#he gives nothing but BITCH (derogatory)

[a-stars-art-blog]

BenBaro Tuesday!!! My beloved!

here’s them trying to kiss but being shy and awkward about it :]]]]

[jwnzlvr]

you… want to try what?

pairing : bf!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

summary : toji wants to piss in you, you can’t say no to him. that’s it.

wc : 1k

warnings : SMUT (mdni), piss, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), PISSING INSIDE, degradation (use of bitch, slut, just treating reader as less), pussy slapping, not proofread

notes : where would you people be without me? JOKINGIM JOKING anyways for the toji piss kink enthusiasts… this one’s for u fam 🙏🏻 also this is messy i am aware. in tired. im running on like four cups of coffee, four hours of sleep and a blueberry muffin. please enjoy.

of all the things your boyfriend wanted to try out with you, this was one of the ones you didn’t expect he’d actually want. you both sat on your shared couch, your eyes wide with toji’s latest request.

“you… want to try what?” you spoke slowly as to understand toji. he only clicked his tongue at you and crossed his arms over his chest. “why do i have to repeat myself?” he groaned out before continuing.

“i wanna try pissin’ in you. like you know when i cum in you? that but with piss.” you couldn’t help the way your jaw slowly opened at how casual he sounded about this. yeah, he definitely didn’t sound like he’d just asked for something anyone else would consider very fucking filthy. 

however, you weren’t anyone else. your interest peaked at his request. you were just as filthy as toji, you couldn’t even keep acting like you were shocked. “okay. when do you wanna try this?” you asked, dropping the whole shocked facade.

“right now.”

and that’s how you ended up on all fours, his cock pistoning in and out of you from behind. your hands gripped at the sheets while your moans were muffled by the pillows in your face.

toji had a satisfied smirk on his face as he saw how you fell apart for him. “what’s wrong, baby? this dick feel too good for you?” he’d almost snicker at you. you couldn’t even come up with a response for him. he was right, the dick did feel too good for you.

he gave a disapproving grunt at your lack of response. he moved one of his hand from your hips to your hair, tugging it to draw a small yelp out of you. “answer me, bitch. does this dick feel too good?” he borderline growled as his grip on your hair became tighter.

your head begins nodding against the pillows with loud moans interrupting your response. “yes! fuck- oh my god, toji!” his strong grip on your hair only made you more desperate for him. he gave a cocky grin at your answer. using his grip on your hair, he pulled you up to where your back was against his chest. his hips didn’t falter once during that movement.

“you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good. who owns you? who’s the only man who can fuck you this good? use that pretty little head to answer me.” his tone was derogatory. he spoke to you as if you were less than him. yet it turned you on even more.

you let out a loud whine before answering him. “you! ‘s you, toji… only you can fuck me this good.” you panted out, a moan being ripped from your throat. toji clicked his tongue approvingly. “that’s right, good girl. i knew you could answer me.” 

the way he was degrading you then switching to praising you like it was nothing was giving you extreme whiplash. you felt your high approaching, squeezing around toji. toji knew when you were about to cum. out of nowhere, his arm wrapped around your neck. he’d trapped you in a headlock.

“you gonna cum? you little slut, go ahead and cream my cock. i know you want to.” he had a sickening grin on his face. you let out choked gasps as you came around him, your whines and whimpers being distorted by the force around your neck. he groaned out loud as he came too, painting your walls white. even after he came, toji didn’t stop his thrusts. he wanted to make sure you both were overstimulated for this next part.

when he heard your little choked begs for him to stop, that it was starting to hurt, he knew it was time. he looked at your face. you were already looking lightheaded and on the verge of passing out on him. he suddenly stopped his sloppy thrusts and buried himself deep inside of you.

your eyebrows furrowed in question as to why he stopped. at least, until you finally felt it. toji looked at you with a maniacal grin. he was pissing in you. his lock on your head started to loosen just a little bit with each passing moment that he pissed inside of you. he eventually let go of your neck to fully indulge in the sensation.

toji groaned in pleasure at the feeling of letting go in your pussy. “fuck, you’re so fucking soft and warm. just made to take me. my dick, my cum, my piss. your pussy fucking loves me, doesn’t she?” his stream of piss was strong, hitting against your womb. you couldn’t help clenching on his cock as you felt fuller and fuller. 

he hissed at your grip on him, somehow pissing into you even harder. his piss began to dribble out of your hole and onto your sheets. you knew that’d be a pain in the ass to clean later that night. with each passing moment that toji pissed in you, you felt your high building up once again. you didn’t think him pissing in you would feel like heaven.

you crept your hand down to your clit and rubbed messy circles on it. you knew if you were fast enough that you’d cum just from him pissing inside of you. toji took notice of this and used one of his hands to take your hand away. his other hand came down to slap your pussy. you yelped and clenched on him, more piss flowing out of your full hole.

“did i tell you you could cum again? just finish takin’ my piss…” he’d groan out. by this point, his head was thrown back. everything just felt too good. his steady stream slowed into a dribble which ended in a few drops more. as soon as he was done, he pulled out of you. he watched in awe as his cum and piss gushed out of your clenching pussy only to drench your sheets.

he had a smirk on his face as he watched it all happen. he pressed a kiss against your neck. “thank you, baby… you did so fuckin’ good f’r me.” he praised you, his hands caressing your hips. you only turned and gave him a small glare.

“you’re cleaning all this shit up, do you understand?”

toji enthusiasts send asks or requests the brainrot is going crazy rn.

[zombie-bait]

Full Moon

Ok so I don’t normally post about Helluva Boss but the newest episode touched on an interesting concept I haven’t necessarily seen represented in media. Back when I was on Twitter (derogatory) a few years ago there was this now deleted viral thread where someone discussed how their struggles with mental health affected their relationship with their partner and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. 

This is such a good, short example of how anxiety and depression can play tricks on you. It becomes so easy to envision yourself as a nuisance, a constant burden to those closest to you because they cannot possibly genuinely enjoy your company, right? But in doing so you create this arbitrarily cruel version of the people you love, people who would otherwise never behave like this outside of your own mind.

It's mean. Because your mind wants to be mean to you under these circumstances. It wants to put everyone else's emotions and desires above yours, both in worthiness and validity. And that starts bleeding into your understanding of other people, especially those you care about.

Now. Helluva Boss.

"Can I get a fucking MINUTE to think after everything you put me through you pompous rich ASSHOLE? Treat me like one of your little butler imps, you can’t just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we’re smaller and not as important. Well I’m not letting you, BITCH! Let’s go!" - Blitz

I find it really interesting how Helluva Boss decided to approach this conflict between Stolas and Blitz. Obviously, the difference in power matters. It's the underlying tension of their entire relationship and their lives. Stolas is burdened by the mountain of expectations thrust upon him from a very young age while Blitz is constantly reminded that he can NEVER be part of that world, that he is "smaller and not as important" not just in Hell's hierarchy but in his own life and family. Stolas very literally has power over Blitz (through the grimoire, the arrangement, his position in society) and Blitz uses their relationship as an excuse to reverse those roles. But that power dynamic, in one form or another, never truly goes away. And for Blitz, it's a lot easier to paint Stolas as this manipulative symbol of power and himself as nothing more than Stolas' plaything. It's easier to be angry than to be vulnerable and accept that someone might care about him.

"Dismiss" is the keyword in that quote. All that Blitz has been able to process is that Stolas has decided to end the relationship that they have. He feels ls like a choice has been taken away from him so he lashes out because he's not ready to emotionally tackle what the rest of Stolas' offer might entail. If Stolas hates him, just wants to play with him, then he is justified in his anger, his self-destruction, his isolation. If the world is mean, you're "allowed" to be mean back.

But

In that moment he forgets that Stolas is someone he actually cares about. Someone he's known for way too long and clearly wants to keep in his life, no matter how reluctant he can be to admit it. Someone who is not innately cruel or manipulative but sad and desperate for connections in a lot of the same ways that Blitz is. And Blitz immediately sees that he's miscalculated something.

Somewhere along the way the fictional version of Stolas that he's allowed himself to be mad at and the real one that he's not ready to admit he cares about have merged into something real that he has actual power over. Stolas can get hurt and Blitz can be the one who does it. He has once again allowed his greatest fears (which Stolas so frequently symbolizes) to co-opt his loved ones, to give him an "out" even though he didn't actually want one in the first place.

I'm definitely not the first person to say this but I think this is an example of the miscommunication trope done right. Their individual struggles are what cause them to be unable to connect during this conversation or to even have a proper conversation in the first place. There is no convenient misunderstanding or third party fabricating this rift. Both of them have preconceived ideas of what the other one is thinking but those ideas are flawed and rooted in self-hatred. They also both shutdown in their unique ways when the conversation starts heading in the direction they'd feared it would.

Blitz and Stolas work because they're both fucked up in similar ways, because they want similar things. That's the same reason why they're uniquely designed to hurt one another. A fear of rejection and a yearning for happiness. To borrow a quote that has been used by literally everyone from Spiderman to Evangelical preachers, "hurt people hurt people."

anyway, I really liked this episode.

(twitter thread screenshots sourced from this reddit post)

[theoxenfree]

TINCTURE OF ACONITE

werewolf x "magic" practitioner!reader | 2.4k

a man is told about a dilapidated inn on the outskirts of the village that houses a practitioner of unsavory sorts. he seeks you out to find a cure for his affliction—lycanthropy. with blood on his hands, at the mercy of a fate of cruel uncertainties, he has no choice but to take on the task you give to him and the catch that comes with it: he must decide if he deserves to live or die.

warnings; dark fantasy, mentions of blood and mutilation, a very dark interpretation of lycanthropy, very evasive interpretation of what a "practitioner" is, mc smokes, theological discussion, derogatory insult (e.g. bitch), roughly proofread.

this is the first of my prompts fulfilled for my personal october writing project! this was also the prompt that won the first poll!

i would appreciate it enormously if y'all would please reblog + leave me feedback on this! particularly if you'd be interested in seeing this as a full story down the line!

From the hawk-nosed widow selling stale bread and wrinkled, gray potatoes with mysterious growths, he'd learned about a dilapidated inn fringing the northwest end of the village. There, she had said warily, with keen and wise eyes showing wide whites and tiny bloodshot threads, he would find the answers to everything he had never asked for.

He would find the Practitioner.

It took him less time than he thought to find his way across the village, away from the cursory and reluctant and distrustful looks as he lumbered through in his heavy boots and loose-fitting black tatters he'd sewn together himself time and time again. His face was haggard, skin wet and ashen, and he couldn't remember the last time he held a blade to shave his face, tame his long, dark hair.

To the townspeople, he must've looked like a wildman; uncivilized; belonging to the deep wood and meadows and smelling thickly of untouched nature, mud, and musk. Perhaps, now, he was just that because he also could no longer remember a time where he'd been welcome to sleep in a bed, ate a meal cooked and seasoned to be used with cutlery, allowed himself to be gripped by scalding water and bath salts, reveled the touch of another person.

Upon reaching the inn sometime later, a tiered, hulking structure which seemed to rot from the inside out; the middle of the massive thing bowing inward as though slowly being sucked underground—into hell, he was greeted at the entrance without ever having needed to knock.

“Second floor,” was all the older fellow said. A man with unhealthy grayness to his complexion that rivaled his own. All of the vigor, pink liveliness was long gone from his face and his eyes reflected nothing—not a want, a wish, a worry, or thought beyond remembering to move one foot after the next to keep locomotion.

He moved beyond the gaunt, wispy fellow who quietly closed the door, then shuffled off through another threshold leading elsewhere. He'd been instructed to go to the left, to the end of hall and through the door which faced him.

When he did this, the somnolent dreariness of the world outside fell away and he was sucked into silence filled with static. The room was sentient, almost, swirling with immense wafts of burning herbs, fragrant flora, dark tendrils of smoke emerging from wilted candle wicks and the cherry flickers at the tips of them.

“Well, aren't you a sad sight!” Your voice was deceptively upbeat in comparison to this room, this place. He noticed you seated in a high-backed chair padded in ripped red velvet, a large table stretched out before you and sprawled with many, endless things. “It isn't easy to find this place. Who told you about me?”

“The potato seller at the village.” He said.

You pressed a flat, metal tip between your lips and sucked in on some weird instrument, blowing out a profuse cloud of faint, purple smoke which smelled otherworldly and familiar.

“You mean the widow with the crazy eyes?”

“I…suppose so, yes.”

“She's crazy, you know?”

“She told me you'd be able to cure me.”

You smiled like he'd just told you an amusing joke, wooed you a bit in the process. He watched your teeth come out from behind your lips and clench down on the metal tip.

“Cure you? She wouldn't have used those words. She despises me and likes to think people she sends my way meet their death. What a vindictive old bitch. She’ll get hers one day.” You said, then gestured to the empty chair opposite the table to you. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, though. We’ve only just met. But, I know a desperate man when I see one. I know a cursed man when I see one.”

The chair was uncomfortable, not at all wide enough, strong enough to bear his form but it did not collapse under his weight, only creaked and whimpered. You were observing him as casually as he would have had a friend a long time ago, with such little regard for safety, little fear of this brawny and moody stranger sitting across from you at a table with countless, shatterable objects.

It occurred to him after an awkward moment of silence (on his end, you were perfectly at ease), you were waiting for him to diffuse his anguish, his worries, his curse—why he was really here in this room with you now. Only, he wasn't sure where to start, nor what information he could give that you'd consider pertinent apart from the rest.

He'd forgotten how to speak to people during his long, lonely solitude as well, it seemed.

“The woman—the widow—she told me you're a practitioner in the Devil’s Magic. Is that true?” he mumbled, for one second considering taking one of the hundreds of baubles on the table to turn over in his hands. “I do not much believe in any of that. The workings of any god or evil, it isn't related to my affliction. But, I want to know if you're actually capable of curing me, or a charlatan scamming the poor to be even poorer.”

You exhaled more of the luxurious smoke from your strange pipe before finally setting it aside to take up a round flask made of clear glass. Despite it appearing empty, something unseeable sloshed within—water, perhaps—and it smelled foul when you uncorked it.

“Devil’s Magic,” you seemed to consider his wordage with a derisive smile, but he had a feeling this wasn't about him. “That old wretch is something else. Handsome Sir, I am a lot of things and no one important. I am no witch, wizard, magician, druid, and I am certainly no charlatan. I might be able to help you with your case of lycanthropy.”

Hope reignited in his eyes, still but a dull flicker waiting to be snuffed as it had many times before, yet he always dared to feel this way whenever a possibility arose.

“I—never mentioned my affliction,” surprised as he was, he now knew he'd made the right choice spending his afternoon finding the inn rather than continuing onward for the next town. “How can you be so certain that's what I suffer—”

“A man of your destitute and good manners aren't the types who get stricken with vampirism or cursed by hags. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, I'll bet. A good man, loyal to a fault to an… owner? An employer? A lover, perhaps?”

You were staring over his face searchingly at the end, carefully winding your wrist with the nauseating, invisible concoction in your hand. For a moment, there was nothing but silence as he considered the meaning behind your exact curiosity, trying to pry an answer from you with a stern look he'd used to terrify and award himself some small, scarce comforts.

When you didn't falter, he slouched deeper into his seat, clearly defeated by your eccentricity and dumb fearlessness.

“Thousands of miles away, I once served a Duke and a Duchess as their guard. One night, I was sent out as the baleful cries of some beast had sent My Lady into a frenzy, my My Lord into a fit of rage. Those lands were cursed, everyone was well aware, but I've never thought above my status and so I went.

“The night was all around me. Something lurked in the trees, perhaps lost souls, perhaps something else. The mist moved as though alive, a limb, an arm, an extension of the forest itself and I could scarcely see. But then, I saw it: an enormous, bent creature in a man’s torn clothes. It had the vicious face of a wolf, yet it could walk upright like a man and when I gave chase, it could sprint unlike anything I'd ever seen.”

You were leaning to one side of your throne now, an arm bent on top of the armrest while you swiveled the bottle, still watching him as though he were simply divulging some asinine discontent.

“I—” he paused, breathing arrested behind the rise of ugliness in his throat, something that tasted as vile as it was to remember.

Until then, he had been speaking to you quietly and sullen, like a man resolved to his fate. But now, he listened to his own voice fracture, quiver, and croak. Beyond that, his face and ears burned, aching from embarrassment, every emotion he had belittled himself into hiding away.

“I—was restrained by the damned thing and it took a chunk out of my side. I thought it would rip me apart; part of me wishes it had. Everything after that for a while is a blur to me even now, and I never remember the instances when I… change… only that the night calls to me, the moon a siren’s song.”

“Have you killed anyone as a beast?” you asked.

The mention made his gaze shift down to his hands which still groped the bauble, finding it a safe thing to concentrate on in that moment. Fortunately, the impossible heat in his head was quickly receding and he could once again fully regain clarity.

“I would have to believe so, yes,” he chose to say, honestly. “When I become the monster, I never have a recollection of the things that happen. But, I've awoken enough times covered in blood, surrounded by mutilation to ever claim otherwise.”

Now, you had the pipe back in your mouth and were inhaling the dreamy fumes. Letting the purple haze out of your nostrils. You were no longer looking at him, instead skittering the vastness of things across your tabletop, obviously in search of something.

“I want to be forthright with you, though you've only kept an air of mystery around yourself the entire time,” he started, replacing the object back on your table with the rest. “Either, I want your help for a cure, or I want you to develop a poison that will kill both myself and the beast inside of me.”

Your eyebrows ticked up, conveying the most emotion he'd seen out of you yet. “Those are both extremes. I cannot promise you anything because I am not a practitioner of magic or miracles. I am simply: the Practitioner. You will be the one to decide your own fate, for I cannot decide it for you.”

“I don't understand.” He looked at you helplessly, weathered and weighted.

From among the mass of stuff before you both, you pulled out a small notebook bound in leather, secured with a strap. You resumed puffing away on your pipe once he took it from you, studying it with some measure of apprehension and revulsion.

“This notebook contains many different specimens I've studied over, oh, some years. One of those specimens is a plant called aconite. You must find me a bushel, along with a handful of other things, and bring them back to me for me to create the tincture you need to either be cured or poisoned.”

He examined the notebook front to back several times, as though all of his answers would suddenly materialize across the covers. Of course, no such thing happened. “You have this table of the strangest things I've ever seen, and yet you don't have the things needed to create the tincture. I’m finding you to be a liar.”

You gave a great huff of exasperation, blowing purple smoke towards him in retaliation. “And I'm finding you to be among the dullest of men I've ever met. These things that I have do not serve a purpose to individuals. You must be the one to create the tincture for yourself. It is the intention behind it; your thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and desires. You have to decide what you truly think you deserve—what you truly want.”

“That is witchcraft,” he said, incredulous. “It's magic!”

Again, you gripped the metal with your teeth and smiled around it. “Is it magic, or is it the power of your own thinking? Is your lycanthropy the result of a beast or your own illness? Will you live or die? I can't answer those things for you.”

“Then, I must go.” He found a pocket inside his coat that hadn't worn or torn with all his previous transformations and tucked it there. When he rose from the crackling chair, wood springing back to life once he was out of it, you surprisingly stood with him. “I'll find the answers I need. I'll return to you with these things.”

You were less awful seeming up close, a normal person dwarfed by his size. It was an odd feeling to be in such close proximity to someone else, one who didn't shrink and cower beneath the severity of his face—the dark brows and dark hair and unshaven jaw. But, you stood there with him next to the door to let him out, unafraid and fixed in your confidence that he would bring you no harm.

It moved him.

It moved him so deeply that he reached for your warmth, or your illusion, and kissed you deeply. He relished the touch of your lips, the press of your body against his, and the taste of your fragrant smoke which was effervescent and sparkling in his mind.

He could have taken you to bed right then, lain naked with you, damp with sticking skin while tangled together in an embrace, luxuriating in the afterglow.

But, he could not answer those desires while with his affliction as you would die, and he couldn't burden that sort of grief after knowing the touch of another. He even wondered, with some shame, whether he deserved to know someone of your caliber, your mysticism and wisdom, after slaughtering men and women whom he'd never know the names of. Those whose families would never know closure.

He kissed you once more, letting it linger and swell with his feelings before he let you go and went for the door.

“I'll return to you.”

You still had your pipe and smoked it, smiling evenly and contentedly.

“I wonder what you'll choose in the end.”

[scoonsalicious]

1.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.

Word Count: 960

Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...

A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts. 

He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in. 

“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”

Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.

Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”

Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?” 

Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”

Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?

“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!” 

Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn’t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification. 

“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.

“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”

Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”

Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.

Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.

Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”

Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”

When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it���s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”

Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said. 

Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”

“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”

Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager. 

But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: unprotected sex, virgin! konig drabble, some man handling, wrote this in a rush, slight dumbification, idk mannn

Colonel fucked you like a good and proper bitch. It was derogatory, almost. Didn't hesitate to handle you by the pretty locks of your hair and drag you some place quiet just to feel you grind and roll your hips against his in futile efforts to get yourself off. Your crying and groaning into your own arm, strands of drool slobbering down your soft flesh, your biting, twitching, begging.

König had no problem offering you a real good fuck, spent his hours frustrated on duty, bowing his head, following orders - playing nice. Hated every moment of it, he did. What he hated most? Having to sit there and think about all the things he could do to you. Spent most nights palming his cock, unable to finish and saving all his virile seed just for you. The sweet little barrack bunny who dedicated her cute little cunt to being bullied and violated by his seemingly endless libido.

It was you who took König's virginity, after all. Teasing him with endless soft touches, rubbing against his upper thigh while you pretended to really give a shit about his issues. Let him growl in to your shoulder about all his issues while he hoisted you up by the meat of your fleshy thighs and held you between himself and the wall. All hoisted up on his throbbing cock, which wept milk, white tears of precum that acted as lubricant for your needy pussy.

Poor König, he was so fucked up and twisted, traumatized and thoroughly mind broken by the countless lives he slaughtered with the same hands that gently rub and map out the pretty markings across your skin. You pant endlessly in his ears, words of praise, sweet words that he genuinely didn't deserve. Calling him your "good, loyal dog".

It made his knees weak, absolutely crushing you under his weight while he fucked you against that cold, hard wall. His huffs like a rutting pup, equally desperate and sloppy in his thrusts, only slowing down when your hands slip inside his mask just to give his hair a rough, threatening tug.

König lets you get away with a lot, schatz, but that doesn't mean you can take advantage of the effect he's pussy drunk. He'll give you a firm smack on the ass, a slurring string of commands that are meant to scold you. Only accomplishing a giggle and a obeying whine in his ear from your pretty mouth. Your cunt squeezing tightly on him, sucking up all the warm spend he presses deep into you, left in nothing but a shivering, shaken completion.

tagging: @babybimbo777 @kettlemouse @yandere-kokeshi

[mirrorball-leclerc]

you're honor, i am innocent. HE is the guilty one!

series masterlist

isabella perez imagine getting called out by jimmy fallon on national television. could never be me.

lando norris fuck you, your third wheel is literally an influencer.

isabella perez YOU LEAVE LARRAY OUT OF THIS CONVERSATION BITCH!

bailey winters listen, nothing will ever beat the grammys

george russell and in his defense he now has a win.

max jones-verstappen he can now enter the reputation era he threatened back in february

ollie bearman rip lando nowins 2019-2024 you will be dearly missed.

gael perez welcome lando onewins 2024-???

lewis hamilton ollie has clearly been spending too much time with the perez siblings. get him away from them.

dulce perez no can do sir hamilton, he's one of us now. white boy is an honorary mexican.

ollie bearman i can't handle spicy food but YEAH!

bailey winters listen, my third wheel is lando's best friend, whom i happen to like more than lando.

lando norris nah, that's some bullshit.

bailey winters max has never sent me away to spend time with carlos.

carlos sainz how many more times do i have to apologize for that? bailey winters so many times sainz. so many.

zoya torres you people are such shit stirrers. i love it.

rhys jones should change the group chat name to that.

fernando alonso i think the one now is more accurate

esteban ocon rip multi-21, you were iconic while you lasted (almost 2 years)

sebastian vettel please don't start this up again.

daniel jones-ricciardo please do, it's been far too long since we've had a multi-21 inchident.

charles leclerc oh my god.

bailey winters pray for lando, we're hanging out with max again.

max jones-verstappen no, we'll pray for you.

baileywinters posted new stories

hanging out with weens are you tired maximus? will never understand brits, especially ones who wear hoodies when it's warm

maximus bailey, please come and get this man.

american (derogatory) i'm in the studio.

maximus that is a fucking lie!

one win wonder carlos wouldn't treat me this way.

american (derogatory) maybe you should date carlos instead.

maximus she is a singer lando, she will destroy you if you piss her off.

american (derogatory) up until a week ago i couldn't of written the alchemy about him because he'd never won a race.

one win wonder BUT I'VE HELD TROPHIES BEFORE

one win wonder and at least i made it to f1

american (derogatory) BOOOO!!! GET THIS GUY OUT OF HERE!!! HE SUCKS!!!

maximus and to think you could've had a win since 2021 but you fucked it up.

one win wonder CARLOS WOULD NEVER!!!

american (derogatory) GO BE WITH CARLOS BITCH!! WE DON'T WANT YOU HERE!!

maximus CLEARLY HE'S THE BETTER FRIEND AND LOVER! GO BE WITH HIM.

one win wonder THIS IS BULLYING!! YOU'RE BULLIES!! MONSTERS BOTH OF YOU

bailey winters i'm giving one boyfriend away to carlos sainz. please come pick him up. let it be known he comes with baggage (his gaming shit)

lando norris I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT!!

max fewtrell YOU RAT!

penelope trevino what the hell is going on?

lando norris they (bailey and max) were bullying me so i said carlos would never do that to me and now they're mad.

max fewtrell you're so fake lando.

carlos sainz i would never bully him. i love him.

penelope trevino oh my god. not this again.

lando norris you will never be able to separate true love

bailey winters match made in hell.

penelope trevio soulmates those two.

max fewtrell i have never known peace since they met.

carlos sainz we are not that bad. you people are just haters.

bailey winters famous last words sainz.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! missed a day because i genuinely had no idea what i was going to write for this part.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[the-desilittle-bird]

AN- Serving you these sweet preferences is my duty... even though it means failing mathematics test, cause I can't pass it anyway 🤣

Requests are always open and well appreciated!

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

HOTD Preferences

Defending Your Honor

Characters- Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Otto Hightower, Corlys Velaryon, Cregan Stark and Criston Cole.

Warnings- Slut-shaming, Curse, Murder (Daemon and Aemond), Fighting and Cutting off... something

Daemon 'Rogue Prince' Targaryen

You were Daemon Targaryen's paramour, with nothing to your name but his love and devotion. A mere dressmaker who somehow charmed the prince.

While your relationship was purely based on emotional supports and the physical attributes followed way later, the nobles didn't share the same thoughts.

Behind your back, you could hear their derogatory comments over you, questioning your relationship with the infamous prince.

"She must have a tight cunt for the prince to keep her so close."

"I am sure she is a witch and has fucked her magic into prince Daemon."

"There is no doubt that she will be ready to fuck and undress herself in front of anyone for money."

While Daemon would hear anything about himself with amusement, hearing things as such for his beloved made his blood boil.

In a feast in the honor of his own nameday, he made sure you were seated next to him with the Royal Family.

The family was welcoming but the courtiers weren't.

And he hears them again.

And goes crazy.

At the abrupt end of the feast, the Noble degrading you and your honor was taken to the Silent Sisters with a separated head or probably something even harsher.

Aemond 'One-Eyed' Targaryen

Aemond loves you a lot.

Everyone loves you, honestly. Except for some who think you are some scheming bitch, which secretly includes Otto.

During a normal session of the court, Aemond hears a member of a vassal house of Lannisters speaking rubbish about you.

Your honor was put to question and he won’t have it that way.

Interrupting the session, he calls the man ahead and when the spotlight is upon that man.

Aemond starts announcing the young lord’s “accusations”. And the whispers start.

But they are abruptly put to stop, by Aemond’s sword cutting off the lord’s head; much in a way Daemon had drove Dark Sister through Vaemond Velaryon.

And followed a long monologue about you and defending your honor and a threat of what shall happen if he is disobeyed.

All while that dead lord’s blood painted his face.

Otto ‘Hand of the King�� Hightower

You are his wife, or maybe courting each other, or betrothed to marry.

Either way, he is protective. Very. Very. Protective.

You are younger. Beautiful. Almost goddess like.

At a feast, you talk to a lord.

And there goes numerous rumours.

While Otto doesn’t believes it, others do.

And then, one day, you admit it. That the rumours were troubling you a lot.

And next, you hear that the man responsible for the rumours could never have children again, had you overjoyed and smirking. Found with the sigil of House Hightower next to him.

That was the very clear message to all.

Corlys ‘Sea Snake’ Velaryon

Corlys is possessive and protective of you, his darling wife.

You were from Dorne, and your Dornish practices aren’t quite far from your heart.

And that includes the flirtatious comments.

Corlys enjoyed that. But the other lords and ladies had a field trip, making rumours and what not.

When they hear them, he is angry and he throws a feast, intending to show what honour these people were talking of.

The feast was all normal except the wine was specifically strong and the servant ladies were all dressed provocatively.

And all of the lords were leering and everything.

Next morning, he organises a breakfast. And gives a loud and clear announcement.

All of it while the lady wives of those men were present and fuming with rage at the humiliation.

In directly, never talk bad about Corlys Velaryon’s wife.

Cregan ‘Wolf of the North’ Stark

You were of South and you arrived in Southern style.

And it made the lords of the North send you leering gazes.

And you were bold to admit it to Cregan who softly replied with:

“I apologise on their behalf, my lady. I shall see to it that it is taken care of.”

It was. But for only a few weeks.

And then came the feast before your wedding to him.

And the lords were drunk and again dishonouring sentences were exchanged.

The smile on your face was long gone and your jaw sat in a gesture of displeasure.

And it seemed to do something to Cregan. For one second, his direwolf was in front of the table; the other, that drunken lord was on the floor with the direwolf growling at his face.

“Since this day ahead, no one shall dare to dishonour my wife, your lady. Or, you shall not like what shall happen.”

And the smile on your face is sweet as you looked at your betrothed.

Criston ‘Kingmaker’ Cole

You were only a friend of his at that time.

And a Dornish lady.

A beautiful lady who was close to a member of King’s Guard.

And boom! There are rumours.

Penting up everything in his chest, Criston blasted when he heard a comment about you in the training grounds.

He challenged that knight or lord to a combat fight.

That fight ended with the lord being beaten to near death while Criston’s fists were bloodied.

You were told way later that something like that happened.

And while everyone were rather angry at his action, you were very very proud.

[megamindsecretlair]

Sit Back and Unwind

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI., multiple uses of derogatory names and slight daddy kink. You are in charge of your own reading experience! Intentional use of AAVE. Porn without plot. Cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male receiving) derogatory language, possession kink, size kink, all consensual. Sorry if I miss any others!

Summary: As you grease Tyrone's scalp, he talks you into giving in to him and your insane chemistry.

Word Count: 1,688k

A/N: I'm going to shut my comp down for the weekend 'cause I am feral and I have nothing to say for myself. Just had an image of greasing that man's scalp and it ran away from me. Also gonna get zooted and watch the movie for the 3rd time so far. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers.

Tyrone sat with his broad shoulders in between your legs as you combed through his hair. The living room was hot and stuffy, even with your windows open and a box fan blowing. The TV played a basketball game because Tyrone didn’t want to watch one of your “wack-ass Lifetime movies”.

You moved his head as you combed through his thick, coarse hair. You parted a section and ran grease through it. Tyrone’s hands began to rub your exposed legs. “Boy stop,” you said and parted another section.

“When you gonna give me a chance?” He asked.

“Don’t bring that shit up right now,” you said and giggled.

“C’mon. I’ll make you feel good.” His hands continued to roam. His hands were rough and calloused like he been workin’ hard. You licked your lips and breathed deeply. Your attraction to this man was insane.

“You know why, Tyrone. You lucky I’m even doing your hair right now.” 

“C’moooon. I told you I ain’t even messing with nobody right now. I want you,” he said. He looked back at you so you could look into his molten brown eyes.

“Yeah? And how many bitches messin’ with you?” You turned his head and continued to grease his scalp. 

“You know I’ll have your legs shakin’ while I’m in them guts. That’s why you don’t want to give me a chance,” he said and sucked his teeth.

“I am not finna play with you!” You laughed. You laughed but you knew he was telling the truth. You heard the stories about Tyrone’s big dick. Hell, you didn’t even need the stories. Just from the way that muthafucka walk, you knew he’d have you speaking in tongues.

But you didn’t need some random little girl blowing up your phone at 3am once word got out that you fucked Tyrone. You were not prepared to throw hands every time you ran up to the hair shop.

“Why not? I’m trynna play with you.” 

You rolled your eyes and continued to part his hair. When you didn’t answer, he leaned forward and half turned on the floor. He looked you up and down, licking his juicy lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said. 

Your nipples pebbled and you knew he probably noticed through your flimsy tank. It was hot for entirely different reasons. He turned more until he was completely facing you. His hands rubbed your thick thighs as he kept eye contact. Your breathing turned shaky. 

“Just let me play with you. You want me to, don’t you?” 

You didn’t protest as his hands went further up. His thumbs pressed into your inner thighs and you bit your lip to keep from moaning. He found some kind of ache because he zeroed in on it, continuing to press it and massage out the knot.

He moved in between your legs, spreading them further. He unbuttoned your shorts and opened them and smirked at your panties. 

“Let me take care of that,” he said.

You leaned forward, intending to push him away. Instead, his lips descended on yours. His warm, wet tongue pressed against yours. As he kissed you, he worked your shorts off. You broke apart just long enough to lean up and get the shorts off your hips. 

He moved your panties to the side and dipped his thumb into your pussy. He hummed low in the back of his throat discovering how wet you were.

“You were just gonna sit here like this and not tell me?” He asked, his lips still pressed against yours. 

“We shouldn’t even be doing this,” you murmured. You were trying to be smart. To say all the right things. But then his thumb started to move, searching for and finding your swollen clit.

“Don’t lie to me. You want this dick. And I want to give it to you,” he said. 

“Tyrone…”

His thumb moved in tight, small circles and you started to moan. Shit. He played you like a fiddle, immediately finding what makes you weak. He moved his lips to your jaw and then to your neck, nibbling.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“Stop fightin’ me, girl.” He licked your neck. While one hand rubbed your clit, his other hand grabbed the other side of your neck. “Let me feed you this dick.” 

You moaned and dropped your head back against the couch. Your body convulsed and moved. His body heat was oppressive. 

Your arousal tightened your belly and you cried as you got closer and closer. Your nails dug into his forearms. He stopped his hand.

“Yo, what the fuck?!” 

He tilted his head. “Beg me for that shit,” he said. 

You grunted. “Fuck you, Tyrone!” 

He squeezed your neck and pulled you closer. He stuck his thumb in your mouth and you tasted your juices on his big fingers. You moaned and sucked and he watched you, almost indifferently. His nostrils flared. 

“Look at you. Can’t help yourself. Beg me to cum,” he said.

You were still so close. You didn’t want to lose it. “Please,” you moaned around his finger.

“I can’t hear you.” 

“Please, Tyrone. Please, let me cum,” you said. You didn’t care how pathetic you sounded. You didn’t care to hold on to some bullshit morals. You’d deal with the crackheads sprung on his dick. You just wanted to cum. 

He yanked his thumb out of your mouth and returned it to your clit. Your spit mixed with your desire and you returned to moaning. “That’s my girl,” he growled.

“Shit,” you cried and finally came. How did this fucker know? Your legs shook and squeezed his waist as you came. 

“Lookin’ so fuckin’ pretty cumming for me,” he said as he watched you.

You panted as you calmed down. Your body was on fire. Sweat trickled down from your temple, under your boobs, and down your back. Somehow it wasn’t enough. You had an ache deep inside that wasn’t satisfied. 

Tyrone stood up and unbuttoned his dickies, pulling it down just far enough to release himself. He stroked his plump dick, squeezing the base and then down to the gleaming tip. 

“Get it wet for me,” he commanded.

You stared at it. Shit. The stories didn’t do him justice. You could see why he had girls cocksprung. 

“Now.” 

You huffed and scooted forward. You took the tip into your mouth. The smooth and salty taste of him had you clenching around nothing. You needed this inside of you. Your panties grew more damp by the second.

You took him as far as you could. His precum leaked out of him and you slurped it up. You brought your hands up to help you please him. You cupped his balls and rolled them. His answering growl made you shiver. You moaned around his dick as you bopped your head up and down.

He slipped his hands into your curly hair and palmed your scalp. He took control and fucked your mouth. Drool ran down your chin and you made all kinds of nasty sounds. “Nah, I’m cumming in that pretty little pussy,” he said. He slipped out of your mouth and gripped his dick.

He pushed you down onto the couch and moved your panties to the side again. He pushed in, stretching you.

“Goddamn,” he sighed as he worked his way in. He stroked in and out with shallow bursts to stretch you further. 

“Oh fuckfuckfuck,” you cried as he worked into you. There was a slight burn and you bit your lip. The pleasure was immense. 

He put all his weight on you and bit your neck. He finally bottomed out and groaned in your ear. You scratched at his back over his tank before pulling it up so that you could get to him. To his skin. He smelled like cocoa butter and sweat. Like a man.

One of his hands spread your legs more so that he could get in there deep. His other hand braced himself on the side of your head. His breath fanned your ear and neck. “Talkin’ all that shit. You ain’t got nothing to say?” 

You shook your head. Your throat was raw from moaning. 

“Yeah, this my pussy, ain’t it?” He hiked your leg higher on his hip and hit a spot deep inside that made you buck.

“There that shit is.” He grinned as he continued to aim for that spot. 

“Shit. I c-can-” You couldn’t speak as black spots winked in and out of your vision. 

“Look at me. Look at me hittin’ this shit,” he said. Your eyes rolled until they found his. Your belly flipped. You clenched around him.

“Do that shit again,” he grunted. His strokes slowed down but became more powerful. He rocked into you so that on every up slide you scooted up the couch. 

You clenched again and he smirked. “That’s right. I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” Your voice was small and weak as he continued to hit that G spot. 

“Yeah? Well tell Daddy thank you,” he said.

You huffed. You would’ve told him off if he wasn’t hitting so good. He took this shit seriously. 

“Thank you,” you said and cried out as he hit it a little too hard.

“Uh uh. Tell Daddy thank you.” 

He moved his hand from your thigh down to your neck. “Be a good little ho and tell Daddy thank you,” he demanded. 

He twisted his hips and drove into you. “Thank you Daddy!” You cried as you came all over him.

“That’s it. Squeeze Daddy’s dick,” he said. 

He fucked you through it, the wet slap of his thighs hitting yours. He tightened his grip on your neck as he moaned and busted. Steaming hot ropes of cum shot inside of you. 

And still he fucked you. “This my fuckin’ pussy. Don’t play about that shit no ‘mo.” 

He fucked his cum deeper into you. His strokes slowed down as he kissed your neck, your chest, and bit your nipple through your tank. 

“Next time I wanna see these titties bounce for me.”

[shunshunrika]

Megumi being rough dom🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

Y'all turning me into a Megumi Stan account (yeah he's my fav bitch but I'm feeling gojo lately).

I will do this concept for a larger set of jjk characters 😌

Jujutsu Kaisen! boys as ROUGH Doms

Warnings: afab!reader, aged up, SMUT, all kinds of things, don't read if not comfortable - nothing is abusive or nonconsensual or weird though.

Megumi Fushiguro

Trial and error rough dom. Rough intercourse isn't something that Megumi particularly knows a lot about and he takes it upon himself to try out different things to see what you like best. It's a new routine each time. One day he would experiment with handcuffs and leg cuffs, another day would be choking you till your eyes roll back, the third time would be stretching you into challenging positions to make sure his cock buries deep in, his weepy penis head kissing your insides with each violent thrust. He'd find that in all of his trials, decorating you with scratches and hickeys is by far the most common outcome.

"You look pretty all marked up by me."

Satoru Gojo

Cocky rough dom. Talks a lot. By a lot, I mean a LOT. and it's all about how good of a fuck he is. Won't stop comparing himself to his mates when he is skewering into you with his lengthy member. You let him though since you're get a marvelous sex session out of it.

"Do ya think Suguru or Nanami fuck their girls this good?"

"You think any of them can last this long?"

"You think any of them cum as much as I would? I'd fill you up till it reaches your uterus yknow."

It's all good though since it really contributes to making you a wet, wet mess just for your stuck up boyfie. If you let him boast on, he might eat you out for hours as a gift, licking your pussy dry as a desert.

Suguru Geto

Mean rough dom. He would do no position other than doggy and it's derivatives since he wants to see his cock go in and out and destroy you in 4K. He'd say a lot of derogatory stuff. Call you his whore. Spit in your mouth. Cum on your face. He gropes your ass hard, aiming to get atleast 3 climaxes out of you, gritting his teeth trying to last long himself. He'd definitely make you beg for those orgasms though, denying them as long as possible, making you weep and moan for them. Maybe he'd sympathise and give in if you suck on his balls for a bit.

Kento Nanami

Calculated rough dom. Does a lot of research. Asks Around- his friends and colleagues, then apologizes for the informalness. Gojo gives him a bit too many tips, not all of which are required. Kento, who trusts Gojo shows up wearing bondage garter belts, whip in hand and cuffs ready. You are so confused for a minute before he begins spanking you with the whip just the right way, with mathematically perfect intensity and angle. certified nipple biter. Would make your maidens go all red and raw. Prefers to fuck you after that with your legs spread eagle, ass in the air and you laying on your belly. When his cum dribbles out, he push it all back in again and again.

Toji Fushiguro

Unintentional rough dom. He is a womanizer™ but he doesn't actually go hard on purpose. He's just built like a bull, with a personality to match. It's no surprise that even a short, soft session would end with you fucked mindless, unable to think or speak - eyes crossed, tongue lolling out. He won't stop until his cum is decorating your face, the insides of your pussy, leaking out of your asshole, sticking in between your thighs, pooling in the fold of your stomach, collecting on your nipples. All of these weren't handjobs, one of your holes was used each time and by the end of it, you pray you don't pass out. That is just how Toji gives back to his girl.

[sreidsville]

stockholm syndrome – spencelle.

"all my life i've been on my own, i use a light to guide me home, but now, together, we're alone, and there's no other place i'd ever wanna go"

summary: where reid and the team are in a bar, and he's jealous of a guy who keeps talking to elle, that's when he realizes that he needs to confess his feelings over her.

disclaimers: there're a few bad words, drinking insinuation and derogatory thoughts.

trope: fluffy, friends to lovers!

n/a: this is my first time writing and publishing a fic in english and english is not my first language so please take it easy and if you think there's something i can improve, let me know pls :)

divider by cafekitsune | wc: 1.8k

Jealous. That's the word, Spencer is jealous. He never felt this way before, and knowing that he's feeling this weird thing over his best friend only makes it worse.

Elle is beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the whole world to Spencer – and not only to him, since on the other side of the bar there's a guy completely interested in her. That makes Reid's mind start to focus just on them. In the way the guy is holding her hand and talking about her eyes… It's too much for him.

It was Derek's idea, Spencer didn't want to go there, but the whole team was excited to have some fun after a long case, and if he didn't go… Well, what was he going to do then? Re-read all the books he got? Rewatch his favorite Russian movie? Study? Sleep? Nothing seemed as good as spending a few hours with his friends, but now…

Now he started to regret it. And it's not just about the bar, it's about him not telling his real feelings over Elle. He always thought that he could ruin their friendship, but seeing that woman with another man would ruin him.

She's smiling, drinking some whiskey, and she's gorgeous wearing a red shirt that is Spencer's favorite. Staring at her is like staring at a new universe that Spencer wants desperately to discover, but is too scared to do it.

While he's standing alone at the counter, a thought crosses his mind almost at the speed of light. It's scary, but true. It's so true that it gives him headaches. If he doesn't take action, he will lose Elle. He'll lose her for another man. It may sound a little bit melodramatic, but… It's the reality. The bottle of sparkling water in his hands doesn't seem enough anymore. He looks around and sees Derek with a girl at the dance floor, having fun. Penelope and JJ are talking and laughing while drinking cocktails. And he is there… Alone. He's almost always alone, reading and drinking coffee at his own company, and has been like this since he was a kid. But the first time he saw Elle, he didn't feel that way. She's the one who lets him talk about statistics without complaining, the one that gives him beautiful smiles with dimples, the one who truly understands him, the one that makes him feel safe and… Loved. She's the one who he cares most about after his mother. And he can't lose her without trying to confess his feelings, he just can't, he's sure about it like he's sure he needs oxygen to breathe.

He kept this secret for himself for so long that now…

“Excuse me, can I have a drink?” he asked the barman, without really thinking about it, otherwise he was going to give up.

There were so many options that he felt lost, but in the end, he had chosen a simple cocktail. It has to be enough, he needs to do something.

Elle was bored, extremely bored. The guy with blonde hair and brown eyes keeps talking about his favorite football team and the way his exes hated him for talking about it all the time – these girls were right, Elle is also starting to hate him – but she keeps trying to be sympathetic…

“You know what? My exes were bitches…” the guy said, drinking his whiskey, making Elle raise an eyebrow. “They didn't even know how to pleasure me when… You know. But I think I've found the one who completes me…”

Elle couldn't contain herself from giving him a smile of disbelief. Did he just say what she thinks he did? Oh god, he's such a dick! It’s always a man…

“Oh, really?” she asks, softly, raising her gaze to his eyes “Do you wanna know what I think about it?” She gets close to his ear, seeing the way he smiles – she hates this type of man so much that she could kick his balls now, but instead of that, she says “I think your exes did the right thing when they left you. No woman deserves a guy who doesn't even know how to have a conversation without looking like a teenager desperate for sex… You should try to act like a man next time”

“What the…?” he whispered, but Elle gave him a smile and left, without saying anything else.

She looks around, looking for the one she knows that can make her night better. The one who she can talk to all day without feeling discomfort, the one who makes her feel worth it, the one who always praise her. And she found him at the counter, drinking alone. She walks to him, sitting by his side, but he don't seem to notice until she talks.

“How are you doing?”

“Hm? Oh, hi, Elle.” he looks a little disoriented.

Spencer is used to spend a long time lost in his owns thoughs and insecurities. Sometimes is hard to think about something else when all you see is your reflection at the mirror looking like all you didn't want to be. He wish he knew how to talk about this things… He wish a lot of things. And Elle knows that. She knows him better than anyone, that's why she gives him a soft smile.

"What do you have in mind, hm?” She looks so pretty under the golden light that Spencer almost forgets to answer.

“It's nothing, really. Just… bullshit.”

She rolls her eyes back, and stare at him again, almost like she’s asking if he's serious.

“I'm just… I'm feeling weird…” he confess, the first thing that came through his mind.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I want to, I just… I don't know how to talk about it, you know? I know a lot of things, a lot of words, even in different languages, but I don't know how to express myself. That's so stupid.”

He gives a weak laugh, as if he's making fun of himself, and Elle hates when he does this. He have been always like that, makes jokes about himself as if it hurts less, when in fact, it makes him feel worse, just so someone else doesn't do it first.

“Reid, just don't. Don't do that, ok?” she asks, staring at his face.

“Do what?”

“Hate yourself. Don't do that. You're always looking out for others, trying to understand them, but when it comes to yourself, you just don't take it easy. You forget to take care of yourself, and that... that destroys me. Seeing you like this, pretending to be fine.” she sight, and take his hand, holding them together. “So, be honest, just for now, ok? What do you really want to do?”

Spencer looks at their hands, together, and feel his heartbeat going faster. Be honest… that's all he needs to do now, be honest with him, with Elle.

“I wanna get out of here. Can we take a walk, please?”

She smiles, proud of him.

“You don't have to ask twice, let's go.”

Outside the bar, the wind is present, ruffling Elle’s and Spencer’s hair. The woman wears an overcoat over her shirt and crosses her bras over her chest, trying to keep warm. Reid puts his hands in his pants pockets, taking a deep breath. For a long time, they just keep walking side by side, they have this thing, words don't need to be said for them to understand each other.

They walk to a park. The stars and moon are part of the beautiful landscape around Spencer and Elle. Everything’s calm, comfortable, and remains that way when Reid signals for them to sit together on a bench. For a few minutes, they stay like this, until Spencer starts talking.

“Elle…?”

“Yes?”

“All my life I've been on my own… My mother didn't know how to take care of me after my dad left us. And I… I was alone most of the time. I had no idea about what a normal life was, I never felt normal, until-” he stops for a second, trying to work up the courage to say the next words.

Elle notices, and keeps silent waiting for him, just staring at his pretty side profile, and his expressions.

“Until…?”

“Until I met you. When I'm around you, I feel normal. I feel like nothing else matters, like I could live a normal life… And you make me want it. I wanna be normal with you.”

Spencer finally stares at the woman by his side. He looks at the way her hair looks pretty under the moonlight, at how she's smiling, looking at him, like he’s… hers. Like she's finally sure about something that he was trying to hide. But as the time passes by, he feels more nervous, and forgets the possibility of her silence being something good.

“I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't… I…”

“Spencer?”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes, you forget about the fact that you can be loved. And sometimes, you forget how much I like you” she says, her intense gaze in Reid’s eyes “Spence… I wanna be normal with you too.”

1…2…3… And he keeps staring at Elle like she's not real, like all the things she said are not real, like this is not real. Feels like a fever dream.

“W-what?”

She laughs, a genuine laugh, which makes her dimples appear and her eyes close. Reid don't understand what's so funny. People used to make fun of him, but somehow, he knows that Elle is not laughing at him.

“God, Spencer… You're adorable. Your ears are red now, did you know? It's cute, I like it.” she says softly, smiling at him, and he does the same, shyly.

“But I-I don't understand…”

“What you don't understand?”

“How can you like me.”

She looks at him like she's mesmerized, she needs him to believe in all the things she have told him during the years they spend together. In his eyes she can see his insecurities, and she wants desperately to tell him she loves all of him, and that she understands him.

“Spencer, there's a few things that we can't explain. I just do… What I just told you? You can be loved, baby, I want you to believe me when I tell you that, ok?”

The next thing Reid had time to notice was Elle's hand on his face, her soft skin, and then her lips on his. Returning her kiss was as automatic as breathing, it's easy, and it's perfect. If they keep it like this, Spencer will never even think about leaving someday. She got him tied down. And he can't think about something else that it's not this moment.

Nothing else matters, just they both, kissing under moonlight, loving each other, and he hopes it's forever and ever, because now, now he knows everything. He knows that she loves him, and now he's sure of his own fellings, finally. And that's enough for them.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Something's changing in Ara Jackson. As if that weren't scary enough, Leo continues to be missing, the oracle doesn't work, and all forms of communication are failing. The Daughter of Olympus faces a new crossroads when Lester, formerly the sun god Apollo, enlists her in a new mission.

Book I // Book II

Born to Say 'Fuck Off' Forced to Say 'Yes, Sir'

No! Not My Irrepressible Thoughts of Death!

I Have a Resting Bitch Face but I'm Far From Rested

Kawabummer

Girl Help, the Backpain Is Winning

God Gave Us ADHD Because He Knew We'd Overthrow Him

I Can't Dance, I Can't Jive, I'm Not Having the Time of My Life

Dang Bitch, You Live Like This?

With All Due Respect, Which Is None

Yes Boy, Give Us Nothing!

I'm Ready to Fight God AND Die Trying

My Lil Prince (Derogatory)

Can't Blame a Bitch for Trying

To Whoever's Controlling Me Like a Sims Character, It's Not Funny Anymore

Maybe Consider This: Let's All Get Along

I'm up to My Tits With Morons

The Gang's All Here! (The Voices)

This Apollo Is Not Demure nor Mindful

Serendipity

This Is Not Very Yeehaw of You

We Are Thirsty, Besties

I Cannot Be Held Responsible for What I Say After 8PM in a Court of Law

Oh We're Performing Behaviours Are We? We're Acting in Ways?

I Have No Idea What I'm Doing, and None of You Can Stop Me

My Dokies Are the Okiest You've Ever Seen

I'm Going to Cry, This Is a Threat

At the Next Inconvenience, I Will Start Biting People

The Fucketh?

Believe It or Not, I'm More Terrible Than You'd Think

I'm Joining the Orcas at War

Unfortunately, I Prevail

Just Finished Sobbing. Time to Girlboss

I Wanna Hold His Hand So Bad It Makes Me Look Stupid

Silly Bitch Club

Yeet!

Found Family (Derogatory)

Girl Talk! *Guttural Screaming*

I Get Diagnosed With Omnipotence

I'm What the Kids Call 'Unwell'

Here's the playlist where I'll be adding all the songs I use for this fic -Danny

Join the taglist!

Last Update: Jan 17th, 2025 by Danny

[oreo102]

Please I'm so so curious to hear your thoughts on 10/14

Ok so my thoughts on 10 are less than 14 so let’s start with him lol. I have not watched 10, so my hatred of him is more hatred by proxy of how the fandom treats him and proxy of 14, but I still do have a few specific thoughts and this will be long and definitely rambly

A) when talking about him I usually refer to him as Fandom’s Favorite White Boy or Pathetic Wet Cat/Twink mostly because it’s funny but for now I’ll use 10. The most I know about 10 is that he is angsty and in love with rose and besties with Donna… also that he’s pathetic but that’s more vibes

So- my hate of 10 is less tangible than 14 but i still have a few points, the main one being the way i see ppl talk about how he treated Martha and how obsessed with rose he was. I don’t think it’s ever compelling to have someone’s main personality trait be loving someone a whole lot which also honestly is my problem with rose (don’t hate her but don’t care about her)

From what I have seen and heard of 10 it’s rather… boring, honestly? Like it’s mostly clips out of context but for 13 and 15 I saw clips out of context and was like “ok wth is happening? /pos” with 10 it’s more like “wtf?” Also pretty sure his episodes were some of the ones I saw when my parents had the show on that played a part in me swearing the show off so

Ok onto the more tangible hatred of 14. A lot of this, admittedly, is more about the writing and showrunner decisions than 14 but those things by proxy makes me hate him

So- I have a lot of feelings on him quite literally starting from his first appearance in power of the doctor. I am SO PETTY that he doesn’t wear 13’s silly little outfit. Like I have gone on full rants about that fact to my friends and family

I’ve seen something claim that rtd didn’t want 14 to wear her outfit because people might be transphobic and derogatory towards him (even tho Dhawan!master wore it, and it’s pretty gender neutral) but then did nothing about the shit ppl said about ruby’s actor or about ppl who would be a bitch about rose the second being nonbinary(also i remember seeing a post about their deadname being mentioned in an episode? Not totally sure that’s true tho)

The 60th anniversary specials themselves don’t really celebrate Dr who as a whole as much as 10’s run with a few old villains but that’s not really my main issue with that. My main issue with the specials is that the Doctor gets their happy ending. With Donna. And her family. When fucking 3-4 episodes prior, their happy ending would’ve been yaz. It would’ve been staying with yaz. But nope! Donna! Because that’s what 10 would’ve wanted.

And I don’t want 14 to be with yaz, btw, I mean I want them to meet and for yaz to hit him, but I don’t want them to be a thing or like be together because I believe yaz is a lesbian but that’s not the point of this so moving on

I also have very much big issues with the scene where 15 and 14 are (presumably, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the full scene) talking about women they love and mention who I assume to be River and rose but not yaz, who again, they wanted to spend forever with 3-4 episodes prior. It makes the doctor seem like a douchebag even if it’s a writing issue and not a character issue

Also 14 being David tenant overshadows 13’s departure and 15’s arrival and since he is most likely going to show up at least a little bit in s14 he’ll overshadow 15 in his own series. It’s icky at the very least.

There’s something inherently bad about having the fandoms Favorite White Boy be with a contentious casting decision (because I have no faith in the Dr who fandom not to be bigoted) and even if no one has an issue with 15 being black and maybe gay (is he gay? He gives gay vibes) it’s still setting him up for failure by pairing him with 14

Also bigeneration is so fucking dumb and I hate it

Also also stop giving the Dr 19 year old companions it’s getting kinda weird now

[persephone11110]

Trust In Me

tom kazansky x reader

warnings: abusive relationships(not Ice/Reader), talks of injuries, blood, curse words, self victim blaming,low self esteem, derogatory words used ,suicide attemp angst w/happy ending??

• Please tread lightly as this story is heavily about abuse. •

Summary: Ice knew the signs of abuse, when he was a young boy he watched his mother get covered in black and blue bruises, and he’s not letting that happen to Hound. Not Again

callsign:Hound | Last Name:Miller

- -

The great Hound Miller, Lieutenant Commander in the navy, the first woman in history to be indoctrinated into top gun. The first woman to graduate and successfully be the top of her class.

Hound Miller was strong, scary, cold-hearted on the oustide. The woman never broke a sweat during missions, always face death with a straight face, yet on the inside was as broken as anyone could be.

In the inside she was a woman who faced the abuse her boyfriend put her through. The bruises that covered her back as Josh spent morning, even and night punishing her for the mistakes she made.

She had developed a cold exterior as a consequence of the pain and suffering she had endured.

Who’s knows maybe she’ll get the guts to leave him. Maybe she’ll realize her worth and leave him.

But she can’t, because under all that aviation shit all she is a weak little bitch, not directly her words but Josh’s. A weak little bitch, who wouldn’t leave because she has nothing, not inch of space to claim as hers. She sure as hell no one to take her in, no one wants her, no one going to put up with her like Josh does.

But he’s right.

What strong woman can deal with almost dying everyday, but not be strong enough to leave.

- -

She finally got guts to leave him. What a mistake.

Hound never thought he lose it in public, where other people could see his facade crack and break.

To see were he isn’t the perfect boyfriend.

“Are you fucking dumb Y/n, did you really think you could leave me?”, venom laces his voice as he shouts at her, his facade slowly dropping.

His backhand flys across her face, she whimpers as she’s feels the stinging.

She knows better, Hound knows what to say, when to say and how to say it but she’s fucking exhausted. Has been for awhile, she’s knows love isn’t supposed to be like this, it’s not like that in poems, rom-cons, and novel.

She doesn’t care anymore, Hound is done being his broken toy, she doesn’t care if he beats her to death atleast she’s in peace.

She flinches harder than before, even though she knows whats going to happen. Hound thought she could take it, like she does all other times but this time the hit knocks her back a couple inches.

She stands there cowering under his angered gaze as the left side of her face burns. Her cold hands grab at her stinging cheek, soothing the burn.

“You think you can leave me Y/n!, who’s going take care of you?”

“Hm, what man is going to deem you worthy of his time?”

She whimpers, as he shakes her like a rattle toy.

“Stop, I��m sorry Josh” she begs him, his eyes turn dark, his hand runs up her neck, gripping it tightly.

Hound feels stupid, Why did I think I could get away?

Her throat starts to hurt, as his grip gets tighter.

He’s getting angrier.

Tears drench Hound’s eyelashes, as they fall down her cheek—damping her face as they drop.

“Please” she trys begging again, normally if she submits to him in defeat, and in weakness he stops.

Sadistic piece of shit.

She can’t see anything, the tears blurring her vision. She can’t see if this is the end of life, if this is the end of her suffering.

Josh chuckles darkly and it sends fear down Hound’s chest, she listen to his heavy breathing.

She done for, there no way she’s getting out of this relationship alive.

“I give you my home, my car, my love and you think you can leave me!” he shouts loudly into her ear.

She chokes on a sob.

“I-I’m sorry, please no”

“I’ll do whatever you want”

He starts laughing in her face. literally, “I always knew you were whore”

I’m just whore, dirty piece of meat that belongs to you.

“Answer me slut” he re-grabs her throat pressing harder than earlier.

Hound was supposed to be stronger than this. Why can’t she break out his grasp. Why didn’t she leave when he first got violent the first time.

Her airway is starting to close and she feels the neee to cough, but can’t.

She starts to choke, body starts convulsing from the lack of air.

“Look at me Y/n and allow me to remind you of who puts up with your shit”

A broken whine leaves her mouth.

I guess this is goodbye.

I guess this is me getting peace. It feels nice.

She starts to feels the darkness succumbing her, the sounds of blood rushing in her ears.

“Let go of her—”, a familiar voice she knows by heart. A man Hound hates humanly possible yet is happy he’s here. His voice just as cold as his personality

Somehow Hound felt so humiliated. But shouldn’t she feel relieved?

She’d already knew who it was by his ice tipped hair, his stone cold face. She recognized his cologne from anywhere.

Iceman Kazansky

Funny enough Hound is known for her elephant memory, yet she can’t remember what happened and how she ended up in Kazansky’s house.

- -

Ice never thought he’d ever see his enemy look so fragile and nervous in his life.

Bruises covered her arms, her legs and back. A mean purple bruise was forming around her neck.

He choked her, like actually tried strangling her to death.

He and Hound weren’t exactly friends, they also weren’t enemies either.

She and him don’t see eye to eye majority of the times, Hound flys like her life isn’t worth shit, and Ice flys to confident.

He may dislike her, but Ice sure as hell wasn’t leaving her die like his dad did with his mother Anya.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as concern entered his mind about her. She had been gone a long time.

He gently knocked on the door,“Hound you okay there?”

She could feel herself letting go, the water started to fill her ears.

Life left her body.

“Hound, you all right?”

She could feel herself letting go, the water starting to fill her ears.

There wasn’t any movement going on in the bathroom, there wasn’t noise either.

“Hound Miller?”

Hound started to slip underwater, the water was slowly claiming her lungs, her life.

Hound wasn’t worth anything. She doesn’t deserve the help Iceman giving her.

She could hear muffled sounds coming from the otherside of the door.

Bang.

Bang.

The door was ripped open.

“Hound!”, Ice hurriedly grabbed her body out his tub.

“Come here”, he beckoned with arms, his eyes closed out of respect. Hound slowly wrapped herself in the towel.

She was shivering in pain, her entire body was numb.

“You can open them Tom” Hound whispered to him. She was ashamed of herself, first Kazansky open his house up to her after saving her from Josh. Now she’s returning the favor by being suicidal.

Maybe Josh was right, she truly is worthless.

No man will ever love her. She’s broken, unfixiable.

Iceman slowly ran his eyes over her, inspecting the bruises that were casted all over her body.

A jagged knife scar. dragged down her lower back.

A knuckle ring imprint bruised her thighs, burns mark from cigarettes.

Stitches on her shoulder.

God he hated himself with everything, he could’ve given her the help his mother was denied.

He felt horrible, it explains everything about her.

The dark emotionless eyes, the angry tones, how she flew in the air. This woman had been going through hell for god knows how long.

Hound had been suffering and he had only added to it.

She clinged to him,like her life depended on it.

“I-Im sorry” Hound sobbed loudly into Ice’s shoulder.

“Shh, your okay— if not I’ll help you get there”, Ice promised her and he’s never the man to break his word.

“You’ll be okay”

“Oh, your shirt is soaking wet” she lifted her face from his shoulder.

Of course she’s more worried about his shirt, worried about his reaction.

“It’s fine Hound I got loads of Navy shirts, price of being the Navy’s favorite”, he joked with her.

A small smile appeared on her face, she quietly laughed.

“Funny—very funny Kazansky, me and you both know I’m the better pilot” she chuckled softly.

She plucked him gently , in return Hound earned a soft kiss on the side of her forehead.

Ice gave her his hand, and she took it willingly.

Lieutenant Commander Y/n “Hound” Miller has never has never felt safe before, but the way Kazansky held her felt safe and protective.

He made her feel safe— a man who was once her enemy is now her safe place.

Tom“Iceman” Kazansky isn’t cold, he’s warm.

[variousqueerthings]

I've just been spending the last few hours thinking about this ending that I haven't even thought about the whole rest of the episode, I've gotta. I've gotta just

oh boy I've gotta just fuckn

nothing about donna or fourteen or fifteen here just all the rest

1- at first I was thinking that the toymaker was defeated in kind of a simple way, but then on the other hand it's more a setup for some of the things we know is coming in ncuti gatwa's era, with classic!who gods. so the toymaker, yes, gives the opportunity to wrap up this past era and for DT to do those big sad wet eyes of his, but is far more for the next story's benefit in the long run from the sounds of things. also the behind-the-scenes for the game of catch is hilarious. NPH was so good, would be cool to see the toymaker make a reprise just with gatwa

2- ohhhhhhhhhh the Puppetry in this episode! PUPPETS! I am soooo into puppets, I could have spent a million episodes with these creepy fucking puppets, I hope we get more puppets

3- AND speaking of the toymaker, the master in the toymaker's tooth???? I haven't seen dhawan yet, so idk how that all ends, but I did not expect master setup, and I am very happy we did because the master is my favourite (derogatory, what a bitch)

4- RTD talking about the puppet that was broadcast on TV, I knew about that puppet (from getting a quiz answer wrong relatively recently lol), but giving that little historical Moment, now we all know a bit more, I just think it's neat

5- I am still not a fan of UNIT. every time we meet them they're a military force with weaponry that has the potential to do so much harm and... then they lose control of that weaponry. and also do weapons-related stuff that often makes the situation worse. I feel similarly of classic!UNIT who do manage to help out more on the whole, but still are fundamentally military and several times have people who do Bad Shit. dunno, still trying to figure out their place in this narrative other than convenient guns when we need guns. I want them to be more complicated if they come back for the next era, I'd be interested if shirley-ann bingham became a liz shaw type and really questions the limitations and biases that exist within UNIT

6- wait no, going back to point the first I'm soooo excited for the things they've hinted at, stories about gods are my whole damn jam, it's going to be amazing!

7- them playing the prime minister saying he doesn't care about anybody and donna goes "same as always" (or however she says it), listen, it's low-hanging fruit and I am eating it, anything dragging the british government and right wing sentiment is good and necessary for my soul personally

8- one really big Thing is no martha. will never get that closure RIP. argh though freema agyeman and ncuti gatwa could do great things together I think, cmon. one day

I'm sure more things will come up as I think about it, but off the top of my head

[chaifootsteps]

The issues with Stella are so goddamn easy to fix it's actually painful any time she comes on screen and they have to find a way to bend over backwards to make her as unlikable as possible to artificially prop Stolas up as well as avoid the classism plot that THEY WROTE INTO THE SHOW.

Just establish very clearly AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SHOW that both of them were okay with the other sleeping around (since neither liked each other and neither wanted to get married) but have Stella get mad specifically because Stolas was caught sleeping with an imp, and that reflects badly on her. If you want her to be a villain, you don't need her to be cartoonishly evil and completely bereft of personality and likeability beyond bitch (derogatory) even as a child; she can just be classist and obsessed with status. (Also maybe don't make her stupid? Maybe don't have her creepy incest-vibes brother around at all? Give her some agency as a villain, you know? Maybe let her be funny? MAYBE LET HER TALK TO HER FUCKING DAUGHTER ON SCREEN?)

But fixing Stella would force the show to actually acknowledge the classism that they've set up and have been trying to ignore in lieu of writing fluff one shots of their favorite ships. And it sucks because she could be a really, really interesting and entertaining lens into how the upper-crusts of this setting actually behave. She SHOULD HAVE BEEN the face of that plot. If you want her to be this evil scheming funny girlboss bitch (affectionate), LET HER BE ONE. Hell, she can even be sympathetic and redeemable if you play up the fact that her behavior comes from a fear of being othered by the Goetia.

As a side note, why are arranged marriages even a thing when divorce exists and vice versa? If it's a eugenics thing for blue bloods why is marriage even a factor when they could just have the kids without it? If they're immortal outside of specific weaponry why do they need heirs in the first place? How DID Striker get all of his angelic weapons? How did Stella even meet Striker, who HATES the upper classes? Why does Striker even work for her when she's the ONE CHARACTER explicitly shown in-canon to embody the things he hates about the system at large?

I guess my point is that fixing Stella's writing would kind of cascade out into actual worldbuilding, stakes, more screen time for female characters, and more coherent better-constructed plots so Spindlehorse won't do it because they want to focus exclusively on a middling romance between two characters who have ZERO CHEMISTRY. If they wanted to focus on that, great, but why on EARTH did they set up all of this other shit? Season one set up conflict and interest and season two has done nothing but blue-ball me by dangling those plot threads in front of me and yanking it away at the last possible second. I WANT the show to be good, but it desperately needs better editing at the script level which I am CONVINCED only goes through one draft and are written several weeks apart.

ALSO THE LATEST EPISODE GAVE ME MOTION SICKNESS WHY WAS THE CAMERA MOVING SO MUCH WHEN THE CHARACTERS WERE STATIC HOW MUCH BUDGET AND TIME GOT WASTED WITH THE UNNECESSARY FUCKING SHAKY CAM?

(Sorry for dropping this huge chunk of text on you, it was supposed to just be about Stella originally but holy fuck that last episode made me nauseous and I got a bit carried away.)

No apologies needed; it was an excellent chunk of text.

Stella deserved better, and we as an audience deserved better, which isn't to say she needs to be redeemable or even likeable. But she does need to be human...to do something outside of scream and drink wine and exist. She needs to do more than just prop up the show's main ship. Give her something she thinks about, cares about, and like you said, let her talk to her fucking daughter.

Nothing about this shaky-cam show makes sense or feels fleshed out. Agreed completely that there's no way it's going through multiple drafts, and the longer these 30 car pileups of plot holes and characterization problems continue to go on, the closer the show gets to a point where no amount of revising is going to save it.