#and i should be able to let that be my only contribution to the discussion without you trying to tell me I'm Wrong
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
absolutely reeling at the tswft saga today like I promise you don't have to defend her this much I understand but we're not gonna agree on it
#the never-exhausting lists of her lyrics being analyzed by ivy league specialists and how she writes for the human experience and#how if u dont like her its just misogyny and ignorance because just saying you dont like her style is saying you dont like any style#since she writes in every genre#and saying u dont like her is a statement#like its not that deep its going to be okay#i had to apologize because at one point i said 'i m eee a n 🤔'#and she got so upset#like girl its okay that its the one thing keeping you alive its okay that it's yours#i just need you to understand that its Not Mine!!#and its OKAY#we are livin on two different planets im not gonna make fun of you for your music taste? its preference! its taste!#i don't like her voice. what I've heard of her music is not anything i want to listen to#and i should be able to let that be my only contribution to the discussion without you trying to tell me I'm Wrong#please#she is a celebrity and i guarantee she does not care about you or how much you defend her
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
so so sick of being yelled at for being depressed
#my sister offered to let me move in with her and her spouse and my mom insisted i stay here til the end of the year#because shes worried about my mental health#but she keeps freaking out whenever i have Symptoms#like yeah i dont have any energy so sometimes it takes an extra day or two to get chores done#ive made it clear that im trying my best but it never meets her standards so it doesnt matter#and she wont even fucking let me leave#i told her months ago i wouldnt be able to contribute to groceries much longer because i havent worked in six months and have no money#and she was super understanding at the time but as soon as i make any food requests when someone goes shopping she gets pissed at me#says im asking for too much when im keeping it to the bare minimum#and when my sister heard about this she offered to send me some grocery money and my mom got pissed about that too#i woke up to a huge paragraph of text lecturing me and she called it a 'roommate intervention' like she hasnt been very clear that#she doesnt consider us roommates#and she refuses to actually talk about it she just sends me messages freaking out about how im not good enough#and then she says if i respond shell freak out so shes refusing to have an actual discussion#like if shes so fucking sick of me being here she should just let me move jfc#i havent been able to eat at the table for years because its covered in a bunch of her shit but if i ask her to do something about that#shed just freak out#like how dare my living here inconvenience her in any way but also what i want doesnt matter at all#i dont have any of my stuff in the living room or dining room and i only have some stuff for coffee in the kitchen#and even then she moves that shit without checking with me beforehand#im doing everything i can to reduce my impact here and its still not fucking good enough#god im just so sick of living here#brb gotta go do a million chores while i have a migraine because otherwise there will be 'consequences'#like im a fucking child#and not a full grown adult whos dealing with serious mental health shit but still trying their best#god i want to cry rn im just so sick of this
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
A word to some LOA blogs. You will know this is directed towards you when you read this.
The amount of times I have heard of a blog being rude and disrespectful to their followers is starting to become concerning and this is why I'm writing this currently, because it looks like a lot of you are letting your platform overinflate your egos and you do not know how to act as a result.
Not everyone needs to run a LOA blog.
I have reiterated time and time again regarding the fact that a lot of people join the community without knowing the first thing about the law of assumption which evokes confusion in so many people as a result. That is only one part of my issue with just anyone creating an account and starting to post literal gibberish (but that's a discussion for another day).
The other is the lack of basic empathy displayed by some blogs on here. I understand that the spectrum of questions in our inbox can range from very insightful epiphanies our anons have to hate to confusing questions to straight up irritating nonsensical ones, but that doesn't entitle you to be a piece of shit to your followers whether it's to their face or to your loa friend group regarding them asking you a genuine question they confided in you with.
As a blog, if you do not want to help someone, your options are the following:
Not respond.
Tell them you are unfit and redirect them elsewhere.
Running a law of assumption blog, much like indulging in any other task or hobby in which you have to help people, requires you to have three very important traits and those are:
Patience
Empathy
MORE patience
A lot of you guys are simply not built to be running a platform that is specifically intended to help people. If you're gonna be constantly belittling them, invalidating their honest questions then why are you here? There are principles of the law that we learn and talk about and you need to familiarize yourself with them before you run to point and laugh at someone who's asking for your help. You do not get to make fun of people's questions just because your understanding of the law of assumption is deeply flawed and cherry picked.
You are always welcome to be a lurker in the community and read what other blogs say, but if you have nothing to contribute except shitty responses and unwarranted mocking maybe you should reevaluate your decision to run a law of assumption blog.
To my followers, I am sorry if you've ever dealt with a rude blogger before. You do not deserve to be treated with disrespect LOA or not. This is supposed to be a community where everyone is welcome to learn about the law and discuss it accordingly. I hope you guys are able to find a blog that resonates with you and can answer your questions in a kind and digestible way, but please do not humor some of these awful people.
This is alI have to say about the matter for the time being. If you felt like I was talking about you I most likely was. Apologize to your followers for being an asshole, deactivate your blog or leave the community altogether. Any of these options work.
467 notes
·
View notes
Text
TROP SEASON FINALE SPOILERS!!!!!
Elrond, my baby, my little guy, my poor soul.
DWARF RANT:
King Durin, may you rest in the Halls of Aule with honor.
I've seen a common theme in this series: people who had lost their minds, but found them in the last moment of shocking clarity that was (almost) their last noble act.
Celebrimbor, cutting off his thumb to escape (Which was very "I'm honoring my Uncle Maedhros" core, which I very much appreciate) and saying, "Whose will is the mightier?"
I can go on another rant about that phrase and the implications, but that was last episode.
King Durin III awoke the balrog, literally Durin's Bane.
Prince Durin and Disa's kiss was iconic, fyi.
Prince Durin tried so hard to help his father, but in the end, he couldn't stop him. Well, he alone couldn't stop his father; what truly set King Durin over the edge was the knowledge that his son might die. King Durin saw the balrog, something that he had willingly called forth, and went, "Holy shit, get the boy OUT". And how did King Durin get his boy out of the balrog's fire? He sacrificed himself.
Throughout this entire season, I have seen nothing but poor parenting from King Durin; he never listened to his son's advice; he literally shoved him away, and into a wall (My first thought was, "CHILD ABUSE!!! CHILD ABUSE!!!! GO GET DWARF DFCS!!!"). But here, we see the true affection King Durin had for his son.
The cataclysm that brought King Durin clarity was not anything his son could have done by himself, but the knowledge that his son was helpless. King Durin was not going to let his son suffer something of his own making, so he charged the balrog.
And then died.
HUMAN RANT:
Okay, so Kemen (I finally learned his name, unfortunately) needs to get off of his swampy ass and tumble into a grave. It'd be so simple; Isildur just needs to *grab by lapels* *shift three spaces to the right* *drop in hole*. Simple! Easy solution! Would the Valar be very happy? Probably not, but hey! We'd get rid of Kemen!
And I do appreciate Earien's technically treasonous act for her father; by now, she is a pretty prominent figure in Numenorean politics; the right hand of the king's right hand.
And you know what confused me?
The way Pharazon---I'm not calling him Ar-Pharazon, he doesn't deserve that---gathered up all of the RELIGIOUS LEADERS of the Faithful and said, "Yeah, sorry you're conspiring with Sauron, aka the DEVIL so you and all of the Faithful are to be arrested. Sorry."
One of the main things that always strikes a cord for me is religious freedom; when these wrongs are shown in this show, it makes me SO angry, because people should be able to practice their faith freely, regardless of whatever religion the government favors.
The sacking of Nienna's temple, the prosecution of the Faithful in earlier episodes, and now the legit imprisoning of people who are Faithful.
Recently, I have been reading "The Crucible" in class, and we have been discussing the causes and effects of mass hysteria, one of the contributing factors of the Salem Witch Hunts. I feel like there might be bought of mass hysteria going around Numenor now; the king/queen-ship is a major dispute, the Faithful are being arrested, major political and social leaders of the community have been imprisoned. People can likely accuse others of being Faithful (Even if they aren't) because of petty rivalries. In the Crucible, Mr. Putnam accused George Jacobs, his neighbor who had lots of land, of witchcraft, so that he would be able to purchase his land.
How many people in Numenor would face a similar dilemma?
Would Mr. Smith the Sailor accuse Mrs. Johnson the Tailor of being an Elf-Friend because her tapestries looked a little too much like those of Vaire? But it doesn't matter that Mrs. Johnson's only daughter is of marriageable age and Mr. Smith has had his eye on her. But who would be watching that if Mrs. Johnson was an Elf-Friend?
All of these factors are the most basic ingredient for a good ol' bought of mass hysteria; my English teacher doesn't watch this show, but I'm tempted to tell her the similarities.
then, to Isildur.
I thought Theo and Isildur's hug was very nice.
Theo was like, "Ah, yes, I shall bid my friend farewell after discussing the traumatic deaths of our mothers. I wish him well!"
And Isildur's like, "Why is the kid who hated me yesterday wanting a hug???"
I always got bad vibes from Estrid. I get swearing servitude to Adar in exchange for your life, I get that, but.
I never felt comfortable with her and Isildur's relationship. I get that she wasn't able to decipher her feelings for Hagen, her betrothed, until she met Isildur, but seriously. I also know that Isildur has an "unnamed wife" (SCREW THE NOT NAMING OF FEMALE CHARACTERS IT MAKES ME ANGRY), so I know he's gonna get somebody EVENTUALLY, and before Numenor sinks.
But then, Isildur and Estrid started MAKING OUT in Theo's kitchen. Like, bro. THAT'S NOT YOUR HOUSE!!!! Do that ELSEWHERE!!!!! Better yet, don't even do it!
And then, that slimy bitch Kemen had to stroll up, all, "Yeah, we'll put the watchtower there, knock down a few houses to do it." And then, he tries to be all buddy-buddy with Isildur, who obviously realizes that something is a bit off.
Then, Kemen drops the ball, saying that his father is wanted for treason, Queen Miriel is no longer queen, and "low men" are not allowed in Numenor.
First off: very classist of you, go kill yourself, Kemen.
Second off: Isildur learns that the woman he saved from the fire is no longer queen; is he thinking that his sacrifice, everything that he's endured in Middle Earth, has been for naught?
Third off: Kemen mentioned Earien. Does Isildur know that his sister has gotten a little racist in his absence? How will he react to seeing his sister betray their entire family by literally trying to put them all in prison (Anarion, Elendil, AND Isildur)?
Kinda happy that Estrid wasn't going to Numenor. Don't like the circumstances, but I'm glad that she isn't going.
I also think that Earien is coming to her senses; she might not have wanted Miriel on the throne, but now, Pharazon's tyranny is affecting HER. HER family is being prosecuted. HER father is wanted for "treason". HER people are at risk. Earien is getting a rude awakening to this thing.
I also think that its interesting how that guard left when Earien told him to; it shows how people in power are STILL defying the law in Numenor, all because, "Oh, she knows the king's son."
Of course, Earien did this for a good reason, but it still demonstrates the corruption of Numenor's political system.
Then, Miriel and Elendil. As I was watching this my mom, I was like, "Hey, do you ship it?" and she was like, "Oh, yeah" and I was like, "Good, my assumptions are not unfounded."
So yeah, Anarion, Isildur, and Earien are going to be getting a step-mom, good for them!!
What messed me up was when Miriel was like, "No Elendil, you must go, I will stay." Like Elendil (And us) were under the impression that she would remain with the Faithful; Elendil draped the cloak over her shoulders and she didn't flinch, she listened to his plan, but when the time came to make the decision she stayed. Frankly, I don't understand WHY, but go off girlie, I guess.
ELVES:
Okay, so Galadriel getting the refugees out of Eregion, I really liked; in cannon, Galadriel and many of Eregion's fled Eregion and headed south. Then, Galadriel gave up the Nine to save the refugees (Iconic, Queen Behavior), and we see Adar, leaning against a fallen tree. Is he injured? Is he hiding? Has his hand been conveniently cut off by some guy on an eagle? What happened?
After dismissing the orcs, Adar turns around. At first, I didn't see any difference (I'm not very observant, sometimes, alright?), until I looked a little closer. His face was no longer scared and burned; his hair seemed thicker, cleaner; he looked less gaunt. The ring had healed him.
And then, Galadriel asked for his name, but he evaded the question, like a little BITCH.
"Adar was the name I chose for myself" blah, blah, blah, bah, JUST SAY MAKALAURE YOU IDIOT!!! Sure, there are some details in cannon that don't line up (Maglor wasn't strung up on Thangorodrim, Maedhros was) but here's the thing: not only has trop changed a few things, it made some things more accessible.
In trop, Elrond and Elros were found by Galadriel after the Third Kinslaying, not the sons of Feanor. Celebrimbor was supposed to be tortured for TWO YEARS before his death. Celeborn is still supposed to be present.
I also have a cannon-probable idea for Maglor being Adar; in Maglor's trauma and grief at loosing his last and first brother, could he have not clung to his brother, in all aspects? Maglor may have curated this story of hanging from a cliff because that's what happened to his brother, that idea is what keeps him close. The things about being with the orcs and Sauron, I can't really explain for this idea. That's just about as far as I got.
But Adar WILLINGLY returned the ring to Galadriel, proving that he truly meant to defeat Sauron with elven help. But then, there is an injured Uruk nearby, and Adar goes to help; he might not even be able to heal him, but he will be with that Uruk in his last moments.
And then.
The Uruk, Glug, I think? leapt up and stabbed him. All of the others followed suit. It was a mirror to Sauron's own death in the first episode: betrayed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed---
You get the gist.
By the end, Adar is well and truly gone. He raises his hand to touch one of the orcs, his children, and calls them such, but the orc stabs him again, one, final time.
The entire situation is disheartening; sure Adar might have been willing to risk his "children" in his hunt for revenge against Sauron, but he cared about them, well and truly. In exchange, the orcs killed him for his kindness.
In the end, I really do want to know who Adar was before his chaining to a mountain. Did he have a family? People he loved? He must have come from Cuivienen, so he probably did.
I also wonder where he would go after death. Now that his hroa (Physical body) is well and truly... extinguished, where will his fea (Spirit) go? Do orcish fear (Spirit, plural) go to the Halls of Mandos, or somewhere else?
Adar looked vaguely elven; he could walk in sunlight, unlike his children. I feel like he should go to the Halls of Mandos; he did many terrible things, but were they not in the pursuit of good?
Then, Celebrimbor's death (These are not in the order of the scenes, just what I remember).
We see streaks of blood on stone floor, and we know something has happened.
Then, there's Celebrimbor, BEING USED AS TARGET PRACTICE, with arrows in his arms. Sauron stand over him, grim, and he wants to know where the rings are. They bicker and banter, there's some (un)healthy badinage, and Sauron STILL says that Celebrimbor's pain is HIS fault, that Celebrimbor brought this upon himself. Even though Celebrimbor is well and truly destroyed, Sauron STILL wants to have Celebrimbor guilt-ridden and full of self-loathing. It sickens me.
And then, Celebrimbor has something to say. He says, "forsee", and Sauron stops. I doubt Celebrimbor has had many visions of foresight, but the line of Finwe is not without them; did Miriel not have a vision of foresight to name her son Feanaro? Was Galadriel not gifted in seeing versions of the future? So it is possible, especially since Celebrimbor is SPOT ON. It WILL be one ring that brings about Sauron's downfall, and Sauron will fall. Sauron realizes this, and runs him through with a spear. Celebrimbor is lifted onto the pillar (Which is what I think we're going to get as the Celebrimbanner, unfortunately; I would have loved to see his cannonical death) and finally dies.
Then, Galadriel and Sauron's duel. Sauron turns into different people to try and fool Galadriel, but by now, she is used to trickery. He turns into puppy-dog-eyed Halbrand (Annatar was literally just Halbrand in a heat-damaged wig and shaved, Celebrimbor should have seen that IMMEDIATELY). Then, he's Galadriel herself, depicting her darkest, most evil deeds and desires. Then, Celebrimbor, mocking her for her retreat. Franky, I thought he was going to be Finrod as well, but alas, it was not so.
And then, he stabbed her with the crown (rude) and Galadriel, salty to the last, PRETENDED to give Sauron the ring. Very slowly, just to watch the pride and greed flash in his eyes, and then, "If I can't have it, then neither can you." Not what she said, but what she MEANT.
And girlie does and Elwing. Too many people in season two have dove off of cliffs; Elrond failed to beat the mama's boy allegations by jumping off a cliff with an object of power (In this case, three). And I was wondering if these guys actually thought that Ulmo was gonna come in clutch and turn them into birds. I mean, he did it for Elwing, so why not her son? Why not some other random person jumping off of a cliff?
In the end, Gil-Galad approaches (I'll get to that part in the beginning with Gilly and Elrond, hold on) and knows that Galadriel cannot be healed. She has the Second Age equivalent of a Morgul wound. It festers with dark magic and cannot be healed.
But who do they have?
THE healer!
The top dog of his graduation class from Lindon's School of Magical and Physical Healing!! Elrond Peredhel Earendilion whatever other name you give him! He's THE healer! Just standing there!
So of course, Mr. Healer is all dramatic, like, "No, we can heal her" through the power of friendship of course, and perhaps these magical rings.
I do think it's interesting how the rings will heal scarring and a Morgul wound; I think they only heal physical wounds, not those done to the spirit (Fea).
And then, we appear in a grassy, bright area, with Gil-Galad watching over Galadriel. He says that it is safe, a sanctuary made by the rings. This is, of course, the beginnings of Imladris, Rivendell, the Last Homely House. In cannon, Elrond and refugees of Eregion fled north, and founded Rivendell.
The river down the center HAS to be the Anduin, I guarantee it.
When the offer of the sword or shield pops up, I though that Galadriel would choose the shield; after all, this series is basically about how Galadriel went from a brutish, hyper-angry, traumatized elleth to a proud, wise, kind Lady of Lothlorien. I thought she would choose the shield, protect what her people had lost so much of, but she remains silent. Gil-Galad chooses the sword.
That scene of the elves raising their fists in defiance felt odd to me; even the children were seen raising their hands. Elves reach their majority at approx. 100 years, so what are these children, who have never seen battle and bloodshed except for that day, doing, wanting to wage war? It reminds me of Feanor and the unrest of the Noldor; a people that knew no bloodshed, and in their innocence, went to their deaths. It worries me.
Alright, one of my favorite parts: Elrond and the Scrolls.
Elrond, Gil-Galad, and Arondir are brough to a city square and we see orcs piling scrolls to be burned. Elrond, who is obviously a scholar, I mean look at him, is outraged. Not only are these the last ties he has to his cousin Celebrimbor, they also hold invaluable scientific information; it's like destroying the elven version of the Library of Alexandria.
Then, my baby boy Gil-Galad is at sword-point (Very scary, but I know what his doom is so I wasn't THAT scared), and just barely saved. Ngl, I had thought Arondir had died in Episode 7, so it was good to see him still kicking!
My favorite parts were Celebrimbor and Annatar's scenes and Elrond's dismay at the scrolls. I would also like to say that I think Gil-Galad slayed in every scene he was in.
Well, then. I must go google when Season Three is expected to show up.
#silmarillion#galadriel#celebrimbor#elrond#the rings of power#trop#trop season 2#rop season 2#i love celebrimbor#gil galad#adar rings of power#adar#rant post
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓
𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Professor!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 3268
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + dark academia + “I can see how badly you want this, so I'm going to make sure you get it.”
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ I’ve loved this man literally since I was thirteen…so it’s inevitable that I’d be writing something absolutely fucking filthy for him in my twenties…
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), gaps in age and power, mutual masturbation, little bit of panty sniffing, a singular use of Y/N (I'm sorry, I hate it too but it was necessary), usage of pet names (sweetheart), general manipulation, slight praise kink, obvious disclaimer: the dynamic in this fic is just that, fictional, and should not be practiced in real life!! let me know if any other warnings are needed!!
(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)
You’d rarely had luck receiving any sort of grace from your professors. Sure, there were a select few that only wanted to see you succeed. However, more often than not you seemed to encounter sadists who decided to take their kinks out on exhausted college students. But you were convinced that Professor Winchester wouldn’t be like that.
For starters, he’d always been challenging but never malicious. Despite the fact that you’d registered for his Norse Mythology course with the assumption that it would be easy college credits, you quickly learned that his assignments were difficult. Every week there seemed to be about a hundred pages worth of reading, frequent essays, and an emphasis on class discussion.
Oh, did he love those class discussions. While most were less than enthusiastic to contribute to lengthy examinations of Eddic poetry at eight in the morning, Professor Winchester seemed to be none the wiser of this.
He was always squinting over his thin wire framed glasses, surveying the class. He’d stand at his desk, brushing his long hair behind his ear while looking over papers. When he’d listen he’d purse his lips and tilt his head, expression rife with genuine interest. In all of these moments, he was the most gorgeous. But more than that, you were fascinated with his mind.
Professor Winchester knew this material like the back of his hand; was able to pull references and quotes from various pieces of literature at the drop of a hat. He was the only professor who could ever give notes that were actually helpful on essays and he’d always been generous with handing out extra credit assignments. Which is what you aimed to obtain on this visit to his office.
You looked through the glass of his office door and saw him inside, working diligently at a dark oak wood desk. Taking a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and entered.
The hinges squeezed but Winchester seemed so fixated on whatever was before him that he only raised a finger, indicating for you to wait. So you did. Awkwardly. You rocked slightly on your heels, your stomach starting to twist in time with the movement. God, he looked like a dream lit by the stained glass banker's lamp as he graded papers.
In another world you could see him coming home from a long day, his body warm behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Smelling like black coffee and pencil shavings, you'd adoringly close your eyes, taking in his scent and ask him how his day went. He'd hum in contentment when resting his chin on your head; you're his rock, his soulmate, the reason he stays sane despite dealing with probably hundreds of students and the frustrating dance of academic bureaucracy.
It's a fantasy that broke the second Winchester glanced up and said with a hint of surprise, "Miss L/N! Come in, have a seat," he nodded towards the chair on the other side of his desk.
Relieved that he can pick you out among the sea of students from his classroom, you move forward until you reach the chair. You set your bag down on the floor and settle into the worn leather of the seat as Winchester eyes you expectantly.
"What can I do for you this afternoon?"
You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Actually, I was hoping that you could help me out with something."
"Oh, what might that be?" he furrowed his brow.
"Um..." you started. "I'm sure you noticed that I didn't do too hot on the last exam."
"Ah, I did," he said simply.
"You did?"
"Yeah, I was surprised, actually." Winchester opened up one of his desk drawers and sorted through some files before pulling out a packet you recognized as the exam you'd taken the week before. "You seem so engaged in class discussion and you've been doing well on everything else. This...this felt rushed. What happened?"
The soft expression of concern on his face only increased your shame. In all honesty, you'd wasted half the exam time away staring at him. He'd worn a red sweater over a cream colored button up that day. Then he'd rolled up the sleeves before handing out the exam papers. It felt stupid to admit that you'd been distracted by his goddamn forearms.
But you had been. You couldn't resist watching him as he'd circled the room, keeping an eye out for cheating. With his arms folded behind his back, you got the best look at the back of him. His long legs clad in khaki. Strong, tanned forearms corded with prominent veins. Shoulder blades pushed back confidently as he walked. Everything about his solid stature had your mind far, far away.
You'd been good at making sure your daydreams wouldn't get the better of you. But this time, before you knew it, Winchester was glancing down at his watch and announcing that you had fifteen minutes left for exam time. You had no choice but to rush through the rest of it, writing down answers that hardly even made sense just to fill in blanks.
Now those answers laid before you, condemning you to a low D– that dragged down your entire grade.
"I honestly couldn't tell you, Professor. I thought I studied enough but I guess not."
Though you'd attempted to laugh off his concern, Winchester obviously wasn't budging. "But these are rookie mistakes. Number fifteen for example. Where do the gods live?"
"Easy. Asgard."
"Right, but here you marked down the answer for Valhalla," he slid the paper around so you could look at the question.
Sure enough, there it was, your frantic pencil marks filling in the bubble for the incorrect answer. Damn.
"And that's just on the multiple choice questions," Winchester continued, flipping through the pages. "You barely followed any of the directions for the long answer questions. Your response to the short essay portion was a paragraph too short. And it was too unfocused."
Unfocused is right, Professor Winchester.
"I hate to say it...but I was a little disappointed."
The sting of tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. So you cleared your throat and blinked them back quickly. Voice trembling, you answered quickly, "I'm sorry, Professor. I wasn't on my game and I thought I'd pay you a visit so I could plead my case. I'm willing to do any kind of extra credit assignment. I don't care how much work it is. I'll do anything to fix my grade because I really want to do well in your class and–"
Winchester raised a hand, urging you to stop. Then he spoke, "Listen, I can see how badly you want this. So I'm going to make sure you get it. Just...let me think."
With that, Winchester rose from his seat and began to gather the papers that littered the surface of his desk. He stacked them neatly before opening a different drawer and laying them inside. After he closed the drawer, he made his way around the desk. You tried not to look at him as he made his way around the room, especially not when you felt his hand brush against the back of your chair. But you couldn't not notice when he drew the shade on his door's window and closed the blinds to his window, leaving the room dim save for the yellow light of his desk lamp.
Once he'd made his round, he returned to his chair and rolled back, leaving a massive gap between himself and the edge of his desk.
Then he did something else you didn't expect.
He patted the wood and said, "Come. Sit on my desk. Let me look at you."
You almost wavered on the direction when he cleared his throat expectantly. That brought you to your feet and compelled you to settle waveringly before him.
With his lips in a tight line, Winchester studied you. He tilted his head every few seconds, letting his eye flicker from your uncertain expression to your body. You sat up a little straighter in an attempt to satisfy his observation of you.
You weren't quite sure what he was doing, but it made you nervous; made you vulnerable in a way you weren't used to.
"I may have one extra credit opportunity that I can offer. Special. Just for you."
"Yeah? What do you want me to do?"
"Well, you can start by spreading your legs."
Your eyes went wide. "Professor Winchester, you're not–"
He cut you off quickly, "First, after office hours, you may call me Sam. Second, I'm not going to touch you. I'm simply asking you to give me a– a presentation," he decided.
"What kind of presentation?" you asked.
Your feigned innocence made the man chuckle softly. "The kind of presentation I'm sure you give in your dormitory bedroom every night."
There wasn't an ounce of jesting on his face, but still you played dumb. "I have no idea what you're referring to, Sam." His name felt foreign yet familiar on your tongue. Probably because you'd whispered it many times before in the exact scenario he'd described.
"I'd hoped you'd tell me the truth about why you were so distracted during your exam. But since you haven't been forthcoming, I guess I have to spell it out for you, haven't I?"
You swallowed hard and blinked nervously.
"You thought I wouldn't notice, did you?" he chuckles again. "It's hard not to notice when one of your students, especially one so beautiful, is practically drooling all over their table."
The scraps of flattery were evidently working on you as Sam smiled when you fiddled with your fingers in your lap as your skin got all warm and tingly. So he kept going.
"Besides, you're too intelligent to do this terribly on something you should've aced. Maybe you wanted to fail it. You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?"
"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to waste your time, I was just–"
"You weren't wasting my time. Wasting your time is continuing this pointless back and forth when you could instead be proving yourself."
"Proving myself?"
"Yes. Spread those legs...and earn your grade," he ordered.
Breathing in and out slowly, you did what you were asked. The knots in your stomach told you this was wrong. But the smile of approval that slowly grew on Sam's lips said that this was exactly what you both needed.
You'd never been more embarrassed to be wearing a skirt. One the fabric pooled around your hips, it only framed the damp patch on your underwear. Perhaps part of you had wanted something like this to happen. Because your pussy was already pulsing after simply being observed behind the cotton curtain that soaked up her anticipation.
"Very good," Sam breathed out.
"What do I do now?" you asked.
"Just...play with her. Show me what you like to do to make her happy."
You nodded, then pursed your lips as you thought. If you were going to present to him...you might as well go all out. So you shifted each of your thighs around, pulling down your underwear until your bare ass was planted on the desk and the garment was caught on one of your ankles. You lifted your left and held it out gently, the panty hanging in the air a little below Sam's face.
"Take them," you said. "Visual aid."
He smirked lazily at the offering before pulling them over your shoe, being careful not to actually touch you. Sam balled them up before bringing them to his nose and slowly breathing in the scent. You could tell he enjoyed it thoroughly as he let out a deep sigh from within his chest.
"With how wet these are...it's good to know you were prepared even for a surprise presentation. I knew there was a reason you're my favorite."
His words went straight to your cunt as a few drops of slick leaked from your hole and landed on the dark wood beneath you.
"Go on," Sam urged, gaze flickering to the drops of you on his desk. "She's waiting. And so am I."
You began to treat yourself with the same level of care as you did when you were alone. One of your hands reached up your shirt and you cupped one of your tits. You kneaded the flesh for a few seconds before focusing on the nipple, pinching it until it pebbled and poked through your shirt. The action made your breathing turn ragged.
You finally let your other hand travel south, bringing warmth to the soft skin of your thighs. Wanting better access to yourself, you pulled your leg up, resting a foot on the desk itself. Then you reclined back and let your fingers roam where they wanted.
Using two fingers, you spread your outer lips, only exposing yourself to Sam’s scrutiny even further. The cool air hitting your most vulnerable part, you shivered as goosebumps erupted across your skin. You looked up at him, gauging his approval of your performance.
“You’re doing so well already, keep going,” he encouraged, hardly concealing the arousal that clung thickly to his tone.
You took the praise with pride. It emboldened you enough to slip your two fingers between your folds to gather up some of the slick. You couldn’t help but feel mortified as you involuntarily gasped when your digits brushed slightly against your clit.
Sam let a quick puff of air out his nose. “Sensitive?”
“Mhmmm,” you whined.
“Bet you can’t even touch that pretty clit directly without crying, huh?”
You nodded.
“Then be gentle. I want you to last for me.”
You took that to mean that he didn’t want you touching yourself there yet. So instead you switched to focusing on your entrance. It wasn’t often that you went straight for penetration. Rarely did it bring the kind of relief you craved.
But you had the feeling that Sam would want to see it; to see your fingers filling yourself up and stretching you out.
With your fingers practically pruning already, you pushed one in ever so slowly. It took a second to adjust to the slight pressure, but still you began to carefully pump. The slick squelch only intensified when you slipped another one in and sped up your movements.
Though the pressure increased and built up tension in your belly, you could already tell it wasn’t going to go anywhere. You bucked your hips pathetically against your own hand, trying to get deep enough to hit your g-spot. But no matter how far you tried to probe, it was useless. Your fingers simply weren’t long enough.
Your eyes went wind, catching sight of something that most likely could reach that spot inside you. While you’d been fucking yourself, your professor had undone the button and the zipper on his pants and slipped himself out. There he sat, your panties in his hand and wrapped around the thick length of his cock. The angry red tip poked up and out of the fabric with each slow thrust. And you could already tell based on how long his strokes were that you’d most likely be able to feel him poking against your belly from inside you. The idea made you moan and throw your head back.
Sam swiftly reprimanded you, “Ah, remember your eye contact. I want you to look at me.”
Shame spread over your body. What the fuck was going on? Were you really fingering yourself on his desk right next to papers that he was surely going to return to students? Was Sam really fisting his own cock with your underwear? And were you actually enjoying this?
“Sweetheart,” Sam’s self control faltered slightly with the name. But it grabbed your attention nonetheless. “I need you to look at me. Let me look into your eyes when you make yourself come on my desk, alright?”
This was about more than fixing your grade. This was about pleasing him…by pleasing yourself. And as you returned his look, you were all in.
Under his watchful, half lidded, hazel eye you allowed yourself to focus on your aching clit which laid in wait like a pearl beneath the hood of skin covering it. Carefully, you pulled that hood back before lightly spreading some of your slick with a finger. You let the skin settle back in place over the sensitive nub before going straight to work.
You began to rub slow circles on the hood and finally properly moaned. It took only a few seconds for the muscle memory of your nightly ritual to kick in as the pleasure started to mount. Finally, all of that pressure in your core had some actual weight to it; a weight that was already beginning to roll in shallow waves over your whole being.
"There you go, sweetheart. Let me hear you loud and clear. Don't wanna miss a single sound from you," Sam groaned and you caught how the grip he had on himself tightened, how his pace quickened.
While rolling your hips against your hand, you pulled up a side of your shirt, exposing even more of yourself to him. Now he could easily see one of your tits rise and fall with your staggered breaths. He could see how the ball of fat dimpled under your fingertips as you squeezed and pulled at your hardened nipple.
Both sources of simulation had you whimpering breathlessly, "Sam, I-I'm so close– Let me come, please?"
Sam glared and asked through gritted teeth, "That's not my name. What do you call me in class?"
"Professor?"
Sam nodded darkly.
You took the cue quickly and begged helplessly, "Please, professor, please let me come–" you were cut off by the sound of your pleasure starting to push you over the edge.
Sam left you teetering, staring right over the border of this boundary. That boundary being an ethical nightmare that you had no clue how you'd navigate. But you wanted to be good for him; you craved his approval.
And thankfully, Sam gave it as he groaned, "There you go, good girl. You can come, you've got permission."
With that, you arched off the desk and burst with glorious clarity. A thin stream of your arousal drooled from your entrance as you rubbed yourself through the enormous implosions and the small aftershocks that followed. Your head was heavy with the fog of pleasure and you wanted to hang it back, give it a break.
But still, you were determined to keep your eyes on him, even as you pulled your fingers away from your trembling cunt and stuck them in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the wrinkled digits, soaking up every bit of yourself that you could.
Any sort of professionalism Sam had been trying to maintain up until that point shattered completely when he rolled his chair forwards. Closer to you now, you looked down into his soft eyes and watched how his normally objective stare went personal; emotional. He looked at you with the kind of admiration that made your heart flutter with pride.
He took his hand, placed it on your knee, and spread your legs further. His touch was so light, so soft that you could help feeling electricity dance along your spine.
"I thought you said you wouldn't touch me?" you whispered, only a hint of a smug smile tugging at your lips.
Choosing his words as carefully as ever, he explained, "That was before I decided that you needed some of my...guidance."
#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#hauntedhoedown#haunted hoedown#supernatural#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester smut#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester fic
373 notes
·
View notes
Note
AITA for assuming my friend’s boyfriend’s experiences with racism?
This sounds really awful but let me explain.
My friend and I (both 21F) study political science. About two years ago (we weren’t really friends back then) she got together with her boyfriend and they’ve been living together for some time as well. I never really liked him to begin with bc he has a very crude way of speaking and is just generally pretty overbearing. To be fair, I’ve never seen him and my friend arguing in any way and they are really sweet and considerate of each other so I don’t think he’s a bad person, just a little crass. We’ve never really seen eye to eye though so every time we meet we start arguing but it’s always been harmless and only half serious.
Now. The other day my friend and I met to discuss a project we’re working on and her boyfriend was there as well. We had dinner together and somehow the conversation turned towards experiences with racism in America.
For context: I’m black and my friend’s boyfriend is Chinese, I believe he came to the US when he was 16, so about 8 years ago. I don’t know much about his life before that but my friend has hinted that he had a really terrible childhood for various reasons.
Anyway, the discussion turned more and more heated and he said something I didn’t really agree with (I can’t remember what exactly but it was about racial discrimination in healthcare) and I said to him “I can’t believe you of all people would say that” (which I really didn’t think to be THAT crazy of a statement at the time). He completely went off on me, telling me to “shut my bitch ass mouth” with my western saviour complex and going on a tangent about how I knew nothing about his life and how he’d be a thousand times happier in the US than in Shanghai and how I’d be torn to shreds in China, especially the Chinese social networks. He seemed really upset to the point where he almost started crying.
After he was done yelling at me, he stormed out of the room and I left after apologizing to me friend who hadn’t said anything the entire time (which I don’t blame her for, she’s Norwegian and white and wouldn’t really be able to contribute something).
So I’ve been feeling awful this entire time bc I feel like I triggered him really badly or something but it was completely unintentional! My friend has been treating me like always and she told me not to worry but I don’t think I can stop that easily. I’m definitely going to apologize to him the next time I see him, even though idk if I should. So yeah was that really as bad as he made it seem to be? I’ll let you all be the judge of that.
What are these acronyms?
182 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I've read your document on The Strategy and it's really good! I think it's so cool that you've put all this research in and presented all the info so clearly!
I'm torn because I think the biggest thing I have to contribute to the discussion essentially boils down to a "the book was better" breakdown of the two versions of the story, and I want to stress that I don't hate the show or anyone who worked on it and I still want it to succeed.
But I'm REALLY passionate about all these thoughts I have about it. In your opinion, would it hurt The Plan if I was quite a bit negative in something I post about the show or does it still help because "any publicity counts" or whatever?
Thank you ovo
Hey! I'm so glad you liked the document! And my (long, big-picture) take is: I don't think you should be afraid at all to share your opinion on what you really thought of the show or if you believed the book (or for some people out there, the podcast) was a better experience. Any environment where people are made to feel like there is only ONE way to feel about a piece of media and that they can't express any differing opinion because there might be backlash (or criticism might harm the media's viability in some way) is not a healthy or productive one in my opinion.
If you have things you didn't like about the show's interpretation of the story or even anything else, I think it's IMPORTANT to say that! Echo chambers, even for things we like and want to succeed, are not going to help anyone in the long run. Unless there's the freedom and agency to be able to say, "yeah, I don't think this was great" or "this could have been better," and people don't feel pressure to always say "this thing was absolutely perfect and there were no flaws"... what starts to happen is that we lose the ability to be able to critically discern the GENUINELY good things from the merely satisfactory.
Like if fans of a band insist that EVERY ALBUM and EVERY SONG are all masterpieces, it starts to become a disservice since the actually better bits aren't able be recognized as genuinely being the best. If fans of a tv show insist that every episode is equally good, then the truly well-crafted ones can't stand on their own. It can be an understandable instinct for many fans not to want to criticize something you did really like or that comes from a creator you enjoy--after all, for some people that can feel like a self-criticism.
Or in the case of what you wrote this ask about-- there can also be discomfort in leveraging criticisms because it might feel that saying something has flaws or didn't really appeal to what you were hoping for can hurt that thing's ability to succeed (and cause some other fans to get up in arms because anything other than positive energy is taken as an attack). That can also lead to problems, since when it comes down to it, success doesn't always come because all the talk around it was only in approval. Plenty of objectively bad, controversial, or poorly crafted things do well all the time even when people say as much.
I wouldn't be afraid to speak your mind out of worries that you might be hindering "the Plan" or anything. Media rarely gets better and creators rarely have a chance to learn from their experiences if no one ever gives them honest feedback, good or bad. It's a healthy thing to do for making future projects better, helping fan communities from echo-chambering themselves, and there's always the off chance that criticism of something prompts someone to go check out the thing for themselves to see if they agree. People who did like the show's version might not like what you have to say, but I don't think you should let that stop you either.
That was a very long answer, but I hope it helps!
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Piercing through invisible armour
Summary: our lord not only wants to catch his game physically, but also mentally. And he still needs to clarify what the exact relations/hierarchy is on his planet.
Tags: MDNI, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Is His Own Warning, anticipation/threat of smut, talk of smut, a bit of smut, dubcon, unexperienced lead lady, talkative Feyd, predator/prey, teacher/student - the author regrets nothing
Part 3 of 6 of my contribution to the predator/prey thrope for Kinktober of @lady-phasma - nr 1-4 are chapters of 1 story (1-3 Feyd/OC hunt related, nr 4 is the reward for our lord), and nr 5-6 is me sharing my favourite chapter that I have written to date with the hunt between Rabban/OC. The 6 bits will be posted through daily posts.
Word count: 1.6k
How Feyd-Rautha had looked forward to this very moment. He wanted to savour this experience, every second of it, every centimetre of her body. He wanted to be able to recall everything. There would not be any room for haste, only for pure pleasure.
Securely he brought his game to his chambers. Deep in his heart he had hoped she would make another run for it, but it would also please him if she would submit. The hunt was done, now he would eat and feast.
She expected to be thrown on her back on his bed, but to her surprise she was placed on a couch, softly, to sit. He squatted before her, to look her in the eyes.
To see her core.
Her eyes were asking for him to claim her, make her his, to take her. He had learned to recognise that look. The eyes of many ladies before her had expressed the same considerations. Doubt. Should they or should they not. He knew this meant they wanted him, yet feared him. They desired what he may do and were afraid of that. Of what this may mean for their name and reputation, for their sanity, for their body. All these reasons combined often. It was fuel to his desires, urges. Intoxicating. It was all the permission he needed to do whatever his depraved heart felt like.
She seemed to cave in, hanging her head nearly in sorrow.
“Hmm. Don’t be like this. This is no fun” he pouted, gently placing her locks behind her ears. She responded by crouching even more. She had gone from fearsome to fearful in the blink of an eye.
That meant he may not be able to get the pleasure he had anticipated from her. He was planning on resistance, obliging him to use constraints. But he was a resourceful man. He would make due.
Sitting next to her he towered over her. Not a good place for an intimate conversation. So he placed his hand on her back to guide her to sit on his lap. She complied without discussion.
The pressure of her body weighing on him, her bruised feet and her tiny bloodied toes dangling: she looked like an afraid little girl, sitting like this, with her hands folded on her lap and her eyes focussed on the floor. She did not show resemblance of the warrior she was.
“Tell me”, he asked, as he wrapped an arm around her frame and rested his head on her shoulder while apparently mindlessly caressing her covered upper leg, “why are you here?”
“I...” she stalled. She could not believe he was asking her this. Her lips moved like they wanted to form words, but nothing came from her mouth. “You...” Following yet another pause: "why...?"
A sigh left her body.
“You cannot hide from me. Your body can't, nor can your mind” as he pressed the top of his bold head against her neck, and stroked her shoulder with his cheek. If she would not known better, she would believe she felt him purr.
“You brought me here” she responded with a voice as steady as she could muster.
“No, little one. I won't believe that" as he kissed her covered shoulder. "You would not let yourself be captured if you truly did not wanted to" followed by a shy kiss to the bottom of her neck. "You would not have let yourself be branded as mine, if you would not have yearned for it" as his lips touched the carving in her neck. "You would rather take your own life than to be here, with me, if you did not want to be here” as he licked the wound.
He looked up to her and smiled with his black teeth, while he squeezed her hip: “tell me that isn't true. Tell me you would never allow me to best you wilfully.” He saw her eyes meet his gaze briefly, only to escape again. “Convince me of that, and I will let you go." He threw one arm in the room, to emphasise this statement. "I will place you outside the gates of the palace, with a new suit, and you are free to go, as my fellow respected warrior.”
A small huff left him, as he placed his hand back on her lap: "I will give you a head start, before I start to hunt you again, of course. You still need to repent after all." She saw a sparkle in his eyes. She knew that every outcome of what would happen, would be to his delight and manufacture.
He placed his soft lips back on her neck and repeated softly: “convince me, little lady. Tell me you don't want to be here.”
She sniffed as if to reluctantly confirm what he had concluded earlier. “That is what I thought. You are here. You want to be here. You know you need to be here” as he wrapped his finger around a long curl that surrounded her bosom. “Be here, with me”, his finger moving to her collarbones, following the soon to be scar he had left up to her ear. "To be mine. To have. To hold. To teach. To mold. To break. To become my darling." He moaned at the thought. "Isn't that a delicious idea, my lovely? Wouldn't that make you happy? Sooth the urges that brought you onto my lap? To allow you to sooth my urges that you brought onto my lap?"
Pursing his lips, he forced her to look at him, while his eyes glanced down her gown at her chest. “Now, tell me. Did your friends know you are a woman?” he asked, while plucking at dress to get a better view, already knowing the answer.
“No”, she confirmed, not entirely sure where this conversation would end.
“Hmm. And have you ever been with a man?” he continued, again, already familiar with the answer. His precious lips met her ear, as she felt his warm breath flowing over her. She did not answer, but let out a small gasp as she closed her eyes. “You can tell me. I don't judge” a smoky voice said, as he started to unbutton the front of her barely-there dress.
Automatically her hands tried to pry his hands away, causing him to grab her hands and place them on his chest. "No" as he looked at her sternly. “This is where your hands belong. For now. I will teach you.” Glancing at her: “because you are here to be taught. Aren't you? My little Fremen student.”
With her hands carefully gracing the muscles she had felt days ago, they started roaming him. Feeling him, as if to verify the map planted in her head days ago. Hearing him moan agreeable to her actions.
“You would not give yourself to just any man" he said dead serious. "No. You were waiting for me” he stated. No question, no uncertainty. A mere statement.
“Now tell me, what have you experienced with other men?” while he continued to pluck at her garment.
Naively she responded, unconsciously raising her fingers while she listed: “I have eaten, trained, planned, sparred, fought, killed with other men. I have killed other men.”
“I know that, my delightful warrior" as his mouth uncovered one of her shoulders. "But what else? Has a man ever kissed you? Touched you. Licked you? Bitten you? Been in you? Filled you? Deviled you?”
“Uh... well, their knives have been” she responded ever so naively. “You have seen my scars. You have placed another one on my body.”
He aggressively grabbed her face to look at her, only to conclude, with surprise: “you are serious?”
Terrified by this sudden change in atmosphere, she nodded her head, surprised by the look on his face.
“You have no clue, do you?” looking at her doe eyes. “You are so sweet.” He whispered, to himself: "you are a little present. Mine to unwrap for the first time to and play with." Grabbing her a bit firmer, to prevent her from escaping, placing his soft lips on her ear again, he whispered: “I was planning on shackling you to my bed, with the cuffs you managed to avoid. Two bands to contain your wrists" as he touched one of her wrists, "two around your ankles" as he touched her knee, "and a last one around your neck” as he circled this hand upwards, to rest all digits around her neck. He felt her tensing. “Rip the clothes of your body. Have you lay there, not being able to move, while I explore every bit of your body. Fuck you with the back of my knife. Hmm, your own knife would be better. Both. Get you to bleed for me while I carve the rest of you with my blade. Enjoy your body up to the point where you beg for me to bring you pleasure or death, only to deny you both, repeatedly." He was clearly delighted with his own nasty words: "I was planning on doing vile things to you. Walk you on a leash through the palace, whip you until you are as red as blood, take you from behind while denying you air, get you to beg to hold my cock in your mouth" as he softly clenched his hand around her neck. "Which you would get, eventually. Well, your throat to be exact" as he pressed each of his fingers a bit deeper. "To fuck you so long that you shiver into unconsciousness.”
He looked at her shocked face, knowing that she was visualising what he was painting in front of her: “but you do not know which pleasures I mean. You are still untainted." Placing his face in her hair: "you are so pure. So sweet. All for me."
Stroking her hair, while he pushed his face harder against her, he asked with a soft voice: "do you know what fucking is? Do you have any idea?"
"Uhm.. yes. I think so. It is when people push each other" she tried to explain, as truthfully as she dared.
His laughter filled the room, as he was planning on filling her as well. "You are something special. I have never had a pet so unfamiliar with the ways of this world." He kissed her as gently as he could, as if to make her feel comfortable with her lack of knowledge.
He placed one hand on each of her thighs and abruptly pulled them apart. One of her hands was led to his ever growing manhood, after which he pushed her dress up to uncover her entire legs. Moving her panties to the side, he pushed two fingers in her, as she gasped with the speed that all of this was happening. Clinically he said while staring at her: "this here, my dearest" as he pulled his fingers in her up, touching a source of pleasure "is your pussy. I have been longing to be in there, ever since you were here in this very room nights ago. I knew you were a woman when I layed eyes on you. I could smell it." He gruffed: "you are now holding my cock, which by the way you may squeeze a bit harder."
To reward her compliance he hummed: "very good. You learn quickly."
He continued: "not only my fingers want to be in you. My tongue wants to steal all your moisture, that is so precious to you Fremen. My cock longs to be in you, to see into your core. In each of your three holes to be exact. And that is why you are here. Because you want my cock to fill you. To fuck you. Which I am happy to oblige."
By the time his monologue was done, he felt her breath having risen to the top of her chest, her face became very blushed and his fingers started to be soaked.
It caused him to declare solemnly: "it will be my duty to teach you, to initiate you, to taint you. I take my role as governor of this planet quite serious.”
He forcefully grabbed her neck with his free hand to roam his teeth across, and growled with a deep voice that scared her: “I usually find it to be quite boring if they are not trained for my preferences." Moving to a softer voice: "but I will make an exception for you. Because you have surrendered to me, so sweet, so innocent” as he placed his lips on hers, tilting her head back and forcing her to open her mouth. A rush came over him, as she responded and welcomed his tongue. She had potential.
Holding her tight, he stood up to bring her to his dreaded bed. This would not end here.
+++
Next parts listed on my pinned post
33 notes
·
View notes
Note
robyn i’m begging please tell me you’ve watched arcane and that you’re a caitlyn/caitvi defender i am tired of fighting alone 💔💔
I AM I AM I AM !!! and i get the dislike okay, i get the whole cop/marginalised community thing but so many of the people that are against caitvi just WATCHED arcane and didn't understand it, yk? i know the "we need more complex female characters" crowd HATEEEE to see a complex female character coming (but of course, prefacing this by saying you can like/dislike whatever characters you want ! the same way cait/caitvi enjoyers should be able to without being called facists)
first of all, mirror of jinx. if you hate cait, hate jinx too. and i know it's different because of their classes but that's the POINT. that's the whole point, they're all just people and they both lose someone important to them and are subsequently manipulated. and look, cait's morals are dicey okay - that's what makes a good character, and i mean good in terms of interesting not as a pinnacle of moral righteousness - but she is fundamentally good.
i think the big thing with caitvi, is a lot of their conversations are non-verbal and we don't actually see them discuss any of it. would i have liked to have seen it? yes. do i get that it happens without seeing it? also yes, that's what the whole end scene is. "are you still in this fight, violet?" - we've only just begun, the war is over but we have a lot to talk about and so much untangle and i need to know if there's a chance for forgiveness because i know i've done awful things. "i'm the dirt under your nails, cupcake. nothing's gonna clean me out." - i know. i know we have a lot to talk about, i know there's awful things we have to clear up, but this is me reassuring you that i'm not going anywhere, and i'm still in this fight.
and then the prison scene?! cait is so blinded by hatred and we see that, we see a complete difference between s1 cait and s2 cait and that's the POINT!!!! i'm adding a photo below of a something that's been in my drafts for ages (unedited so not very coherent) but !!! it's the whole point 😖 that prison scene is a return to the cait we know, to actual cait who isn't being manipulated and finally understands that her grief is being monopolised (there were many signs throughout that she was against this and had been manipulated, but this is The Big Revelation scene) - AND SHE APOLOGISES HERE TOO! the slow reach out to the wound, letting vi take control, stopping to be honest about maddie? the entire interaction with jinx?? "hating you, i've hated myself" - againnnn, none of this excuses her actions but it shows she isn't the big villain everyone wants her to be.
and vi forgives her.
and we joke a lot about "one cupcake and she deflects" in the mongoose/oil slick scene (lmao) but it's so much more than that. it's so much more than just liking vi, because vi is the first person she meets that shows her she doesn't have to be like her family, that the world is bigger than being head of the house, and that people contain multitudes - of courseee that reconnection is going to cause a shift, because she never truly believed in it anyway, and the physical reminder that she has a Choice has just come back into her life
and i think the most important thing is actually explicitly said: "No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes."
she's aware. she's so aware of what she's done, she becomes aware of why she did it, and whilst that doesn't excuse any of it, she explicitly acknowledges that it doesn't !! and she opens up the door in that last scene for the conversations that need to be had.
so do i think she's perfect? no. do i think any of this excuses her actions? no. do i think she's a raging facist that contributes to poor wlw rep and anyone who likes the ship should be bashed over the head with a rock? also no.
i think she's a character that contains multitudes, is an incredible example of how the human spirit and morality is not built for war, we weren't meant for this weighing of lives, and i think her character arc is so important for class consciousness and social change - we need those at the top that are more empathetic to see our struggles, and we need them to unlearn their prejudices which are embedded into them by the very same systems that oppress us. which feels pertinent today with all the eat the rich discussions and people saying luigi isn't some hero, he's the rich we need to eat - class is so much more complicated than that.
so,,, yes ! caitvi defender and a cait defender because i understand that liking a character does not equate to liking all their actions, and that morality is never going to be as black and white as we were taught to believe in disney films. humans are messy, humans are complicated and will never be easily-categorisable into good or bad, and i think that love is not always perfect, but it persists anyway and that's rather lovely for caitvi.
i think it's incredible character design, incredible relationship design, and the show asks so many questions about morality and class divisions that aren't always easy to comprehend, and aren't always explicit. you have to dig for the details - the slightly shift in lighting, the dilating of a pupil, the slow reach out; it's all there, it just isn't obvious. and i'm rambling and looking too far into it now but we also only see vi through caitlyn's eyes a couple of times. we only get caitlyn's first-person pov a few times: shes's so closed off even to herself, it's going to be difficult to decipher her character and her morality when she isn't even allowing herself that dissection. and i think she doesn't allow that because she knows she'll dislike what she finds, she knows she is fundamentally against what she's doing, she just needed a reminder that life is bigger than her predetermined role (vi coming back - see here; one of the view cait povs we get is immediately after vi coming back, and them fooling ambessa) and she can infact make that choice.
so complex and so interesting.
ANYWAY! this has been a messrsrarchives ted talk, thank you for joining me here today and i leave you with my other rant about something i keep seeing on tiktok - unedited and messy oopsie.
#asks#forever and always a caitlyn/caitvi fan - i love me some complex characters#and i think fandom spaces as a whole need to get to grips with the fact fiction does not reflect your own personal morals#do i like certain characters that are actual villains? yes. does that make me one? no its fictional#free yourself from purity culture and find the beauty in grey characterisations i beggeth you
14 notes
·
View notes
Note
By your prior response, it seems like you believe in 50/50. Generally speaking, not everyone is willing to be in a relationship where the man is providing 100% of the bills but I followed you because I thought that was your view. A feminine high value woman bring with a man who provides 100% of the bills. Not a girlfriend but a wife who depends on her husband however, she still has her own. Her husband gives her the option whether she wants to work or not, she lives a life of leisure and luxury. Has her own personal savings account etc. Idk I thought you had a different mindset when it came to finances in a relationship.
Firstly, I don’t keep my blog active for the follower count. I began CSB to keep a track of everything I’ve personally learned over the years. My content is also mostly about productivity and self growth. I very rarely discuss love and relationships on here and only if I ever feel like it. You may unfollow me if you feel that my content doesn’t resonate with you!
I don’t, in fact, believe in 50-50. My family allows me to believe the same as well. However, my background and birth circumstances are different. Even if a man decides to provide for me and I let him, I can leave at any point because my family would 100% step in and financially and legally support me at any time - not everyone has that privilege unfortunately. Most people’s lives and realities are not the same. I cannot advise my followers based on just my own background because that would be irresponsible of me.
I never said that a man should absolutely never provide for you. I said it’s difficult for most people to not have a dual income household in this economy. I’ve already mentioned that my partner himself doesn’t let me pick up the bill. I further said that you should be able to have enough money on you in case you need to leave for whatever reason and that the reality is, most of you guys are not going to find some billionaire lovesick man who’s going to hand you his Amex card on the third day of you guys meeting. And yes. You NEED to contribute to any relationship to make it work and finance isn’t the only way. Even if your man tells you to stay at home, you’re still going to be expected to contribute one way or the other. You cannot have it all.
There are enough crazy stories out there about financial abuse. There needs to be a certain amount of time + emotional intimacy + rationality involved in order for a man to provide for you. The reality is that today’s economy is not suited for everyone. Gone are the days where $100 could be stretched to every cent and you could live a decent life on it. If a man can give you the option to work, he can also switch up at any point and take back that option. Would you be ready for a switch like that? Would your past grades, work experience, etc still be relevant? What if you decide to leave him - are you in the position to?
You can do what you like in your personal life because it doesn’t concern me. But if you genuinely think that a man is going to happily and blindly start providing for you from the first date without any sort of expectation from you - I implore you to understand that real life and tumblr hypergamy don’t always intersect.
Half of your mindsets have been screwed by these so-called tumblr hypergamy blogs, with all honesty. It’s also partly bullshit and partly very culture dependent. Most eastern cultures are hypergamous BUT there is a strong family value system, there are strings attached, and a strong cultural influence, divorce is looked down upon, you’re expected to stay with your husband through all the bullshit, you’re expected to compromise at any point and a lot more for your husband; there are expectations from both the partners. I remember coming across a blog of a girl who was this “hypergamy queen” only for her to disclose she was in fact, broke, and start begging for tips from her tumblr followers. I don’t think half of you guys even understand the reality of being financially provided for.
63 notes
·
View notes
Note
Obviously nobody should be talking poorly about any of Bumble's competitors but it's insane how people voting for Alex are going 'its a CAT'. Like, okay and? Alex Dewitt is ink on paper and we rightfully take issue with her writing to the point of making it a term, so why is it any different when a fictional cat has misogynistic writing? And these are cats with a society, laws, religion, and understanding of (herbal) medicine. They are on par with people. And, it's a YA series. Shouldn't people take the message "fat, abused women dying isn't a problem because they can't contribute ackshually, and if we acknowledge it is how can the goodboy main character stop licking his brother's kitty boots if he's a bad person :(" as a red flag in any series? Let alone one for kids? Like, did everyone outside of the fandom miss the Ashfur defense? Because I was there for it and it was pretty clear a LOT of impressionable children genuinely believed the "he only loved too much" excuse hook line and sinker, and blamed Squirrelflight for everything. There were so many fans genuinely believing that I literally remember seeing hate art and fanfics portraying Squirrelflight as a horrible person just for asking to stay friends. That alone was a testament to how harmful Warriors can be, all because of that one scene of Ashfur being spotted in StarClan.
And with that fiasco in mind, how can anyone trivialize it to Bumble being 'just a cat'? Especially when kids are reading this, and could really take the harmful message Gray Wing the """Wise""" has for them that if you have nothing to contribute to the people you desperately need help from, you are stupid for trying to ask for it. I was lucky to not take any of the really harmful portrayals relationships in Warriors to heart, but not everyone will be. People should support Alex all they want, she deserves it! But downplaying what happened to Bumble because she's a cat is harmful :(
Alex DeWitt's story is so shocking and straightforward that you're able to sum it up with a single word; "Fridging." It's become the touchstone for a wider discussion about misogyny in media because it is so evocative and so easy to explain as an example.
That IS important. That IS a legacy.
But somehow, if you try to explain how EARLY misogyny in media starts, and how pervasive it is even in "less respectable" mediums like YA xenofiction, they lose their fucking minds. People who refuse to read anything at all going, "what could possibly have happened to a cat?"
You know what, though? I'm GLAD Bumble is winning, and I'm proud of this fandom and our campaigning. I think we actually deserve to be a little smug about this after all the damn "justa cat" comments. Bumble doesn't HAVE a legacy. The book doesn't VALUE HER LIFE AT ALL! "It's so sad Clear Sky is going to have his reputation ruined for killing this useless woman. I never liked Bumble anyway, what matters about this is my poor brother :("
The runner of the Canon Misogyny Tournament mentioned in passing how they kinda take issue with the idea of quantifying misogyny based on suffering because of how it oversimplifies the insidious ways it can express in a narrative, and I've thought a lot about that a lot. They're right.
And Alex is THE posterchild of this because her death is ghoulish. We needed what happened to her as a simple, evocative term, to advance the conversation around media misogyny and get it through people's skulls. But, she has become the conclusion of a sentiment that the more gruesome the death is, the more misogynist that makes it.
but. The fridge was not the misogynistic part of what happened to Alex. THE FACT SHE WAS ONLY INVENTED TO DIE FOR THE PAIN OF A MAN IS. THAT is what the term "fridging" is supposed to point out; The absolute LACK of interest in her as a 3-dimensional character, in women as people, to the point where the writer chose to send Alex out in a gorey, disrespectful way solely as a motivator for her boyfriend. THAT is the bad part.
But instead people have latched onto the fridge half. More violent = more misogyny.
There's a lot of ways for a narrative to be misogynist, though. To downplay the lives, emotions, or contributions of women characters, and to reinforce real-world bigotry.
Warrior Cats does a LOT of this, blaming bad mothers who didn't shut up and accept their 'purpose in life' for Brokenstar's tyranny, making it a TRAGIC thing that Clear Sky is being held accountable for murdering women because his man pain makes it ok, and even blaming Squirrelflight for rejecting Ashfur's advances which caused him to go "crazy" and attempt to murder her children (until, of course, the welcomed retcon of TBC).
Bumble's death, because she is a fat woman, is treated as unavoidable. It's not a terrible thing she died, Gray Wing never really liked her anyway, what REALLY "matters" is that now no one likes her murderer.
She was stupid and selfish to even ask for help, because she is so fat and weak. To be upset at all that her only friend watched her get dragged back to her abuser. Even as she bleeds out, she gets to listen to Turtle Tail making up excuses and wishing she "could have found happiness."
All while Tom the Wifebeater, the fat man who physically assaulted two women, gets a big cutesy redemption death and honored and beloved by everyone and even gets to "lose weight and that's so good :)". Because the books value the lives of men more than the lives of women, plain and simple.
Bumble wasn't just fridged. It's worse than that. Her life doesn't even have enough value to get Clear Sky held accountable for murdering her, because beloved writer favorite Gray Wing hated her for being friends with his wife and doesn't want anyone to hate his poor, innocent big brother :(
Like you said, you can ask anyone in this fandom and they'll tell you about the impressionable kid they were, or have MET, who was badly influenced by the constant misogyny of these books. People who defend Bramblestar tooth and nail as he abuses his wife, the screeds against both Leafpool and Nightcloud for making Crowfeather sad, and the absolutely radioactive Ashfur Defenders who have thankfully died down since TBC's welcome retcons.
It doesn't just end with annoying internet comments. Those kids carry that kind of message with them. It reinforces existing biases and causes them to downplay abused women and toxic men in their real lives.
But sure, "just a cat." Cool way to downplay the 20-year-old bestselling YA fantasy series that is still ongoing but ok. 50000 Bumblesweeps upon ye.
(though i do also have to say, since I started speaking more about it today, I'm seeing more non-wc fans push back against the 'just a cat' comments. Sincerely, thanks guys. It's not every DC fan or Alex voter, just a very vocal section of sore losers willing to downplay misogyny because they're angry.)
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄
Soshiro Hoshina x Fem!Oc!
PROLOGUE
MASTERLIST | AO | PR | CH.1 | CH.2 | CH.3
English is not my mother tongue, so there may be spelling errors. An apology for that in advance :D
Belonging to a Kaiju-hunting family, and an influential one in Japan, was a privilege that only two percent of the population could have. Expectations for the descendants were extremely high.
Belonging to the Nakano clan meant facing unattainable expectations, a burden that only the heirs of that clan could bear. Sacrifice from an early age was a characteristic for which the clan was renowned.
Naomi Nakano was the head of the clan, an older woman who had contributed significantly to Kaiju research and hunting in her youth.
Now retired, she dedicated herself to training her descendants, with the goal of making them perfect hunters.
“You're late, you bastards.” Naomi looked sternly at the quadruplets who knelt in front of her. “Don’t defend them,” she interrupted the older sister of the quadruplets when she tried to speak. “They will train until dawn for this.”
The quadruplets uttered no complaints, standing still like statues, accustomed to their grandmother's harsh treatment.
“I called you because I have something important to announce,” Naomi continued. “One of you will marry the second heir of the Hoshina family.”
All the sisters looked at the clan matriarch in surprise; they expected anything but an engagement.
Hinata, the eldest of them all, tried to protest.
“Grandmother! They're still too young for that!”
“Silence!” Naomi’s shout made the quadruplets shudder. “The decision has been made, and there are no objections. It’s bad enough that these four are tarnishing the family legacy by being half-breeds.”
Hinata looked helplessly at her grandmother, disgusted by her mistreatment of her younger sisters. Naomi’s dislike of her four granddaughters for not being fully Japanese was enormous, and she always made sure they knew it.
Naomi left the room, leaving an awkward silence among the five sisters.
“I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her and….”
“Stop apologizing,” interrupted Lilia, the oldest of the quadruplets. “Who should do it is that woman. You will only cause grandmother to despise you too for defending us.” Lilia stood up. “And marriage is not so bad; at least one of us will be able to get out of this damned house.”
“It shouldn’t be like that,” Hinata said, her voice thick with frustration as she tried to move closer, but Lilia stopped her firmly.
“In our case, yes,” Lilia replied, motioning for her sisters to stand up. “If you really want to help us, become the next clan leader. Ignore our presence and the harsh treatment we receive. You fit the perfect grandmother mold.”
“I can’t do that. I can’t let her treat them like that,” Hinata insisted, her eyes full of determination. The quadruplets’ red eyes glowed slightly, reflecting their distress. “They’re not to blame for what Mom did.”
Lilia let out a sigh full of exasperation, looking at her with a mixture of pity and anger.
“Stop seeing that woman as a saint,” she said in a harsh voice. One by one, the sisters began to leave the room, leaving Lilia and Hinata alone. They didn’t want to be part of the same repeated discussion about their mother. “If you want to stay in your fantasy world where you see her as something beautiful, that’s your problem. But I’m not going to let you drag my sisters into that world.”
Hinata took a step back, hurt by her sister’s words. The silence between them was tense, charged with resentment and unspoken pain.
“My job is to protect them, and if I have to protect them from you as well…” Lilia paused, her voice trembling with restrained emotion. “I will no longer consider you my sister.”
The air in the room seemed to grow thicker, almost unbearable. Hinata felt as if the floor was crumbling beneath her feet. Her breathing quickened, and her heart was pounding wildly.
“Lilia, please…” she tried to say, but the words choked in her throat.
Lilia did not look at her; her eyes were fixed on the door. With a last sigh, she walked out of the room, leaving Hinata alone in a sea of conflicting emotions. The door closed with a soft click, but the sound echoed in Hinata’s ears like thunder, marking the end of their relationship as she knew it.
#soshiro hoshina#hoshina soshiro#kn8#kaiju no 8 x reader#kaiju no. 8#soshiro x oc#husband!soshiro#hoshina x reader#fem oc#husband hoshina#soshiro#hoshina#hoshina soshiro x wife! reader
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere! Rintarou Suna General Profile
Yandere! Rintarou Suna x fem! reader
Cw: kidnapping, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of hypothermia/death, rin locks you in a freezer but don't worry it hurts him too </3, stalking, voyeurism, non-consensual recording/photography, harassment, possessiveness, mentions of non-con, Stockholm Syndrome, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 10.0 K
DARLING PROFILE:
Social
Despite Rintarou’s usually quiet, apathetic personality, he finds himself drawn to people who are more talkative and outgoing.
It’s not that he necessarily wants to converse himself, but it’s a relief for him to know that his darling is able to express themself, and is able to carry on a conversation with little to no unease.
He likes listening to their words, letting himself be entertained and guided along in a conversation. He’s not normally the instigator in conversations; he prefers to chime in when he feels like it, and while his darling doesn’t need to be constantly talking, he’d like a darling that can take the lead in a conversation.
Honestly, it’s almost impressive to Rintarou, and the fact that his darling doesn’t mind being the talkative and social one in the relationship only feeds his more obsessive tendencies - the more they talk and ramble about what they love, the more information he learns and is able to store away for future reference.
He loves learning about his darling, and he honestly could sit for hours and just listen to them talk and talk.
It’s therapeutic in a way to the middle blocker, and he absolutely adores this aspect of his darling.
Smart
Rintarou himself is quite analytical and intelligent, and as a result he has little patience with those who might not be as blessed. He was somewhat lazy throughout his schooling; always slacking off and falling asleep in class, but only because his natural smarts saved his ass and allowed him to be lenient on studying and listening to the teachers.
And even throughout his professional career, Rintarou’s had to rely on this intelligence to help him perform and successfully read his opponents in the midst of points.
And while he doesn’t need a partner that’s a genius (though, he doesn’t mind), having a partner who is at least knowledgeable is a requirement for him. He doesn’t have the time and patience to deal with people that he has to explain his jokes to, or that aren’t able to keep up with conversations happening around them.
He finds it to be a major attraction when his darling is able to contribute meaningful things to a discussion, and in particular if they were to showcase their knowledge in their given field to Rintarou.
He'd stare with such intensity as they explain the foundations of their job and field, him hanging onto their every word as he notes the way they look so happy and excited, how their face brightens up and fuck he wants to kiss them so badly.
He just really likes the idea of a smart, capable darling, and while he likes the idea of taking care of them, he wants to know that he’s not wasting his time on a complete idiot.
Playful
He can be quite teasing and witty, and having a darling that can go along with his jokes and deadpan comments would be an immense turn on for the brunette.
He likes the idea of someone that can keep up with all of the shit that comes out of his mouth; he’s selective about his words, but often they’re said in a teasing way, and having a darling that’s too sensitive to this would likely not pan out well.
He needs someone who is able to take it and dish it out back - they don’t have to be the funniest or the quickest thinker, but a darling who will laugh at his words and throw in a remark here or there to counter him would be wonderful.
People who are more meek and nervous when talking to others aren’t his ideal type, and while it’s possible for his darling to have aspects of this in their personality, Rintarou mainly falls for those who are more assertive with their words. And while his darling doesn’t need to be the most confident in themselves, they need to be able to put up with his rather snarky attitude.
Knowing that his darling has his back is something that Rintarou thrives on, and it only further proves to him how perfect they are for one another.
Kind
While Rintarou isn’t inherently mean, there’s just something about the honesty of compliments when they leave his darling’s lips that makes him smile.
His own personality is snarky, full of teasing remarks and a rather objective view of the events around him, and so to have someone who is naturally more adept at being honest and welcoming towards others is stubbornly adorable to him.
Of course, he’s internally a flustered, dazed mess when they tell him how talented he is at volleyball, how smart he is, how his hair is so uniquely him. His heart is racing in his chest and his palms are growing sweaty, the sound of his darling’s voice complimenting him permanently etched into his memory, but on the exterior he stays the same blank faced man he always is.
There’s just something so disarming about what his darling says, and just when he thinks his beloved can’t get any better, any more perfect, they let something slip out that makes his heart melt, and he’s once again struck with the question of how he got lucky enough to have a soulmate so wonderful.
His darling inspires him to try and compliment them more too – he certainly notices all kinds of beautiful, attractive things they say and do, but as soon as he goes to say the words they get stuck on the tip of his tongue.
He wants to tell his darling that they’re gorgeous when they wear that shade of blue, but despite the number of times he practiced mentally and in the bathroom mirror that morning, he never seems to be able to.
And so, Rintarou would love a kind darling because they inspire him to be kind as well - Rintarou doesn’t know why it makes him happy, but he’ll be damned if he lets them slip away.
GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:
Possessive
While Rintarou isn’t particularly insecure, he’s more than aware that he isn’t the ‘ideal’ man.
He’s quiet, snarky, lanky, someone who prefers to simply watch and be more in the background. He knows he’s different from someone like his teammates, like his long time friends the Miyas, even as irritating as it may be to admit. He may be a professional athlete now, raking in money with every ball he hits, but he knows there’s more flashy, cooler players even on his own team.
He’s fully aware that he isn’t every girl’s dream guy, and this knowledge along with the sheer amount of desperation he feels for your love is a bit of an ugly mix.
He’s hyper aware of the fact that you likely aren’t aware of the depth of his feelings for you. He's sure that you’re blissfully ignorant to the way his heart nearly beats out of his chest the moment your name is mentioned, how his cheeks flush pink when he’s laying in bed imagining your soft body is in his arms, when he’s gulping harshly and trying to discreetly fix his pants before he walks into the café and sees you.
You likely aren’t aware of the way he’s taken to following you and thinking of you every moment of the day, but it doesn’t change the fact that Rintarou is thoroughly and completely hooked on you, utterly enraptured by every little thing you do, every little part of you that adds up to the woman he thinks he loves.
You may not know, but Rintarou wants you to be completely and utterly his, solely and only his girl, just as his heart is so desperately yearning for, just as he thinks of you in his mind. He’s sure you aren’t aware of his feelings because he purposefully tries to keep them concealed, but it doesn’t change the way an ugly feeling of rage simmers in his chest when another man approaches you, how his fists grow clammy and his eyes narrow when another guy is looking at you, when you get brought up in conversations that he happens to overhear.
He knows he doesn’t really have any grounds to feel jealous, that his hold and claim on you is purely in his mind, but Rintarou doesn’t fucking care. It’s still painful to imagine you with another man, to think of you smiling and laughing and getting flustered at the hands of someone else.
It makes him ill to think of you with someone who won’t love you like he does, who doesn’t know the real you as well as he does, who can’t provide for you and protect you like he can. It’s irritating as hell, and so Rintarou tries his best to keep other guys from being interested in you, to keep all other potential competition at bay so that when he’s finally ready to make a substantial move, you’ll feel that he’s your only choice.
He’s managed to weasel his way into your personal life, becoming a friend and accompanying you to nearly everything you do in public.
He’s subtly dropping hints that you’re not interested when he overhears others’ conversations, mentioning off-handedly that you’re already talking to someone (she’s always looking at her phone and smiling, you know what that means), that you’re not interested in a relationship (there’s this guy from her work who’s a volunteer firefighter that keeps trying to get with her – really hot, and if she’s saying no to him, then why would you ever be a yes?).
He’s even going so far as to lie about your sexuality just to get guys off of your trail, to keep you reserved for him and only him once the time is right.
Jealousy hits him in waves, difficult to ignore and counter once they’ve taken root in his gut, and while it’s a preventative measure more than anything to tip off those other guys who express interest in you, it’s still not enough.
Its never enough, if he’s being honest, because each time he sees someone like Atsumu or even Osamu approach you and look like such a better option, he’s seeing red and panicking, his mind running a mile a minute as he desperately tries to conjure up a plan to stop the impending doom, to keep you single and his.
Sabotaging any possible relationships is better than nothing, after all, but Rintarou still isn’t satisfied – he won’t be, really, until he’s finally stolen you away, made you his for the rest of your days, but in the meantime, he does what he can to keep the horribly overwhelming possessive thoughts at bay, to keep the urge to wrap you in his arms and hide you away from the world as dormant as possible.
And in doing this, a few new habits form – namely, he notices that the possessive and invasive thoughts tend to be stronger at night, when he’s lying alone in bed missing you and your body, wishing you were there to warm the sheets and press soft kisses against his jawline.
He’s missing you, finding himself using his pillow as a substitute for your body, even as pathetic and weird as it makes him feel. He notices it’s strongest then, which is why his whirling brain suddenly appraises an image that has his face turning pink, his body warming up, a small patch of sweat forming at his temples as he imagines the way you’d look with a network of small, dark hickeys against your neck and collarbones.
They’d be deep, sprinkled from behind your ears to the tops of your breasts, impossible to hide and marking you as fully, utterly his, his lover and partner to kiss and worship, his to mark up and claim, just as he so urgently wants to.
It’s a nice thought, really, and as his hand slides down his abdomen and he shakily exhales, Rintarou is content with the thought that one day he will paint you with his hickeys, that you’ll be wearing his marks like a necklace, the dark bruises decorating your skin like a fucking painting so that the world knows for absolute certainty that you’re the property of Rintarou Suna, that he owns you now and always.
So really, when you catch him staring at your collarbones the next day with his lips parted and his pupils blown wide, don’t be surprised – just as you shouldn’t be when you wake up in his basement, those fox-like eyes staring at you while his fingers itch with the urge to touch you.
He finds himself drifting into delusions about you much more than normal as his obsession carries on; ideas of keeping you locked away in his apartment, your pretty face smiling at him and hugging him when he comes home from practice, dinner on the stove and the TV already cued up to his favorite movie.
He’s imagining the way you’d tell him about your day and how much you missed him, how you’d smile at him and let the ring on your finger sparkle in the light as you ask him how his day went.
You’ll notice the way his eyes start lingering on your ring finger when you’re together, how his fingers seem to just be there, always nearby.
Don’t be surprised about how he starts referring to you more with ‘my’ in front of your name, calling you his friend, his coffee mate, his his his.
Don’t be surprised, because this isn’t anything new – Rintarou has always wanted to claim you as his, but now that he can?
Well, how can he not let all his possessive tendencies flourish once you’re all his?
Stalker
While he isn’t explicitly scared to talk to you or approach you, Rintarou is self aware enough to know that he isn’t exactly an extravert, that talking and making conversation isn’t his specialty.
He enjoys conversing with you, truly, but it’s hard to know where to take the conversation, how to make you laugh and smile (because fuck do you look pretty when you chuckle, when your chiming giggle hits his ears, and while Rintarou isn’t one to normally be easily flustered, there’s something about the pride that swirls in his chest when he makes you smile that has his cheeks flushing ever so slightly pink), how to flirt with you and make you flustered and sad to see him go.
He isn’t too confident in his abilities to woo you (despite Atsumu’s frequent and unsolicited advice and offers to teach him how), so he falls back on a different method of being in your presence, of spending time with you.
That is, it might not be as consensual or interactive as speaking with you, but stalking you gets the job done too, and that’s all he can really ask for.
Besides, there’s something to be said about getting to enjoy you in silence, of getting an unobstructed view into who you really are, when you think you’re alone and safe and having privacy in your own home.
You’re vulnerable like this, your true self as you slip into bed or cram for an upcoming project at work, and in a lot of ways Rintarou believes that this is a more valuable and real way of getting to know you, of getting to feed the insatiable desire in his heart to see you.
It’s more effective, in a lot of ways, if only because this way he spends prolonged periods of time observing, those narrow eyes fixated on your form as you hum and stretch after sitting a while at your desk, allowing the middle blocker to analyze the way your face scrunches up momentarily, how your shirt jumps up to expose a line of midriff above the hemline of your sweatpants, how you sigh and make a noise much too provocative for him to handle innocently.
(He’s gulping harshly, his fingers twitching and his knees feeling oddly weak as he relives memories of you way you gasp and cry out when you’re touching yourself, how your lips part into that pretty ‘o’ and your thighs twitch).
It’s more effective as he gets to watch the way you put together meals for yourself, leftovers from the night before and freezer-bake food items, quick and easy things that part of him wants to split with you (maybe, as you slice up the freshly oven-cooked frozen pizza, he could even feed a piece to you and tease you for having melted cheese on your cheek), while the other part wants to scold you for eating food that doesn’t benefit you much nutritionally.
He feels connected to you like this, like you’re really getting to spend time with one another, like you’re in your own little world and inviting him into your life, into you. It’s sweet, in a way, which is why Rintarou feels the need to document each little moment that has his heart clamoring in his chest, his throat feeling dry and his stomach fluttery.
His phone is always on standby, a huge portion of his camera roll devoted to videos and pictures of you living your life, doing domestic things that have him softly sighing and imagining the way you’d welcome him home after a long practice, how you’d get on your tip toes to press a peck against his lips, how you’d scrub the loofah along his chest when you shower together.
It’s sweet and whimsical, in a way, and while he’s careful to never have the flash on or make a noise, his collection of memories of you span to capture everything – you brushing your teeth, folding laundry, scribbling math equations, scrolling through your phone, using the restroom, sleeping and rolling over with a soft huff.
You’re just adorable, beautiful and wonderful and everything that Rintarou could hope for, and so while he doesn’t particularly like the fact that he doesn’t interact with you as much as he could, he’s satisfied – after all, watching you through your bedroom window is more intimate than talking about your day, right?
Listening to the way you talk to yourself as you work through the complicated work problems (thanks to the bugs he places in your room) is more personal than asking you if you’d like to come to his next volleyball game, right?
Rintarou thinks so, and with each new expression and reaction you make to the things around you (sometimes he’ll even fabricate a situation to examine your response to – nothing big, maybe leaving a small sign that he’d been in your room earlier, or leaving the door unlocked, or leaving the TV running), he learns more and more about you.
He’s good at reading people, and you’re his biggest challenge yet – and truly, he wants to know everything about you, to learn what makes you tick, what scares you, what makes you so happy you’re in tears.
You’re a mystery to him, but one he oh so desperately wants to solve – so try to ignore the feeling of those sharp eyes on you, yeah?
It’s just done out of love, so what is there to fear?
Selfless
Where your happiness is concerned, a lot of Rintarou’s more emotional tendencies come out. He lives to see you smile, as seeing you beam or giggle or stubbornly snort makes his heart practically beat out of his chest, the sound and sight addicting in a way he knows he’ll never be able to quit.
He’s normally not the most motivated, someone who puts in minimal effort unless he’s inspired, but his determination to get you smiling and happy is really quite something, really quite overwhelming –
Frankly, he’s desperate to be the cause of your happiness, to know that he’s the one who’s responsible for making your face light up, that he’s the one that turned your shit day into a decent, enjoyable one. It’s a boost to his ego, and it makes him feel a bit better about the whole stalking thing, the obsession thing, the way he’s latched onto you without any hope of ever letting go.
The knowledge makes him proud, has him feeling like a partner, like someone who can truly love you and care for you, but the thing that sets Rintarou apart is that he doesn’t particularly want you to know that he’s the one responsible, that the reason why you're doing so well in university or your job is all him.
It’s not that he doesn’t want the credit (because god, just the thought of you smiling up at him and hugging him, telling him you’re so thankful and happy for him and maybe even rewarding him with a kiss is enough to get his Adam’s apple sharply bobbing, his eyes darting around the room and his fist clenching), but the reason that he keeps his acts of service regarding you more on the down-low has to do with the way he doesn’t like to bring attention to himself.
Obviously, your attention and time and care are things he craves like a drug, but there’s still a certain amount of slight insecurity that washes through him as his thoughts overwhelm him, the possibility of you being creeped out by just how often and thoroughly he helps you out hitting him square in the chest.
The last thing he wants to do is alienate himself, to get you feeling uncomfortable around him, to make you scared of him, hence why he decides it’s better to stay in the dark than have your lovely warmth and radiance no longer be partially directed towards him.
And while the acts of service start small towards the beginnings of his obsession with you, with time they grow more elaborate and more invasive.
In the beginning, Rintarou is doing things out of the kindness of his heart; you’re looking a bit down, more stressed than normal? He’s quick to run to the store and buy your favorite snacks, making up some excuse to leave them on your desk before your classes or shift starts, so that once you walk in you’re met with a pleasant surprise and a short but sweet note from an anonymous sender.
(Writing the notes always feels so cliché, but Rintarou finds that once he sits down with the pen and paper, the words just keep coming – obviously he can only write so much without giving away the depth and extent of his infatuation, so the letters get stored in his desk while the more simple you look tired, try to sleep more and take some time for yourself get attached to the goodies).
In the beginning, it’s Rintarou still having a strange internal battle about whether or not he should be going out of his way to help you, but always finding himself unconsciously moving to make sure that your bag doesn’t touch the area of the school carpet with the mysterious stain, that your food doesn’t get accidentally contaminated by anyone else’s germs. He's moving to make sure that you’re still smiling and happy, because while you’re still beyond gorgeous with a frown etched into your features, it’s nothing compared to that flustered little smile, the bashful crinkle of your nose, the way your eyes flutter.
It’s simple in the beginning, and he swears it’s innocent – until suddenly, he’s finding himself slipping further and further into the odd, self-induced responsibility of making sure your life is as easy as possible. Instead of simply double checking that your laundry is done before you get home, he's doing basketfuls, bringing his very own laundry detergent - it smells like him, and while you don't seem to notice the change in scent yet, he's hoping some part of your subconscious will enjoy the smell and associate it with him. Maybe you'll even have little, embarrassing fantasies about him as a househusband - something that isn't entirely off the table, if he's being completely honest.
What starts as him leaving you little snacks (mostly comprised of chuupets of his favorite flavor, if only because it seems weirdly intimate to be sharing something like that with you) to keep you pleasantly surprised turns into him reluctantly and nonchalantly begging Osamu to teach him to cook, leaving you anonymous bentos with your favorite foods and cute little drawings that always make you smile and get embarrassed, your friends hovering and bombarding you with questions about your secret admirer.
(And of course, you always leave the box pristine, with the chopsticks neatly stacked on top at the corner of your desk for the owner to reclaim, and while Rintarou isn’t proud of the way he spends hours sucking on the used chopsticks, tongue sucking and sliding over the metal to taste every possible piece of you he can, he’s not disgusted enough with himself to stop.)
What starts as him simply trying to make you less stressed and your life easier slowly turns into him breaking into your home to complete your chores, to tidy up your room, to sift through your closet and replace your old, used panties with brand new pairs in colors and shades he thinks you’ll love and that he fantasizes about them so much that he has his own matching, identical pair who’s sole purpose is to absorb every drop of cum he wrings out just for you you you –
He becomes your lapdog, in a way, though you won’t know it – frankly, you’ll know something is going on, but why would you ever suspect snarky, introverted Rintarou?
Why would he ever go out of his way for you, do anything so time consuming for you?
You’ll push aside the nagging feeling, trying to play it off as you being overly aware, but once Rintarou has you locked into his basement, your favorite foods and items surrounding you like a strange sort of offering, his narrow yellow eyes lighting up at the mere opportunity to make you smile and thank him?
Well, it gets more difficult once you’re able to see just how pathetically desperate Rintarou is – but really, can he be blamed?
Can he be blamed for wanting to make you happy?
DEALING WITH RIVALS:
Despite having adopted the ‘cool boy’ guise for as long as anyone can remember, Rintarou is very much not ‘cool’ when he’s placed into situations where you’re being chased by another man.
He absolutely detests the prospect of another man trying anything at all with you – he’s not horribly delusional, but he still thinks of you as solely his, just as he is solely yours.
And so, the moment that this notion is challenged, Rintarou is suddenly shutting down a bit, his heart racing in his chest and his veins feeling like they’re on fire because who the hell is trying to steal you away from him?
He’s got a bit of a possessive streak, and so he’s actually quite used to being jealous because of you.
He knows he’s not the most social or outgoing guy, and as a result you’ll often end up in conversations with people that aren’t him, no matter how badly he wishes it weren’t true.
It’s too scary sometimes to simply walk up to you and begin chatting, but for other men this doesn’t seem to be an issue – and so, often when Rintarou is jealous, it’s a combination of being both jealous of how you’re responding to this man’s flirtations, along with frustration at himself for not being man enough to just fucking talk to you.
He’s terrified you’ll find someone you like more – maybe he’ll be funnier, nicer, better at compliments, able to get you laughing in the blink of an eye. Maybe he’ll be bulkier, have a better fashion sense, have soft, curly hair instead of the somewhat wiry brown locks he’s always been stuck with.
Insecurities get the best of Rintarou when he’s faced someone challenging his spot in your life, and while you may never know, he’s absolutely enraged when he sees others interacting with you.
He isn’t the most bold yandere, and so while he rarely ever directly interferes, those golden eyes will be watching you constantly when you’ve captured another man’s attention.
He’s watching like a hawk, trying to read your every movement, expression and word, hoping and praying he’ll find some sign that you aren’t reciprocating the man’s attraction.
He’s still too nervous to actually confess the horribly strong feelings in his heart about you, and so he’ll try to work himself into finding flaws in the way you’re interacting with whoever is trying to steal your attention – you never laugh that hard at puns, so obviously you must be faking it.
You’re never this kind and pleasant towards people you actually like, so you must be sugar coating your words in an effort to remain strangers.
You wouldn’t be smiling apologetically and telling him you’ve got to get running if you actually wanted to stay and talk to him. He can see it all on your face, plain as day – and that’s part of why Rintarou loves you. You’re just so easy to read and analyze, and yet every day he finds new layers to you that he just falls more and more in love with.
You’re perfect, which is why it’s so much harder than he can handle to watch you interact with other men. It physically hurts, his chest aching and his muscles tensing to the point of cramping as he stares holes into the both of your bodies, watching and waiting with baited breath for you to get the fuck away, preferably into Rintarou’s arms.
And so, while he’s familiar with the jealousy that seeing you with other guys brings, he’s never, ever been good at dealing with it – something you’ll learn fairly quickly.
Rintarou’s eye twitches as he watches the way the stranger’s form slowly comes closer to the both of yours. It’s a train platform – he knows that, rationally, you’ll be standing next to strangers, men, people with intentions that could be nefarious towards a cute thing like you.
He’s not being paranoid by thinking that those standing around you aren’t good people – he’s just being realistic. He knows from experience with his own sister and female friends that men are horrible, invasive, creepy, violent, dangerous, and he doesn’t think it’s so bold of him to say that his concern for you is well-placed.
At least, his concern about your danger – his brows furrow a bit as the man beside you reaches into his pocket for something, and every muscle in Rintarou’s body tenses as he stiffens up against the wall of the platform he’s leaning against, some ten feet away.
His whole body is prepared, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice on the off chance the man pulls a knife or camera or something bad –
Your pretty voice cuts off any panicked thoughts racing through the brunette’s head, your words startling him. Is that a charm on your phone case? I love that character! Is he your favorite from the show?
Rintarou’s defenses relax slightly, but at the pleasantly shocked expression on the man’s face, he’s immediately tensing up again.
However, as the man responds with a modest affirmation, Rintarou finds himself tense for an entirely different reason – you’re smiling at this man, chatting with him of your own volition.
There’s a gold watch sitting on the man’s wrist, and with a downturning of the blocker’s lips, he notices that the man’s white dress shirt is perfectly pressed, his sleek navy dress pants following suit. His hair is neatly combed back, perfectly messy, and his features are attractive as he smiles down at you. Rintarou’s stomach turns, nausea settling in his gut.
Fuck.
His own boring brown sweatshirt and cream cargo pants look stupid in comparison to this man’s professional, clean appearance – and maybe you’d like that more?
Maybe you’re interested in men with real jobs, not just a sport.
Maybe you’re interested in men that attend business meetings, have clients, have framed degrees sitting on the walls of their offices. Rintarou bites his lip, his teeth threatening to break the skin as his fingernails dig into his palms.
Fuck.
It’s torture, watching as you converse with the man, the train taking forever to arrive – the conversation turns to other shows the both of you watch, and while Rintarou is pleased to learn you don’t have many others in common, it doesn’t stop the way his throat is drying up, his tongue feeling heavy.
He’s sweating underneath his clothes despite the cold air of the train platform, and with growing worry he watches the way the man takes a step closer to you, showing you some photo of a stupid animated character on his phone and god, Rintarou’s gonna be sick, how do you look like such a good physical match fuck fuck fuck –
He stands up stick straight as the man’s arm comes around to wrap lightly around your shoulder, the side smile he sends you as you look at his phone making Rintarou’s veins alight with fire because how fucking dare he?
He’s just touched you, without your invitation or permission, and it seems you’ve noticed this too – you immediately stiffen up and shuffle back, shaking off his arm and sending him a very obviously uncomfortable look.
The man falters slightly, the smile threatening to slip off his face, but at your curt I just realized I’m on the wrong train, it disappears entirely.
Internally, Rintarou debates his next course of action – you’re hurriedly speed-walking away, making a point to keep your head down and shuffling through the crowds of people that have gathered (distantly, he hears the chimes of the train arriving). Should he follow you, or should he sock that creep in the face?
The man touched you without your permission, made you obviously feel scared and uncomfortable, and that’s utterly unacceptable. Rintarou may be somewhat physically pacifistic, but he will not stand for anything attempting to infringe on your personal space.
You’re his girl, and he’ll let no one make you scared or make you cry – speaking of which, as you quickly pass by him, the brunette spots your eyes reddening, your sniffling alerting him that fuck, you’re about to cry.
His decision is immediately made, and as he follows you up the heavily packed flight of stairs, it’s all too easy to get around and ahead of you, making sure you don’t notice him as he uses his athletic abilities to wait at the top of the stairs.
It’s easy to pretend to bump into you, his hands steadying your shoulders as you squeak out an apology, your eyes widening as you recognize him. And as you utter the small R-rin, he feels his heart break.
You’re his, dammit, and he won’t let some well-dressed, sleazy business man treat you like some common whore – the coffee shop he takes you to has your favorite drink and he knows it, and as you sip on the warm beverage he bought for you, Rintarou feels his heart finally calm.
You don’t want that stranger – you want him, otherwise why would you let him be so familiar and caring towards you? Maybe you’re finally starting to love him, too.
TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:
For Rintarou, he genuinely wants your relationship to be as close to normal as possible.
He wants the two of you to fall in love, date, get married, have a family and grow old with each other, and he knows that kidnapping isn’t exactly the most conventional method of doing this.
He’s more than aware that if he were to steal you away and forcefully relocate you by his side, you’d probably be less than pleased. You’d probably be afraid of him, hate him, want either him or yourself to be dead, and just the thought of that honestly breaks Rintarou’s heart.
He hates the prospect of you being displeased with him; he lives to please you, his every thought revolving around seeing you smile and hearing your pretty voice whisper that you love him, and if you were trapped under his roof, would you ever smile again?
Would you ever make (adorably) stupid jokes that get Rintarou’s eyes rolling and his heart pumping out of his chest?
Would you let him brush his hand against yours, fingers reaching out just slightly in the barest hint of attempting to interlock your fingers?
He knows the answer, of course: no, you wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t expect you to. He wants you to love him, not placate him by pretending to be in love.
Of course, he can’t deny that the idea of keeping you with him at all times, dependent and paying attention only to him is really quite appealing.
There’s something beautiful about the idea of you always being there when he needs you to be; your pretty face always available for him to reach out and cup, your cheeks in his hands as you stare up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted slightly as you whisper his name.
There’s something incredibly enticing about the prospect of bringing home takeout for the both of you (maybe he can even commission Osamu to give him a discount at Onigiri Miya – he’s not holding his breath), your eyes lighting up as you see the door open, quickly throwing your arms around his shoulders and peppering his face with kisses as you tell him thank you, this was exactly what I wanted!
There’s aspects about kidnapping you that are so, so wonderful, but it would take quite a bit for him to actually steal you away. As a result, he’ll push off the intense urge to just wrap you in his arms and keep you there forever for as long as he possibly can - that is, until something happens that pushes him to the limit.
Say, for example, you develop a liking for another man - given how Rintarou’s eyes are on you at almost every moment of the day, he’ll notice the way you start staring, leaving lingering glances at a certain someone, how your voice gets higher and you clean up your appearance when they walk by.
It hurts, and he can only take so much of you fawning over another man before he snaps - and so, he’ll be climbing into your room in the wee hours of the morning, pausing for a moment to stare down lovingly at your sleeping form, a heavy blush and gentle smile playing on his features while he caresses your hair.
He’ll cover your nose and mouth gently with the chloroform soaked rag, before he’s lifting you into his arms and leaving, marveling at how your body fits perfectly against his own. In that moment, he’s absolutely sure that it’s the right decision to steal you away - after all, the two of you are just so fucking perfect for one another.
Plus, if he acts correctly, you’re bound to fall for him – Stockholm Syndrome, even if it takes a while.
Right?
As a captor, Rintarou isn’t terrible - he’s still very quiet, but he’s attentive to your needs, almost so much so that it’ll scare you.
He always seems to know what you need or want before you do – almost like he can read your mind, which you’re almost convinced he can. Those narrow eyes will watch you as you bite your lip and contemplate, practically seeing the gears turning in your head as he simply stares from across the room.
He’ll be by your side with a glass of water before you even realize you’re thirsty, telling you to drink it all, you’ll get dehydrated if you don’t.
He’s giving you an extra hoodie before you even register that you’re cold, nimble fingers trembling slightly as they brush against the soft skin of your shoulders, brushing aside your hair so that the hood rests comfortably against your neck.
He knows you like the back of his hand, and it really shows once you’re under his control. And while it may be disorienting and creepy that he seems to know everything about you, even things you’re absolutely sure you’ve never told another soul, somewhere in the back of your mind you’ll slowly begin getting more fond of the middle blocker.
Slowly, you’ll start warming up to him, his monotone voice and blank looks growing on you the longer you’re trapped with him. Because really, while he kidnapped you, he’s not that bad – you could be dead and tied up in a ditch somewhere if it had been someone else to break into your home that night.
You could be gagged and tied to a post, your body violated and abused to the point of nearly dying if it wasn’t Rintarou that developed an obsession with you.
He could be much, much worse - he doesn’t lay a hand against you, and while he may force you to cuddle with him, eventually your hatred for him will lose against the overwhelming need for human contact and affection - something that he is more than willing to give you.
Honestly, you’ll be scared of the middle blocker and his vast knowledge on you, but the more you find yourself wrapped up in his arms and resting against his warm chest while he whispers sweet compliments and words of love in your ears, you’ll grow less and less scared and more and more happy to be with him.
Because when he’s promising you the world, telling you he’ll give you anything and everything you could ever want (besides your freedom, of course), you’ll never feel more desired, valued or cared for. You’ll discover a few weeks into your captivity that he desperately, desperately craves physical contact with you.
There’s a reason all his touches are light and gentle, his fingers almost afraid to touch you, and the first time you let him hold your hand or hug you you’ll understand why immediately – and how can you not?
How can you not realize the depth with which he's wanted to hold you when you feel the tear drip onto your shoulder from his cheek the first time he caresses you against his chest?
How can you not be aware that he’s wanted to horribly to kiss you when he lets out the most wanton, pathetic moan you’ve ever heard the first time you place a kiss against his cheek?
And although it’s fucked up, you’ll come to enjoy the way Rintarou is so dependent on you, the way he’s so clearly gone out of his way to make sure that you stay with him, and you’ll grow to be just as in love as he is - Stockholm Syndrome will set in, and really Rintarou couldn’t be happier.
Because when you’re telling him you love him back, cuddling him with your own free will, kissing him and running your hands over his body, he thinks that there’s nothing in the world better than this. Even if he did have to unfortunately kidnap you, it was all worth it; because now, the two of you can live out the future he’d always hoped you’d have.
PUNISHMENTS:
Similarly to his reluctance to kidnap you, Rintarou absolutely does not want to punish you in any way, shape, or form.
The possibility of hurting you makes him physically ill, whether it be emotionally, mentally, or physically. He can’t rationalize the idea of hurting you simply to prove a point to you – he’d be a monster to do that, right?
He’s already gone too far by kidnapping you, so he’s extremely reluctant to undergo any sort of discipline towards you. Frankly, the punishment would hurt him more than it would hurt you – he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror for days, instead only seeing flashes behind his eyelids of the way you’d cry and beg him to stop, your broken sobs and pleas haunting his nightmares.
He doesn’t think he’d be able to physically do it, anyways – he’d have to quit halfway through, his nose tingling as tears threaten to slip down his cheeks while he sprints out of the room. He’d have to compose himself, to put on a mask and pretend to be someone he’s not; he’d have to pretend to be someone who enjoys seeing you in pain, who likes to see you upset and sad, as if he doesn’t live for you laughter, smiles and loving touches.
The whole concept is just too much for him – however, that isn’t to say that Rintarou is entirely lenient. He’s forgiving as far as captors go; it takes quite a bit to upset him, and while he’s always silently disappointed when you refuse to hug him or acknowledge his presence and words, he’s not driven to the point of abusing you.
He’ll just stare at you with that same impassive gaze he always seems to have, though if you look closely you’ll see the way his brows are tilted upwards in the middle, his lips parted slightly, devastation plain as day in those calculating eyes.
He doesn’t get mad at you when you lash out at him – he doesn’t enjoy when you hit him, swinging your arms wildly as you cry and plea with him to let you go, but he’ll just let you smack him, maybe dodging a few swings before ultimately deciding he deserves this, you should be punishing him for his wrongdoings.
He doesn’t even get mad when you try to escape – he understands why, even if it hurts him. He’s always plagued by doubts when you attempt these escapes, though; wondering what he can do to make you happier, if he can make you happier. He’s wondering how to get your old personality back, because this new somewhat shell of yourself isn’t the woman he fell in love with and he’s scared that if he doesn’t get you back now, you may be gone forever because of him.
He doesn’t even get mad when you lash out and tell him that you hate him, that he’s despicable and a terrible person! I wish I’d never met you, I wish I’d met a normal man who wasn’t a pervert psychopath!
Your insults hurt, of course, but Rintarou has tough (ish) skin when it comes to you – he’ll maintain his composure, trying to not let his voice waver as he insists you eat the food, please, you need to.
It hurts so fucking bad, but he can take it – however, the one thing he can’t take is when you say you don’t need him.
It’s his selfless tendencies, really, that make this very specific attack so hurtful and dangerous for him. It’s the months and months of trying to make your life easier by doing your daily tasks for you that make him snap, his jaw clenching so tightly you can see it, his hands shaking as rage rolls through him. It’s the only situation in which he’ll genuinely feel enraged at you – how dare you?
He’s spent countless thousands of hours trying to help make you happy and save you work, and this is how you repay him? Ungrateful, even if you didn’t ask for his help.
Even if you didn’t want it. It strikes a chord within him, and as you whisper the words while you shrink away from him at the dinner table, Rintarou drops his utensils against the ceramic, making a noise much too loud in his silent condo.
He’ll stare at you, a thousands emotions flitting through his eyes, and for a moment you feel genuine, unbridled fear – he’s never looked at you so shocked, with so much visible emotion on his face.
He’s never uttered out the words he speaks in that moment – get up. You’re coming with me.
You’ll be scared, shaking your head and trying to backtrack from what you said because there’s something about this new side of Rintarou that’s making your heart race, that’s making goosebumps appear on the back of your neck and down your spine.
Rintarou feels a flash of guilt at the way you’re cowering away from him, your pretty face all twisted up and fear and confusion, but your words keep ringing through his head.
I don’t need you. I don’t need you. I don’t need you.
It drives his legs to move, his arms reaching out and lifting you up, despite your pleas and attempts to wiggle out of his grasp. He’s always been strong, and no matter your weight he's carrying you down the stairs, listening with a heavy heart as you start to cry, shaking in his hold as you slowly give up on fighting.
He carefully sets you down on the sofa in the basement, the small space only furnished with said sofa, a chair, a TV (that has been locked with a password only Rintarou knows), and a bathroom with a sink that only ever spouts cold water.
With a heavy sigh, Rintarou looks at your quivering form and reaches above you to grab the stringy blanket he keeps draped over the couch, noticing your confusion as you watch.
This hurts to do, really – he’s already feeling the guilt as he moves towards the door separating the basement from the stairway up to the rest of the condo, a frown on his face and his eyes softening. You do need me, he says softly, almost hesitantly, before closing the door, seeing your panicked face staring at him from the couch.
The thermostat is right outside the doorway, and with a heavy heart he’s turning the settings down, applying the air conditioning at such an extreme level that he’s worried for a moment you’ll freeze to death.
He hadn’t wanted to do this, truly – keeping the basement freezing cold while stripping you away from any source of warmth hadn’t been his most pleasant idea, but it was the most useful.
You need to understand that you need him – he’s taking care of you, and he's been taking care of you for much longer than you know.
You need to understand that you must rely on him – he’s your protector, and while he’d never enjoy hurting you, as he continues to turn the settings down until the sliver of cold air from underneath the doorframe touches his toes, his resolve slowly weakens.
He can hear you crying now – it’s been a good fifteen minutes, surely long enough for you to notice the dropping temperature, and he can hear your pleas of his name to let you out.
You must be cold – you’d been wearing only his t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts, hardly the clothing for nearing freezing temperatures.
He stands outside the doorway for the whole thirty minutes he leaves you in there, a silent tear trail running down his cheeks, his heart aching as he forces himself to wait just one more minute, so that you can understand that he’s serious.
He needs you to realize he’s not joking; you do need him, and as he exhales sharply and raises the heat up, swinging open the door, he nearly gasps at the cold temperature of the room.
He’s quick to dart in and find you, who’d moved to try and wrap yourself with the couch cushions, only to find their flimsy, cheap quality did next to nothing to insulate you.
You’re shaking, your jaw clattering as your eyes slowly move to his, and for a horrible, horrible moment Rintarou wonders if you’re going to die – you look frozen, as if hypothermia had already claimed your life. But then you shakily, hoarsely whisper out his name.
He lets out a near-sob of relief and scoops you into his arms, the guilt weighing even more heavily on his heart because he did this to you. He’s sprinting up the stairs with you, wrapping you up in the mountain of blankets and pillows he’d prepared, wiping away the nearly frozen tears on your cheeks as he coos your name.
You snuggle further into him, desperately seeking his warmth, and as the both of you lay on his bed, Rintarou can only pull you closer to his chest, letting his tears flow freely now, his lips moving as well.
Please, please don’t ever say that again, please understand that you need me and I need you. Please. Tell me you understand me.
And when you shakily whisper out that you do, you’ll find that you actually mean it – because if he’d left you in there longer, maybe you would’ve died.
He’d never let you actually pass, but still – maybe it’s best to just listen to what he says, yeah?
And as you slip into a dreamless slumber, you find yourself settling into his embrace, deciding that yes, you’re nothing without him.
OVERALL DANGER:
4/10
In general, Rintarou is much more of a hovering love struck fool rather than a genuinely dangerous man.
Of course, he’s constantly watching you, following you home and observing your every move, but he honestly has no ill intent.
He doesn’t want to hurt you, to play with you or cause you any kind of negative emotion; you mean the absolute world to the middle blocker, and he’s waited all these years for the one to show up. And now that you have, he’ll do everything in his power to keep you with him, to keep you loving and happy and dependent on him.
He wants the two of you to have a flawless relationship, and although it’s obviously not the case considering the fact that he knows the location of each and every mole on your body before he’s even held your hand, he wants to get it as close to the real deal as possible.
He wants you to love him and want him, and while his methods aren’t ideal, Rintarou is determined.
He’s your silent shadow, doing you favors without expecting anything in return and keeping track of your whereabouts. He’s making sure you get home safe everyday without a hair touched on your pretty head, those narrow eyes watching you and everyone around you’s every move.
And at some point, his soft touches and thoughtful gestures will get to you - after all, wouldn’t it just be so much easier to give in? To give him the love and life that he wants?
You’ll convince yourself that he isn’t that bad, that he’s just blinded by love and his desire for you. And although it’s wrong, you’ll grow flattered by his devotion, and you’ll come to love him as well - and really, Rintarou couldn’t be happier.
You’re his dream, and he’ll never give up on you.
315 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let Them Talk
Pairing: Arlecchino x Furina
Tags: Party, Dancing, Slow Dancing, Ballroom Dancing, Cake, Vaginal Fingering, Love Bites
Summary:
Neuvillette is throwing a ball to recognize Furina's contributions to the Nation of Justice and there's only one requirement: The former hydro archon needs a dance partner. With so many big names already taken, who will she choose?
Read on Ao3
“…and that is why I am holding a ball in your honor, Lady Furina.”
The former archon blinked, unsure she had just heard Neuvillette correctly.
“Haha…I’m sorry, what? Monsieur Neuvillette, are you not aware I’m no longer the archon of this nation? Why ever would you do such a silly thing?”
Upon being freed of her role as archon, Furina had tried to live a quiet life. She no longer yearned for the spotlight, and the iudex of all people should have known this. The last thing she wanted was to have to attend an event where she’d be the center of attention.
“It’s really not necessary. I’ve played my role and now all I want”
“I’ll hear none of it, Lady Furina. You’ve dedicated your entire existence to the people of Fontaine. Now, it’s our turn to thank and celebrate you,” he interrupted. “Oh…and did I mention there will be cakes from all over Teyvat imported for the event?”
The former archon’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“As much as you can eat. But be careful not to overindulge. You’ll need to be able to dance.”
She looked at him skeptically. “With you?”
“Ha! Goodness, no. I’m already spoken for. The event won’t be held for another few weeks. I suspect you’ll find someone who’ll be more than willing. Pick out a dress from Chioriya Boutique - my treat. Tell her to send the bill directly to me.”
————————
Furina spent the next few days in her apartment mulling over possible partners, growing wearier with each impossible choice.
Navia and Clorinde will undoubtedly attend together. That’s a no-brainer. Chiori is always in that on-again, off-again fling with Chevreuse. Charlotte seems to be getting closer to Lynette…I’m running out of options…
And that’s when it hit her. She was a new woman, no longer held down by the shackles of what the citizens would think. Free to do whatever she pleased, and to pursue whoever she found interesting. Her self-esteem had been lower than ever after losing her lofty position, but as the days went on, she found herself adopting a more daring attitude.
She knew exactly who she’d ask to be her date.
——————-
“I must admit, Lady Furina, I’m a little perplexed as to why you’d choose me, of all people.”
The Knave sat across from her at the small dining room table, sipping tea the girl had prepared especially for this occasion.
“Lady Arlecchino, I realize we’ve had our own little…misunderstandings in the past. But now that you know the whole story - my story - I hope you’ll forgive me for bending the truth in our previous discussions.”
The woman shrugged. “Water under the bridge. What’s done is done, and life moves on whether we want to or not.”
“I’m happy to hear you see it that way. So? What do you say? Will you be my partner for the event?”
The harbinger’s index finger circled the edge of the cup as she contemplated the invitation. “I’m hesitant for one reason only - I can’t imagine being seen with me will do your reputation any favors. Why me?”
Furina had been ready for this question. “I’ve spent my entire life caring about what the public thought about me. Frankly, after 500 years of watching my back, I’m exhausted. At one point, you used to frighten me. Now, what have I to fear? You’re the only one who ever dared to stand up to me and speak your mind. I find that…enticing.”
Arlecchino cocked her head to the side as she gave her reasoning some thought. “Fair point. I’ll collect you at eight on the night of the event. Don’t keep me waiting.”
———————
The dazzling aquamarine dress she’d picked out from Chioriya Boutique fit her surprisingly well. It hugged her petite frame perfectly, accentuating her feminine qualities without being overly revealing.
A knock came at her door at eight o’clock sharp. She took a deep breath and grabbed the handle.
The former archon was incapable of speech at the sight of her partner. The Knave looked striking in her flawlessly tailored tuxedo, accented with a blood-red vest and pocket square. The harbinger looked her date up and down, a smile slowly creeping across her face.
“Good evening, Lady Furina. I trust you’re ready?”
“Y-yes…ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” she murmured as she took her hand and left her apartment.
—————————-
Neuvillette’s voice boomed as soon as the couple walked through the threshold of the Palais Mermonia. The administrative building had been beautifully decorated, no doubt with the help of Sigewinne and Wriothesley, who stood at the iudex’s side.
Ah, so that’s what he meant when he said he was spoken for. Good for them.
“Mesdames et Messieurs,” he began. “I’d like to welcome our guest of honor - Lady Furina, who is accompanied tonight by Lady Arlecchino, head of Fontaine’s own House of the Hearth.”
A hush fell over the crowd. It was clear the audience was in shock. Citizens turned to each other, obviously whispering their thoughts to those they came with. Desperate to divert their attention, Neuvillette cleared his throat loudly.
“Lady Furina, this night is for you - for your service to the Nation of Justice, I, and everyone here, express our sincerest gratitude for your tireless work and sacrifice.”
The crowd snapped out of their trance and erupted in applause. Furina smiled brightly, grateful he had changed the subject.
“Thank you, thank you, all! It has been the greatest honor of my life to serve you. But enough of the formalities. It’s time to party! What’s the saying? Ah, yes. Let them eat cake!”
A chorus of laughter relieved her nerves and made her feel much more comfortable. After greeting some familiar Fontainian faces, the former archon headed straight for the dessert table. She sampled a variety of sweets and was thankful she hadn’t fought Neuvillette about hosting the event.
The band playing in the background shifted from upbeat party music to something slower and more intimate. Arlecchino suddenly extended her hand. “May I have this dance?”
Furina smiled softly at her as she took it. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”
Making their way to the floor, she quickly glanced around and noticed the other couples were much more engrossed in each other than watching her every move. She could feel her shoulders relax as the harbinger took her in her arms.
It felt…nice. Although the woman was fierce in both battle and politics, seeing this side of her actually drew Furina in more. Being this close to her - smelling the musk of her perfume, feeling the warmth of her body held closely against her own - made her start to think there might be more to this than just a desire to not attend the event alone.
“Something on your mind, droplet?” She asked as she swayed them both back and forth.
The former archon blushed at the strange but fitting term of endearment. “Oh…nothing. I was just…thinking about how delicious the cake was, is all.” The Knave chuckled at her answer.
“Remind me to never deny you your sweets.”
Perhaps it was a sugar rush or maybe the two and a half glasses of fine Mondstadt Dandelion Wine she had downed, but the girl was feeling bold. Standing on the balls of her feet, she got as close to the other woman’s ear as possible. “Then I ask you not to deny me the chance to partake of something even sweeter. I’m going to head up to what used to be my office here. Wait about fifteen minutes and then come find me.”
The song came to an end, and the former archon excused herself, leaving a very confused Arlecchino in her wake.
The scenarios that had crossed the harbinger’s mind as she walked to the second floor could not have prepared her for what she found waiting for her.
“That was closer to twenty minutes, but I’ll forgive you,” Furina teased as she greeted her from the large plush couch toward the back of the room. She had shed her dress and was wearing nothing but a sapphire set of lingerie that left little to the imagination.
“You naughty little thing. You had this planned the whole time, didn’t you?” Arlecchino approached with a look in her eyes that betrayed the fact she was about to devour her.
“Hmm…Chiori did say I’d be impossible to resist if I wore this. And here I was thinking she was just trying to make an easy sale.”
“Consider me sold.”
The Knave pounced, the arm of the sofa serving as a perfectly placed pillow for the woman now underneath her. Their mouths clashed, and Arlecchino could taste the saccharine remnants of rich frosting on her tongue.
Furina moaned, desperate to rid the other woman of her stuffy clothing. Her hands worked quickly to undo buttons and shove the remaining fabric off her body. The harbinger shivered at the feel of the former archon’s fingers against her skin.
Arlecchino palmed her lover’s breasts, relishing the sound she made and secretly hoping this wouldn’t be the first and only time they’d do this.
“I hate to cut this short, but we do have a party to get back to. Are you ready for me, dear?”
“Archons, yes…I’ve been ready since you came to pick me up tonight. How could I not be when you look that dashing?”
The Knave pulled her up and positioned her to straddle her. Yanking the crotch of her panties to the side, she expertly slid two fingers inside of her.
Furina’s head tilted back as she adjusted to the intrusion. “Ohhhhhh yessssss…”
Arlecchino latched onto her neck, the vibration of the girl’s moans tickling her lips. The former archon matched the thrust of her fingers as she grabbed the harbinger’s shoulders for support. Her hips rocked at just the right angle to stimulate her clit as she raced toward her climax.
“That’s right…come on my fingers…that’s a good girl…”
“Arle…fuck…oh…yessssss!”
The girl collapsed completely spent against her. The other woman rubbed her back in reassuring circles as she soothed her. When Furina finally got the strength to look up, she watched mesmerized as the Knave licked her fingers clean.
“Much sweeter than any piece of cake downstairs. I do suppose it’s time for us to make a reappearance, don’t you?”
“Not before I return the favor,” the former archon said before she started to unlatch Arlecchino’s belt.
“Archons, Furina, we’ve already been gone too long…”
“Oh, shut up and let me do this. How long could it take when I know you’re already wet for me?” Her hand slipped inside the harbinger’s slacks and Arlecchino let out a deep moan as she felt her fingers slide against her slick heat.
“Fuck…droplet…”
Furina felt the swollen bud against her fingertips and worked it slow and steady. The Knave gripped her hips to ensure her nails wouldn’t rip a hole in the expensive-looking couch they were seated on.
“I think you wanted this just as bad as I did. You can drop the frightening fatui harbinger front. Let me hear you whine and beg for me to make you come.”
“You’re diabolical…you know that?” The other woman panted as she felt the former archon increase her pressure and pace.
“Ah, ah, ah! That’s not what I wanted, Knave.
“Please…fuck, Furina, you’re driving me crazy…please let me come…”
Her fingers moved faster and Arlecchino’s breath came in short, breathless pants.
“Haa…haaa…archons…harder…oh FUCK!” She shouted as the girl finally let her have her orgasm.
The two sat against one another as they attempted to recover from the night’s excursions. When they caught their second wind, they stood and began to dress.
“Would you be a dear and get my zipper?” Furina asked. Arlecchino was happy to oblige. The former archon twitched as she felt her fingers brush the base of her neck.
“Um…droplet…you’re going to want to borrow my jacket. I may have…gotten a bit carried away.”
“What do you…oh my archons!” She turned scarlet as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. A very large bruise from a love bite at the base of her throat had started to turn a deep shade of purple. Before the woman could drape her blazer over her, Furina pushed it back toward her.
With a sly grin that would fit a harbinger rather than the leader of a nation, she said, “You know what? Let them talk.”
#fanfic#fanfiction#fic#wlw#hoyoverse#mihoyo#genshin#genshin impact#arlefuri#furina#focalors#focalor#arlecchino#harbinger#the knave#arlecchino x furina#furina x arlecchino#furinaxarlecchino#arlecchinoxfurina#dancing#fontaine#neuvillette#furina genshin#genshin furina#genshin arlecchino#arlecchino genshin
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
i should sleep but i need to talk about the skywalker family and their chromosomes
it starts out a little silly but i promise i get deadass once i start talking about luke and how he was born.
now, it all starts with anakin.
anakin had no father, his mother birthed him like he was jesus (jesus intersex representation?? 😨 that’s another story) and she could only give him X chromosomes. that means either anakin didn’t have chromosomes, he had two X chromosomes, or he had just one X chromosome. considering his mother birthing him and his fatherlessness (loser), it’s most likely that he had a single X chromosome. therefore he was intersex.
now he probably still had cock and balls (derogatory), otherwise he couldn’t have had kids with padme. if the jedi order had a sex ed class (they probably did tbh), then anakin would probably know or realize that he only had one X chromosome, and therefore he realized he’s intersex.
as much as i love the idea of non-binary anakin- let’s be real guys. anakin would be those types of dudes who, when asked what their pronouns are, would answer with “nor/mal”. people would mention his beauty or his feminine demeanor and he’d be like “i’m not gay”. or something like that. i’m projecting my homophobic brother’s personality onto him. they’re very similar and i’m not particularly fond of either of them. at least, not anakin in the prequel movies.
my big boy chad master anakin in the clone wars had ultimate lightskin rizz.
anyway so onto luke.
it gets serious here.
since anakin only had one X chromosome, and padme had XX, then both of them contributed an X chromosome to their children. they literally couldn’t be able to make a biological male child. if they did end up having a male child, they would either have to be also intersex, or trans.
leia and luke were both born with XX chromosomes.
“but olly! in the movies, they said luke was a boy when he was born!” ah wonderful observation, my silly little padawan.
obviously star wars “humans” aren’t clearly “humans”, rather aliens as well. so likely their biology might differ from irl. but if we were to ignore that and consider all the possibilities, we could come up with a logical explanation.
obviously the technology in the star wars universe is very advanced, at least more advanced than the options we have available. i think the topic of gender and sexuality isn’t even a real thing in the universe. gender is a social construct, right? and clearly with the different aliens, races, and religions in the universe, the discussion of what “gender” is wouldn’t technically apply anywhere because gender isn’t real.
back to the technology part- i’d like to think the universe at that time would be able to find out a child’s “gender” or orientation by examining their brain when they are born. according to this study by Dr. Julie Bakker in how trans peoples brains correspond with the gender they identify as, regardless of how they were born, it can be understood that even from a young age, trans people think and process the same way cis people would within their respective identity/gender.
i think it would make the most sense that when luke and leia were born, they were given brain scans or something of the sort to determine what their gender/identity would be, regardless of how they were biologically born.
therefore we get luke’s “gender reveal” in the movies, even though he was likely born as a biological female.
basically trans luke is canon, y’all are just cowards.
so the whole skywalker family only have X chromosomes. until we get to ben solo. because of Han’s Y chromosome, ben would’ve been born as a cis male (derogatory).
that’s why he became evil. it’s bc his whole family is trans and he was kicked out for being cis.
hope this made sense
#ty lio for endorsing my silliness and goofiness#i’m dead serious about this tho#star wars#star wars headcanons#would this be a headcanon?? if it’s technically true?#star wars shitpost#anakin skywalker#luke skywalker#leia organa#padme amidala#han solo#ben solo#kylo ren#trans luke skywalker#anakin skywalker is intersex you can’t change my mind#keeping up with the skywalkers#shmi skywalker#extra virgin olive oil#oil.
178 notes
·
View notes
Note
AITA for cooking non-kosher food on purpose so that my Jewish roommate can't eat any of it?
For reference we're all in our 20s, and all some level of neurodivergent.
So I live with a few other people, and for the most part it's been chill so far. The only real problem I've had is with one of my roommates, we'll call them C. C was very sheltered as a kid, and we helped him move in with us mostly so that we could help him get out of a bad situation. The trouble is that because of the aforementioned sheltering he has a very bad habit of stepping on people's toes. He's loud when other people are sleeping, he spent the better part of our first year living together trying to avoid paying for rent or utilities, and he tends to dominate a conversation whenever he joins by doing the typical "wait for you to finish so I can say what I care about" shtick.
Well, we've had a recurring problem with C being grabby about other people's food. When we first moved in together he was constantly taking other people's groceries and using them for himself without asking, and not just small stuff, but like using my noodles, my sauce, and my meat to make spaghetti or something of the like. We all buy groceries separately except for a few core things that we all use like milk, eggs, flour, etc, so he was basically taking this stuff for free.
None of us are wealthy, we're all working retail and food service jobs, so it's not like it was a small blow to be losing food like that.
Well we discussed that and he's stopped, thankfully, but now he tries to like...beg for scraps? If you cook ANYTHING or are even in the kitchen, he'll come around and ask if it's "just for you, or for everyone". Understandably, this gets very annoying. My thing is that if you want to eat food I've made, you should contribute. Either by helping pay for ingredients or doing the dishes, or something like that. Basically, if you want to eat, help out. C never wants to help out or contribute to ingredients. Plus, if you tell him no, he'll whine about it? Like if you say that he can't have some of whatever you're cooking he'll be like "That food smells so good, even though you won't let me have any."
On the other hand, I know that C doesn't have a lot of money, and I would never want anyone to go hungry. But he won't use the communal stuff to cook himself anything, he'll just complain about not having a lot of money. I've tried to yelp him get more hours at the job we share, but he's unwilling to work certain shifts so there's a limit on how much I can do.
Anyways, to get to the point, sometimes I make dishes specifically with pork or other non-kosher ingredients so that he won't be able to constantly ask for some. I would never intentionally let him eat anything non kosher, and label all the foods I make for everyone so that he can check the ingredients and see if it's something he can have. I just don't want to be a jerk I guess, because I know that the economy is god-awful and believe strongly in helping your fellow man.
So, AITA?
What are these acronyms?
112 notes
·
View notes