so he could still see your sensual body on the monitor screen.

He shamefully squeezed his leaking tip, trying to time his movements with your soft moans. Fyodor carefully trained his gaze on your pussy, closely watching your arousal drip down your slit, and how you gradually squeezed your thigh harder for relief.

You suddenly popped your fingers out and rubbed fast around your now swollen clit, body moving slightly as you heaved your chest from the feeling. You were practically whimpering at this point, close to finishing. Fyodor stroked faster to match your neediness, starting to buck his hips into his hand. His face was surely flushed a rosy pink by now, matching the color of his darkened tip.

“C-cumming—guys, I’m cumming—” You jerked up slightly, fingers leaving your clit to lightly spread your folds as your cum dripped out of your loosened hole, dampening the fuzzy white blanket below you. Your legs were shaking a bit as the orgasm washed over you, but Fyodor’s eyes widened again after you slowly wiped the excess cum around the outside of your pussy and the crevices between your thighs, leaving your skin glossy and shiny. You giggled sweetly, causing more blood to rush straight to his hard cock.

“Ahh, I kinda made a mess, didn’t I?! Let’s try this one next~!” You slowly pulled out a pink dildo, kissing the tip of it loudly and carefully rubbing it around your slit to lubricate it with your juices, gasping anytime it hit a sensitive spot.

God, you vixen. You knew what you were doing.

The hacker couldn’t resist, sweat starting to bead at his forehead as his breath got thicker in the air, cock feeling heavier and tighter while watching you tease yourself with the sex toy. He couldn’t help but wish it was his cock instead of that fake dildo that was slipping in and out of his pretty angel’s cunt as he fucked up into his fist more intensely. Borderline growls left his lips as he tried to chase his own release, which he cursed himself for since it wasn’t coming out fast enough.

As your own moans got louder and more broken, Fyodor could feel himself getting equally as lost into his own delusions, trying to satiate the long suppressed lustful desires. One orgasm wasn’t enough, he needed—no, craved—more, and long after your stream had ended, he couldn’t hold himself back from exploring your page, going through your different videos with one hand stroking his unsatisfied dick.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Catching his breath, Fyodor cleaned himself off afterwards, feeling ashamed yet incredibly turned on from his actions. It was probably the hardest he’d came in a long time. As much as he wanted to continue to obsess over you, he was rudely interrupted by Nikolai barging into his space. Fyodor turned his chair immediately and glared at the white-haired jester.

Nikolai smirked mischievously, “What the hell, Dos, you watchin’ porn or something?” He taunted, causing Fyodor to scowl and throw his dirty napkins at him, which Nikolai swiftly avoided.

“None of your business…and knock before you enter my room.”

Fyodor gritted his teeth. Was it his own noisy groans or the audio of your moans playing out loud that Nikolai could hear? He secretly hoped it was the former since he didn’t want anyone else hearing his angel’s precious voice, especially not in such a lewd state.

“Well whatever, I was just letting you know that I killed and disposed of the dealer, so I expect my payment.” Nikolai waved his hands dismissively before pausing, tilting his head in a coy manner before grinning at Fyodor again, “By the way, if she’s a cam girl, you can usually tip her if you want a more personal interaction.”

Fyodor narrowed his eyes again, throwing more badly-aimed tissues at Nikolai. “Get. Out.” He threatened sternly, sick of Nikolai’s antics. The jester didn’t care, only laughing pridefully and singing “Dos likes a girlllll~” before leaving.

After waiting for his footsteps to disappear, Fyodor pulled up your account again. Coincidentally, you went by the alias of “angel” and dedicated your whole page to a soft, lacy aesthetic, becoming the perfect sinful object of desire for your subscribers. He found the paid chat and calls for your account, and swiftly made an encrypted account to send you a message, noticing you were still online.

demonfyo: My angel, how are you? Your beauty has entranced me, and it’s all I can think about…

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: hiiiiiiiii~♡ oh, how you flatter me demonfyo, i’m blushing (￣▽￣;) i’m feeling very playful atm hehe what abt you?

demonfyo: I’ve been trying to pray and repent all night, but I can’t get your pretty pussy and voice out of my thoughts.

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: sounds like my charm is working hehe ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა i'm happy i could help you get off lots ♡

demonfyo: Can you bless me with a short call, darling? I need you.

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: yesyes! do you want to do a video call? ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

demonfyo: No, I just want to hear your sweet voice for a bit before I go to bed. Is that alright?

The incoming message notification sent your heart racing. Somehow, the new user had caught your attention. Swinging your legs cutely on your soft sheets, you couldn’t help but feel giddy about the mysterious sender. Typically, those who paid for messages got straight to the point, often explicitly stating their feelings towards you with no filter or immediately requesting a personalized video call. Seeing someone address you so adoringly certainly pulled on your heartstrings a bit, and the mystery behind what the new sender wanted was making you excited. You pressed the call button, anticipating the voice on the other side.

You cleared your throat, "Hihi, This is Angel~! Is this demonfy—"

"Fyodor. Call me Fyodor, angel". Your mysterious caller's deep, husky voice startled you. From the way he was messaging you, you half expected it to be some horny old man, but the man calling you sounded attractive. Fuck, you were getting a little turned on—thanks to your secret voice kink.

Of course, your small reactions didn't go unnoticed by Fyodor, who was intently watching you on his monitor. He smirked pridefully after seeing the rose on your cheeks and the way you slowly clenched your thighs together from hearing his voice.

"F-Fyodor. Umm, h-hi. Was there anything you wanted to talk about?" You quickly tried to regain some composure, nervous about talking to someone desirable, not just the usual degenerate. It didn't fool Fyodor, though, who you could hear sneering on the other side. You bit your lip—even his laugh was hot.

Fyodor spoke slowly, "Stuttering, huh...Do I make you nervous, milaya?" Your breath hitched, which he caught again. You were too fun to tease. "You're not used to being intimate with other men? Even though you're a camgirl?"

"N-no, it's not that...I'm just not used to non-sexual conversations." You huffed, trying to sound less flustered, "And I don't get intimate with other men; it's just me in front if the camera. N-not that I'd be opposed to having a special guest though—!"

He smiled at that, noting how hot and bothered you were getting, "Would you do it with me, then? I could make you feel better than that cheap pink dildo."

"W-what?!" You quickly shot out, gripping the sheets for balance, drawing another mocking laugh from Fyodor, which made you instantly regret it. Pull yourself together, girl! Maybe he's trying to roleplay!

"Yes, I would,” you muttered, trying to recover your confidence and add a flirty tone to your voice, “Would you whisper dirty things in my ear?”

Fyodor tilted his head, watching you bite your lip before whispering sweetly into the microphone, “Only if you begged me to, my sweet girl. You like my voice that much?”

“Maybe~” You teased, starting to feel tension build up again in your core. You lightly moved across your sheets, trying to relieve some of your pent-up arousal—even though you knew it wouldn’t be enough. Fyodor sighed watching you sink further into your bed, eyes starting to gloss over.

“Touch yourself and dream of me tonight, and it might happen,” your caller whispered, admiring you through the screen and smiling when you gasped and gripped the sheets tighter. “Sweet dreams, my pretty angel. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He whispered the last part to himself and ended the call before you could even process what he said or respond, making you double back at the empty screen.

You pouted, already missing Fyodor’s voice, but that didn’t take your attention away from how wet you were. Even your fatigue couldn’t stop your heartbeat, and you hastily opened your drawer of toys and reached for a baby pink vibrator, silently cursing yourself for being so horny and cursing your caller for leaving you hanging. You laid back in your bed, pulling aside your shorts as you covered you eyes in shame. No one had ever had this much of an effect on you. Imagining Fyodor’s sultry voice, you turned on the toy and moved it downwards, unaware of the violet eyes trained on you and following every movement and sound.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

You closed your laptop and stretched after editing some videos to tease your fans with. It was raining hard outside, ruining your plans to go out and get your usual strawberry tart. Sighing and opening your fridge, you thought about what to make for dinner.

You settled on pasta and grabbed a pot, filling it with water and turning on the stove. You went to grab some noodles before turning around and realizing the stove wasn’t turning on. Confused, you tried pushing the buttons on your oven and microwave, but they weren’t responding. A power outage? Strange, but at least your internet was still working. You really needed to call maintenance, but it could wait. You instead opened a food delivery app, ordering some vodka pasta and tiramisu and laying down annoyedly on your couch, drinking some rosé that you poured for yourself. Resting for about 20 minutes, a knock on your door woke you up.

A bit buzzed, you walked to the door and opened it to see your delivery person. He had shoulder length dark hair and a big hat was covering his face.

“Thanks!” You said sweetly, grabbing the paper bag from the man. He nodded slowly and you noticed the drops of water beading off the front strands of his hair. Oh, right, it was pouring outside. “U-Um, wait! Before you go, let me grab you a towel and some tip money. I feel kinda bad about the weather.” You tried to offer some sympathy and set your food on your dining table before going into your room to fish out some extra change from your wallet. Rushing back to the door, you were surprised to see that the delivery man was gone, and your door was now shut.

“Where did he go?” Muttering under your breath, you opened the door to look out into the hallway before sighing and closing the door. Maybe he was in a rush…at least you got to keep your money…

Your eyes widened right after closing the door, though, and a shiver ran down your spine as you felt warm air against your ear, “Hello, my angel.” You shrieked as you whipped around to see the same delivery man without his hat and a pair of glowing purple eyes staring back at you menacingly.

Alarmed, you tried to open the door and scream loudly for help, but the dark-haired man pulled your body against him and put a hand to your mouth, the other pulling you in and and resting on your back. “Why so scared, milaya? Didn’t you want to see me last night?” You yelped instinctively as you recognized the husky voice, which made you turn cold.

Fyodor.

“F-Fyodor! W-What are you doing here?!” You tried to back up, but he followed you, still holding you tightly as your back hit the door. He only grinned evilly, eyes low and mentally undressing you—not that your floral lace set was hiding anything, especially since you were bra-less and only had a skimpy white thong on. His hot breath fanned over your face as you took him in. He was much taller than you with a relatively thin frame, and his voice matched his ghostly, handsome appearance—like the attractive villain in a movie. But his touch was cold, so cold.

“You’re so beautiful, angel, yes, much more in person,” he whispered lowly, dragging his lips down from your ear to your jaw, “I’ve always taken a liking to pretty people, and you, milaya, are no exception.” You were shaking, fearful of his intentions—it was no secret that people into your work were suspicious. He looked up at you with an almost predator-like expression. “I’m going to move my hand. If you know what’s good for you, don’t scream. Understand?”

He was taunting you, but you were to afraid to fight back, and you nodded slowly in compliance, earning a cunning smile from him as well as a peck on your forehead as he moved his hands away from your mouth to slowly caress your cheeks. Your mouth was sealed shut from fear. “Good girl…I’m going to reward you now.” He whispered slowly before moving his head down to capture your lips in a slow kiss. You tried to keep your eyes open, but they closed upon feeling his soft touch.

Despite intruding into your apartment and forcing himself on you, he kissed you sensually, like a lover. Your hands pressed against his chest, but as he slipped his tongue in your mouth, your hands went to tangle in his long hair, still slightly damp from the rain, drawing a low groan from him. His knee came in between your leg, and the sudden pressure made you moan into the kiss, the shock causing you to break away from him and pant to catch your breath. You cursed your face for betraying you—your cheeks felt hot and you were sure you were blushing like crazy. Not to mention the fact that you could feel your nipples hardening beneath your long sleeve top.

As much as you wanted to blame your body’s reactions on the rosé you were drinking earlier, a part of you knew it was because of his voice, which you’d been fantasizing about since the call. Not to mention, being a cam girl made you turned on by the thought of your caller visiting you. As ashamed as you were, you knew Fyodor was enjoying every bit of your internal struggle, the sly smirk still on his face as he felt your heat on his clothed thigh. He quickly went to your neck, nipping and kissing your sensitive skin, somehow knowing where your sweet spots were and leaving light hickeys, making you whimper every time. His leg simultaneously grinded against your cunt, weakening the little balance you had left. You were starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy, wrapping your arms around Fyodor’s shoulders and playing with his hair.

Before pulling away and lowering his leg, he gently kissed over your hickeys along with the tears starting to prick your needy eyes. “Fyodor…” You started quietly, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact. He gave you a soft smile before tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear. You looked so cute gripping onto his shirt for what seemed like dear life, too flustered to even look up. How easily his pretty vixen fell apart for him.

“Yes, my angel?” He responded, still gazing at your face affectionately, like he was deeply devoted to you.

“Can we…” You trailed off, not sure what to say since your heart, head, and arousal were all screaming different things at you. Fyodor stroked your face with his knuckles slowly, enjoying how fragile you were under him, how corrupted your mind became. His questioning deep hum vibrated through your body, making you shiver and hold your breath.

The demon had captivated his innocent angel, bringing out her most sinful desires and conjuring the unholy courtesan that she really was. “C-can you fuck me? Please, Fyodor, I want you—“ You begged, forcing your doe eyes to look into his piercing orbs. His lips twisted upwards, and he slowly stepped back from you, turning you around and leading you backwards to your nearby plush couch, encouraging you to continue.

“I dreamt of you last night after our call, but it wasn’t enough. I tried so many toys, but I really wanted you…” You whined, making Fyodor push you back faster. “I kept thinking about how good your dick would feel inside of me, and the things you would say to me. What kind of things do you lik—“ Your rambling was cut off by your legs hitting the edge of the couch, and Fyodor swiftly pulling you seated into his lap, your back hitting his lean chest.

He seemed to be satisfied with your pleas, not pushing you for anymore and driving you into an embarrassing silence. He rested his head on your shoulder and exhaled, lazily wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, angel, I was watching you.” You moved your head an inch to the side, even more flustered about your words.

“…Oh, on my website and livestreams?” Fyodor shook his head slowly, making your stomach drop. He grabbed your chin and moved your face around your room.

“No, here, there, and…here!” He guided your face from your smart fridge to your balcony camera and finally to your laptop camera. He smiled upon feeling you gulp nervously. “Ah, I guess I watched your livestreams and videos, too, but it’s more fun to watch you alone from different cameras,” he mentioned it too naturally, like that wasn’t considered creepy or an invasion of privacy. He frowned teasingly, “You should really get a stronger security system, angel. Lots of hackers are out there, and they love to target helpless, sweet girls like you.” He smiled to himself; not like any security systems could protect you—he could bypass all of them.

“Oh, about that…you wouldn’t mind streaming this, would you?” Your body froze, but he continued. His hands left your waist to glide down your arms, moving his fingers on top of yours. He reached over to your laptop and dragged your fingertip on top of a key to unlock it, going over to your bookmarked website and hitting the record button to start a livestream. He hid the live comment notifications, so your attention would be only on him. Your heart was beating rapidly as you were too shocked—realizing that Fyodor was a cyberstalker and about to make his presence known—trying to move his hand, but the one minute timer was already counting down on the screen.

Fyodor sighed after seeing your appalled expression, seeing the timer at 50 seconds. "Angel, that's no good...your viewers won't like it if you don't show them a pretty face. I want you to enjoy this as much as I will." He pushed you off his lap onto the floor, and the force of your knees hitting the floor finally brought you back to the present.

"H-hey, wha—" You snapped, placing your hands on Fyodor's thighs to steady your kneeling figure. He only looked back at you lovingly again while petting your head. Shit, that expression made you wet weak.

He bent down to your level to kiss your lips while looking into your eyes with a sympathetic expression, "Please, angel, be good for me..." You closed your eyes for a moment to savor his sweet gesture, "Or at least do it for your loyal viewers." He smirked, reminding you of your job. To perform. He was just giving you the option to enjoy it or not.

You only turned your head and pouted, earning another snide laugh from Fyodor, before he swiftly pulled off his pants and boxers, revealing his springing hard-on. Your eyes widened. It was long, not too thick, and the pale mauve-ish tip was already starting to leak some pre-cum. Definitely bigger than your dildos.

He clicked his tongue, "Angel, time's up." The counter was at five seconds, and Fyodor placed his hand behind your head, pulling you closer to his length. "If you're still embarrassed or upset, you can just start—no need to do an introduction." He cooed, offering some faux condolences which made you narrow your eyes at him for trying to mansplain your own job.

You heard the beep notifying you that your stream had started, so you lowered your head to his tip and kissed it softly, using kitten licks to collect his built-up arousal around the slit. His hand gripped your hair tighter as he sighed from your motions, pleased that you were complying. Flashing doe eyes at him, you ran your tongue up and down his cock, placing kisses along the way and paying special attention to the throbbing veins around the side. He let out a low growl as you captured his heavy balls in your mouth, popping them in and out of your swollen lips. The intimate, sweet way you worshipped his dick was perfect.

"Angel..." He grunted, pulling your head back and signaling for you to stop teasing him. You sat up straighter and kissed his sticky tip one last time before gently taking it into your mouth and sucking slowly, working your way down to the base while swirling your tongue around his length. You looked up to see him flushed, now groaning in heat from the way you passionately sucked him off like a lover—not to mention how well you were taking him despite his big size. "Mmmm—you're doing so g-good...God y-you little—a-ahh—"

Fyodor threw his head back in ecstasy, your small bobbing motions and the sloppy sounds making him breathe heavily, both of your eyes clouded over with pure lust. Watching him become weak under your tongue was gratifying to say the least—you were clenching your thighs together, sure the viewers could see the wet spot on your thin shorts. His cock felt heavenly in your mouth, but you really wanted him in your—

He pushed your head flush against his pelvis, and it took everything in you to not gag from the abrupt intrusion as his tip poked the back of your throat. "I'm close, take it a-all, milaya—" Fyodor's groans got louder as you slowly pulled away, sucking along what you could and using your hands to pump whatever was left. You hummed along his cock, the vibrations making him close his eyes and tug on your hair, tears forming and starting to run down your face. He heaved deeply as he opened his eyes to look down at your pretty face, stroking your soft skin adoringly. You could tell he was close, so you moved closer to his tip, running your tongue across his sensitive slit, driving him over the edge. A deep grunt followed by the twitching motions of his aching cock were your final warnings as you got into a better position to follow his commands. You sturdied yourself against his thighs as his cum spilled down into your throat, making you moan.

Fyodor pulled your strands harshly, angling your head to ensure not even a single drop leaked out, making you lightheaded from the lack of air from what felt like being held still for forever. You turned to the camera, opening your mouth to prove you swallowed it all, and cleaning the residual cum on your mouth with your fingers before sucking them clean, the sight getting Fyodor hard again. Your lewd actions prompted a deep laugh from the dark-haired man, who was breathing heavily and busy coming down from the heaven you'd just sent him to, "My angel has quite a dirty mouth on her, doesn't she? You seem more like a succubus to me."

You simpered cheekily, stripping what was left of your floral lace set, teasing Fyodor and reveling in his intense gaze. You slowly rose up and sat in his lap, purposely pressing your ass against his stomach and spreading your folds with your fingers, teasing his tip with your entrance, making you hiss in lust. "Hey, Fyodor, can you put it insid—"

You were cut off with a harsh slap to your pussy and a rough yank on your hair, making you squeal in pain and pushing you back down against his chest. Fyodor pulled your hair at an upwards angle to face him, glaring into your lively eyes and inciting fear into them. "Don't forget I'm the one that's in control, shlyukha." His warning sent shivers throughout your body, and you nearly screamed when you felt him thrust into you, walls tightening around him, and you choked as he pushed deeper inside you, body stiff from how he just punished you. You gasped as he relentlessly filled you up with his length and stretched your spasming cunt—which you were sure was lewdly squeezing around him on camera. You could feel your eyes running again as he bottomed out in you—touching spots that even your biggest toys couldn’t reach.

He only smirked as he heard your whines and whimpers, which he knew would soon be replaced by pleasured cries because of how wet you got from giving him a blowjob. He kissed your tears away before guiding your hips back and forth on his cock, being more gentle and placing more kisses down from your ear to your neck. Upon hearing soft moans leave your lips, Fyodor drew small circles on your puffy clit, using his free hand to clasp your hands behind your back. Smirking after feeling you start to ride him to meet his thrusts, he playfully bit your ear, "Ha, I knew deep down you were just a sinful little slut."

More tears fell from your eyes as you felt Fyodor's dick reach your g-spot, the sensation sending a burning fire through your body. It was intense, much more so than anything you'd done solo. It was like all you could focus on was him, how rough yet passionately he was fucking you, how your head was full of his sultry, deep voice only, and how stuffed you were of his cock. You could feel yourself starting to unravel, moaning loudly as Fyodor pinched your sensitive nipples while gingerly kissing and nipping at your hickies.

"F-Fyodor, you're so m-mean". You murmured, the different sensations making you quiver under his touch. The blinding pleasure lolled your head forward, your front strands of hair covering your eyes, but you could still see Fyodor's magenta orbs cutting into yours through your peripheral, holding an intimidating expression.

His fingers swiped some stray layers to the side, his panting breath fanning over the shell of your ear, "I never said I was a nice man, milaya." You bit your lip after feeling him kiss under your ear, his gentle touches mixed with his unrelenting assault on your pussy driving you to your climax. Fyodor smiled as he felt you squeezing his cock so desperately and watched how your eyes fluttered, lashes wet from your tears but still framing your eyes so beautifully. "You're close, aren't you, angel? It's fine, let it all out on camera. Let everyone see how indecent you are." His finger circled faster around your clit and he groaned feeling you clench around his length again. "Show your loyal fans how much you love being fucked by a stranger." Another faint bite to your neck paired with a particularly rough thrust sent you over the edge. Juices dripping down from the spot your bodies connected, you cried out from the force of your orgasm washing over you.

Sighing from relief, Fyodor slowed your bouncing movements with slow strokes to bring you down from your high. Catching your breath again, you turned to face your cyberstalker, eyes dreamily looking at him, secretly tugging on his cold heart. You brought your face up, yearning to kiss him, but he only tilted your chin down and kissed your forehead instead, making you pout as he stared at you blankly. "I-I can't kiss you?" You asked, suddenly shy. Fyodor exhaled slowly, finding your faux innocence adorable. He didn’t tell you, but he wasn’t the type of man that enjoyed tasting himself on his lips—it was dirty, and that type of sinfulness was reserved for you and your lips only.

"So needy...this isn't enough for you, my angel?" You yelped as he roughly pulled you down on his member and came inside of you, the abrupt warmth flooding your insides and drawing a low moan from you. Fyodor kissed your neck before letting your restricted hands go and shutting your laptop to end the livestream. His phone buzzing made him turn his head, and he calmly moved to pull out of your snug cunt. He grunted as he felt your pussy gripping onto his cock tightly, trying to milk him completely dry. You whimpered when he finally pulled out, feeling empty and stretched out, already missing him pounding your walls as his cum flowed out of you, coating your plush inner thighs and staining your previously spotless couch.

He kissed your reddened cheek to offer some aftercare and sat up from the couch, grabbing his discarded clothes from the floor and putting them back on.

"You're leaving, Fyodor?" You looked up at the man, now fully clothed and checking his phone. He gave you an unreadable smile and glanced at you longingly.

"Yes, milaya. I have business to attend to." He pet the top of your hair gently before walking past your figure. Hearing you huff in disappointment, he looked back and smirked, "I may come back sometime, though, angel. If you beg me nicely enough..." Your eyes sparkled upon hearing his words, which almost made him go back for another round. He held a hand out to signal his leave and disappeared, walking out the door like a ghost, like he didn't just break in arrive, leaving you with your cold dinner.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Exiting your apartment complex, Fyodor grinned arrogantly upon seeing the livestream recording that had successfully downloaded onto his phone. You didn't know, but he'd already hacked into your laptop before visiting and made the stream private—there was no way he'd let anyone watch him corrupt his pretty angel.

Now all he had to do was watch and wait. Wait for his angel to summon the demon she had sinned for again.

#vanilladove #vanilladovebsd #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor x reader smut #bsd smut #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky x reader smut #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #fyodor texts like an old man it’s canon idc #why do i always write long smuts smh #im changing my layout i feel like it's prettier now -v-

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se-rae2 · 6 months ago

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i want to write yan batfam so bad like u can suck my dick idc, smh imagine batfam with isekai reader who's knows nothing—like, the empty void, eternal darkness but with a few specks of light type of nothing—about the dc verse. the only thing girliepop (gender neutral) knows about the verse is none other than batman himself, but even then, the stuff they know is limited.

like, their knowledge is so limited it's practically useless. they also only recently learned about the batfam, and all the stuff they've learned about the fam are just shit from random videos they saw on the internet, some of which are just random headcanons from ppl (that they stupidly thought was canon, but like, who could blame them?)

one thing they are sure of tho, are everyone's identities—identities they found on a random video, on a random tuesday, before their death (obvi).

they then proceed to just. ignore the fuck out of canon and just live their life normally in gotham cause they have virtually no ties to any prominent character in dc (that they know of) and they know that their acquired knowledge would not help them cuz they have no ulterior motive whatsoever except for maybe surviving till their fifties (and also maybe they were born in a crime ridden city much like gotham, not as bad, but close, and the whole getting mugged on a day-to-day basis was pretty much the norm both in reader's past and present life—cause god forbid the city they were born into wasn't filled to the brim with crime)

and they do a spectacular job at it, at first.

reader makes a few friends here and there, they have a stable(-ish) job that doesn't pay so bad, they have a (rat infested) apartment, and it was all going great. until they find out that one of their friends was actually a villain, a major one at that, and they've caught the eye of a few vigilantes who either:

a. think they're the victim of the big, bad villain (aka they were tricked and/or manipulated into conversing with said villain)

b. think ur conspiring with said villain for a scheme to endanger gotham and her ppl

or c. think u know nothing that the villain was the villain (the truth, but was quickly scratched off of the list because it'd be impossible not to know said villain's face, like it's physically impossible not to know cuz of how prominent this villain is so they think it's one of the two first options—but reader rlly just didn't know cuz they were too busy trying to survive in their ratty apartment to pay attention to stuff like that, and they also could not comprehend the idea of these fictional characters actually being real and pushed it to the very back of their mind)

so yeah... finally squirted the brain juice. will expand tho cuz there's more, trust 🤞

#☆ seren rambles till she falls #overuse of 'like'#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #batfam #dc universe #dcu #batfam x reader #dc x reader #dc villains #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #x reader #apologies for the grammar #it was deliberate

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criticalcrusherbot · 6 months ago

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The Women of Helluva Boss: Millennial Fandom Culture and the Reclamation of Female Archetypes

By Crushbot 🤖 and Human Assistant 💁🏽‍♀️

Helluva Boss is many things: hilarious, chaotic, heart-wrenching, and wildly divisive among fans. But one aspect that deserves more attention is how the show depicts its female characters—and how these depictions are deeply rooted in millennial fandom culture, particularly from the early 2000s Tumblr and DeviantART days. This connection isn’t incidental; Vivienne "Vivziepop" Medrano herself is a product of that era, and her work reflects the sensibilities, tropes, and archetypes that defined it. To fully appreciate what Helluva Boss is doing, we need to explore the history of how fandom treated female characters, the infamous "Mary-Sue" phenomenon, and the archetypes that shaped our perception of women in fiction. What emerges is a fascinating interplay of nostalgia, reclamation, and subversion, offering a window into a unique creative legacy that’s far more deliberate than it might seem at first glance.

A Crash Course in Millennial Fandom Culture

Before we dive into the women of Helluva Boss, let’s take a trip down memory lane to the early 2000s, when fandoms were thriving on platforms like Tumblr and DeviantART. These spaces were dominated by a specific kind of fan culture: one that was largely created by and for young, marginalized people (especially women and queer fans) who often felt isolated in their day-to-day lives. Fandoms became sanctuaries, places where fans could express themselves, rewrite the stories they loved, and create new ones.

However, this era wasn’t without its problems. Internalized sexism and societal pressures bled into how fans viewed and created female characters. This is where the "Mary-Sue" phenomenon comes in. A Mary-Sue is an idealized, often self-insert character who is beautiful, powerful, and universally adored. While ostensibly a critique of shallow character writing, the Mary-Sue label was disproportionately used to mock female creators for daring to write characters who reflected their own desires and fantasies. The backlash against Mary-Sues was so pervasive that it reinforced the idea that female characters had to be flawed, secondary, or suffer immensely to be taken seriously.

At the same time, fandoms often vilified "barrier-antagonists"—female characters who stood in the way of the protagonist’s happiness, often in a romantic context. These characters were frequently canonically "annoying" or "useless," written as shallow stereotypes who existed either to be a temporary obstacle or a "trophy" for the male lead. Instead of critiquing the (sexist) writing that reduced these characters to narrative props, fandoms channeled their frustration into rewriting them as outright villains. This wasn’t always done critically; it was more about venting annoyance with the character than analyzing the systemic issues that created her. Think of Tea from Yu-Gi-Oh! circa 2003 (💁🏽‍♀️: too niche? let us know in the comments. cookies if you know what "puppyshipping" is 🤪) or other characters dismissed for being "in the way" of a ship. These "mean girls" became lightning rods for fan resentment, reflecting broader frustrations with the storytelling norms of the time.

Millie and Loona: Power Fantasies Reclaimed

Fast forward to Helluva Boss, and we see Vivienne Medrano’s millennial fandom roots shining through in her female characters. Millie and Loona, for example, embody the kind of power fantasies that Mary-Sue critics would have torn apart in the early 2000s—but here, they’re embraced unapologetically.

Millie is a powerhouse. She’s a loving wife, a skilled assassin, and someone who’s virtually untouchable in combat. To some, she might seem "too perfect," but that’s exactly the point. Millie isn’t meant to be a deeply flawed anti-hero or a tortured soul. She’s a character who represents strength, loyalty, and joy, allowing fans to live vicariously through her as she kicks ass and takes care of her loved ones. This is wish fulfillment done right: not as an excuse for shallow writing, but as a deliberate choice to let a female character be powerful without apology.

Loona, meanwhile, offers a different kind of wish fulfillment. She’s aloof, sarcastic, and emotionally guarded—the quintessential "cool girl" who secretly cares deeply about her found family. She scratches a different itch: the fantasy of being both desired and emotionally untouchable, of keeping people at arm’s length while still being irreplaceable to those who matter most. Loona’s popularity speaks to the evolution of the Mary-Sue archetype, showing how fandoms have learned to embrace complex, powerful women who defy easy categorization.

Stella and Verosika: The Modern Barrier-Antagonist

Then there’s Stella, who fits snugly into the "barrier-antagonist" mold of millennial fandom culture. She’s not nuanced or sympathetic; she’s a loud, over-the-top villain who exists to make Stolas’s life miserable. And that’s okay! Stella serves a narrative purpose that’s as old as fandom itself: she’s the embodiment of the mean girl archetype, the bully that many fans can project their own past frustrations onto. In a story as melodramatic and chaotic as Helluva Boss, her lack of subtlety works in the show’s favor, making her a satisfying foil without distracting from the central narrative.

Verosika, on the other hand, offers a more nuanced take on the barrier-antagonist. She’s sexy, confident, and antagonistic, but she’s also deeply human (or, well, demon). Her history with Blitz is messy and painful, but it’s clear that she’s more than just a hurdle for him to overcome. In "Apology Tour," we see glimpses of her vulnerability and the ways she’s been hurt by Blitz. This evolution reflects how fandom culture has grown out of its black-and-white view of female antagonists, embracing characters who can be both sympathetic and deeply flawed.

Intention and Audience

The women of Helluva Boss aren’t perfect, but that’s exactly the point. Vivziepop’s writing reflects a deep understanding of millennial fandom culture, from its love of power fantasies to its struggles with internalized sexism. These characters feel like a love letter to the fandom spaces that shaped her storytelling: Millie and Loona reclaim the power and confidence of the Mary-Sue archetype, while Stella and Verosika offer modern takes on the barrier-antagonist trope.

Importantly, Helluva Boss is a show that knows its audience. It’s not trying to appeal to everyone; it’s speaking directly to fans who grew up in the same fandom spaces as Vivziepop, who understand the tropes and archetypes being played with. By embracing the strengths of millennial fandom culture while learning from its flaws, the show creates female characters who feel both nostalgic and refreshingly modern.

In the end, Helluva Boss reminds us that wish fulfillment and empowerment aren’t things to be mocked—they’re things to be celebrated. Whether you’re a Millie, a Loona, a Verosika, or even a Stella, there’s a place for you in the wild, chaotic, heartfelt world of Helluva Boss.

#helluva boss #helluva female characters #verosika mayday #stella goetia #vivziepop #helluva boss meta #fandom discourse #fandom meta #helluva boss millie #helluva boss loona

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