#i don't have to acknowledge it and i don't want it to bother me and i wanna go back to just enjoying the show
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"Oh, right, three. I'm sorry." Peter had trouble keeping where most of the androids came from straight, but he tried his best as he didn't want to accidentally offend them. But that still didn't stop him from making mistakes on occasion that he felt he'd have to make up for, even if most of the androids understood that he was only human and an odd one at that.
"They're easier to care for as they need far less work. I can't say for sure if they deviate, but I'd have to say probably. It's just less noticeable as they still act like the animal they're based on. BeeBee is harmless though, sure she was aggressive to begin with, but that was just because Zlatko mutilated her and kept her locked up. She calmed down after I got her fixed back up, think she just needed proof I wasn't going to hurt her before she'd let her guard down." He didn't blame the URS12 for her initial aggression, she'd been through a very traumatic experience and was just acting accordingly as she didn't know he wasn't there to hurt her.
Peter brought his hand to his mouth, sticking two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp, short whistle. He knew G and BeeBee should be inside as Dan had likely taken Strasky for a walk around the property to calm him down, meaning Dan would take over watching for anything suspicious and G would take BeeBee inside for a break.
He lowered his hand as he heard the sound of claws rapidly clicking on the floor that were heading for the basement. He turned as BeeBee came to a halt in front of the room and sat down, chuffing and shaking her head. Peter motioned for her to enter the room as he knew she was waiting for permission. She quickly got up and jogged over to him, getting up on her hind legs as Daniel moved out of the way. She rubbed her nose against his as she made a purring sound, using her front legs to nudge him onto the ground, allowing her easier access to rub against him.
"They are furry, and BeeBee is just as fluffy as a polar bear should be. She usually is with G as he patrols the property, pretty good deterrent for anyone looking to cause trouble." Peter explained as he ruffled her neck. "She's not gonna hurt anyone unless given the command to do so, other then that she's a sweet heart." He gently coaxed her down so he could stand up again as Brent left the room to fetch more finished parts.
"Yeah, but don't point it out to them, they don't like that and I found that out the hard way." Not that it bothered him as he didn't get in trouble for the fight, the group had attacked him first and he had merely defended himself. He was just warned not to call out anymore protestors or acknowledge them if they tried to talk to him.
"Oh, nothing else. The computers should be it as we haven't come across any issues that can't be easily fixed." Sure they were still working on the space, but so far he couldn't name anything else that was obviously wrong that needed to be replaced.
"I don't, but I'm fine with it." He didn't understand why it was so important to the android, but he knew he needed to address Dan's overbearing protectiveness before it worsened.
"Maybe, but I wouldn't blame her if she still wanted nothing to do with me. I did threaten to kill her and jump off the roof with her, even held her out when the RK800 showed up to talk me down." Daniel wouldn't hold it against Emma if she never wanted to see him again after what he'd done to her. "And I find it interesting to deal with someone who's neurodivergent verses one that was perfectly normal." He didn't mind the change, in fact he found it to be a fun learning experience.
"He also really didn't want to be there as his goal was finding me, and being stuck on a rusty ship wasn't helping him accomplish that. And then to be dragged along occasionally or just hearing them planning something just added to his hatred of being there." Peter knew Dan understood it was best he hide as a deviant, but that didn't stop him from being upset about it.
"And finally reuniting with me and finding I lost an eye didn't do him any favors mentally. He deviated because he thought I was dead and had to find out if I was okay, so finding out I actually could've died well he was in the same city as me... Messed him up. I'm gonna see if we can fix that, he's getting very over protective because of that."
"There's three." the android corrected, "Three of us remain on the property."
"What's the point of android animals?" Rook asked, "Do they deviate too? Are they fuzzy at least? Can I pet BeeBee?"
"Rook."
"I want to pet a bear, Willow!"
Willow rolled her eyes, "Yes, the belief that the evil machines are stealing jobs is a myth that only serves the corporations. Unfortunately, most humans are too dense to understand they're considered on par with any other piece of equipment, thus are just as easily replaced by whatever is more cost effective."
So, trying to get the computers out of storage through semi legitimate means was most likely a lost cause. Willow resorted to sending a text instead. "Would you like to have everything delivered to this room?"
"I'm glad you understand now." It still didn't explain why Bishop specifically wanted his counterpart to fail, but that wasn't relevant to the android's argument as to why he felt the need to prevail.
It was a reasonable question, as far as he was concerned.
"Sometimes kids don't know better. Maybe she'll come around when she grows up and starts thinking with her brain." Rook told Daniel, "It's good that you found yourself new people to hang out with, even if one of them speaks in riddlesâ You've got something to add, Willow?"
"Oh, I was just thinking that Dan was right about most of Jericho's plans."
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This has been on my mind for a while and Iâm kinda surprised no body really wrote about it but could you please do one were reader basically gets into curlyâs ass about jimmy but it kinda leads into a lil heated argument you can chose if it ends on a good note also have a good morning, day or night đ
đđđđ, đđđđ, đđđ
đđđđđ đđđđđđđđđđđ - đđđđđđđ đđđđđ đ đđđđđđ
authorâs note sorry for the radio silence. iâve been suffering from writerâs block. working retail during the holidays will do that to you. anyway, enjoy this ficlet.
You were starting to wake. Through your eyelids, you noticed how the room around you began to brighten up. You let out a groan and turn onto your side before proceeding to tap your hand on the side where Curly normally sleptâŚand yet you felt nothing there. Your eyelids flick open in horror.
Curly's side of the bed was empty. You sit up, frantic. Where was he? You look at his dresser, then yours - no note. You scan the room and there isn't any sign that he's gone.
You scoot off the bed and go downstairs. As you descend, you can hear his voice. You follow it into the kitchen where you finally see him standing there, still in his boxers, one hand on his hip, and the other holding his phone against his ear. He looks frustrated, must be that pony job he always complains about.
Curly acknowledges you with a smile before focusing once again on his conversation. "No, that makes no sense! I already told you I was coming here!"
You walk up behind Curly and lean against his back. Your hands run up his torso, feeling up his pectorals and his abs.
âAlright, Jimmy,â he says.
Of course.
You pull away at the sound of that name. You didn't really like how Jimmy presented himself; there was a strange amount of jealousy from his end and he could just never be happy for others. There was already a mutual dislike for each other but your boyfriend, Curly being Curly, takes his job too seriously and lets it spill into his personal life. He thinks he can H.R. his way into making you and Jimmy friends or, at least, respect each other.
Curly hangs up and turns around to greet you. "Good morning, sweetheart." He lights up with these words, no sign of being bothered by his conversation. You decide not to say anything at first. If anything, you were a little annoyed - if he was going to wake up before you, you'd at least hope he'd go out on a run or maybe surprise you with a sweet treat or flowers. You open the fridge in search of something to eat. Milk, eggs, leftover pomegranate.
"Babe?" Curly's head pokes over the fridge. "I said good morning."
You decide to eat the pomegranate for breakfast. Wouldn't want it to go bad.
"I bet it is. How's your boyfriend?" you ask. Curly's face drops. You close the fridge and take a seat by the island counter.
"Hey, don't walk away from me. What's up with you?" he asks. You shoot him a look, then your eyes move to his phone. Curly eyes follow yours and it hits him once his eyes settle on his phone.
"Please don't start. Not this morning."
"Oh, so you're aware. Perfect!" You place your cut pomegranate back in the bowl. "My question is just why? Why do you give him so much...control?"
"Control? I am my own man, you know. Captain of my own ship." You must have hit a nerve because Curly normally doesn't get defensive like this. Using his title to make him seem better? Not a usual practice of his.
"You deliver shit! People at NASA get to brag about going to space to explore! You don't. So don't let your ego get in the way of me questioning your relationship with your idiot friend."
He was Persephone, Jimmy was Hades, and like Demeter, you only had Curly for the spring and summer.
You both stare intensely at each other for a moment and it was the 'let's just hop in the sheets and fuck it out' intensity. You both were genuinely pissed at each other.Â
"I'm going to step out," Curly says breaking the silence. He starts to make his way up the stairs. "Yeah, avoid the question of Jimmy, like you always do!" you yell at him.
"Shut up!" He's halfway up the stairs. Your head cocks back. "Did you tell me to shut up?" He's never spoken to you like that - you're not even sure he's spoken to anyone like that.
Curly realizes what he's just said and is equally as shocked by his own mouth. He rushes down the stairs and reaches out to you. When he's close, you turn your body away. "Hey..." he pleads.
"Curly...please go. Go anywhere. I don't know. Go call Jimmy or something. Just get out of my sight." You push your bowl of fruit away from you. Still refusing to face him, you continue, "I will not allow you to talk to me like that. Especially, especially, if we're talking about Jimmy. You must be out of your fucking mind."
He lingers before finally giving in. "Ok...I'll step out for a bit." Curly hesitantly places a hand on your back. You donât tell him off or recoil. âIâm sorry andâŚand I shouldnât have said that to you.â
Of course, he wasnât going to acknowledge the actual problem - Jimmy. So you choose to let it go because itâs all you can do. Curly gives you the day to yourself before coming home for dinner. A bouquet of your flowers and tons of kisses make up for the quarrel for now.
#captain curly#curly mouthwashing#captain curly x reader#curly x reader#mouthwashing x reader#curly x reader mouthwashing#black yn#black reader
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so glad you said that about Tobias because i was lowkey mad about how he treated caitlyn this season. obviously heâs grieving but like step it up as a dad a bit. his daughter is now burdened with so much, emotionally and professionally and he is so noticeably absent or withdrawn. i think he does blame caitlyn a lot more than we saw. i
its ironic that Cassandra was painted as this bitch and an almost unsupportive mom but i donât think thatâs true. of course we saw Tobias being kind and attentive in 1.08 but the other few scenes we had seen him in, Tobias was kind of a dick. Iâm thinking about his reaction after the incident at Jayceâs apartment. he seemed to be harsher than Cassandra about it.
i wouldnât be surprised if there was some resentment between cait and her dad for awhile. also Cait was always pretty isolated but then she lost her mom and her best friend and then her dad is emotionally absent. she was truly alone for awhile. cait and vi have been each others constants. i hope she can maintain some sort of friendship with Mel, girl could use it
this also got long but itâs something thatâs been bothering me too. if Tobias keeps being like that and is rude to vi, i kinda hope that Cait kicks him out - now that sheâs head of house lol
Truly, I get he's grieving, but the way there isn't even an ounce of concern for caitlyn. He undoubtedly blames her. And i think her saying "i had the shot" confirmed in his mind that even further.
Without that line he passively blames her for simply becoming affiliated with Vi, and by extension jinx, but with that line he actively puts the blame on cait.
She really was alone and people don't mention that or want to acknowledge that. To be alone while being surrounded is such an obscure feeling. Such a contrast to vi who is alone alone, if that makes sense.
They truly are each other's everything, and i don't mean that in a codependent way, but in a way of when they both have nothing the other is there.
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hiiiiâŚany chance you could write a gn!reader x wise fic where they are both pinning over each other? Take your time and donât rush, make sure to drink plenty of water! Thank you đ
Thank you for the reminder! I honestly only drink coffee when I write lmao. But I hope you enjoy this fic! I had some fun writing this, even if the idea mightâve gotten away from me eheâŚ
Note: Some small implication of mc!Belle
Warnings: none
âSeriously, when are you gonna just talk to them bro?â Belle asked out loud, not bothering to keep her voice down after watching the person, who Wise was obviously crushing on for months at this point, leave the siblingsâ store.
âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â He responded, giving her a look before turning back to restocking the shelves.
âOh please!â The bluenette almost screams, scaring the bangboo at the counter. âDonât think you can fool me with your âoh I have to check the back real quickâ trick! You do it every time theyâre here!â
âYouâre talking nonsense.â He sighed, pointedly keeping his focus on his âtaskâ.
âItâs not! Fairy, back me up!â
[Master is correct, I have noticed the pattern as well.] The AIâs voice resounds from the back. [I have also noticed the other behavioral pattern of Wise staring at the object of his affections when you both go outside and run across them.]
âWhat? I do not stare.â The male quickly turned his head to glare towards the backroom, though he knew the AI barely cared nor acknowledged him. Taking in another sigh, he just returned to placing the tapes in the box onto the empty shelves. âI donât understand why youâre so hung up on this.â
âBecause I want to see my brother happy?â Belle said, like it was the most obvious thing. She only got a head shake from the elder sibling, which made her huff in annoyance.
â
A few days later the bluenette had decided it was time to come up with a plan, one that they even secretly went over the probability of it working with Fairy. Even though said AI had told her it wasnât going to work, Belle decided to go forth with her weeks-long plan anyway. Said plan being to become friends with the âdreamy customerâ as she liked to tease her brother about since sheâs caught him daydreaming many times.
âHey!â She greeted as the person entered the store, receiving a smile back. âPerfect timing! I already got the movie set up in my room so just head up there while Iâm getting snacks.â
âAlright, thanks for inviting me.â They responded, though as they headed towards the stairs they looked back unsure. âI could help you know.â
âNah, I got it!â
âOkayâŚâ They quickly climbed up to the second floor, looking over at the two doors that greeted them. Luckily they had already been invited into her room multiple times before ever since the bluenette decided to open up a friendship with them. They were a bit shocked at first, but as the bluenette was insistent on hanging out with them, they slowly warmed up to the bubbly girl.Â
And while it wasnât their main reason, it was a nice bonus that the friendship caused them to run into her elder brother. Who they had formed a small crush on ever since they first came across the store. Though the good movies they had was their main reason for returning, having the opportunity to talk with him did not help with their crush festering. At least before they began to see less and less of him whenever they visited.
As they entered the girl's room, they gave the decor a once over. There wasn't any difference really, just some extra little trinkets they swear they haven't seen the last time they were here. But they didn't think about it too much before settling down on the couch, getting as comfortable as they could. They patiently waited for Belle to appear, occasionally looking over their socials. But soon a voice spoke up.
âI got all the snacks Belle, don't know why you asked me to head out to-â Wise began to speak, before freezing once he met eyes with them. In his arms were various bags of junk food snacks and bottles of different drinks. They froze as well, not expecting the male to enter the room.
The two stared at each other for a few moments before they heard Belle yell out from down below. âOh sorry! I forgot I had something with Nicole! Watch it without me!â
Before either could say or do anything, they heard a door slam shut. The two of them just stayed there staring at each other, not knowing what to do. After a few moments, the person decided to stand up from the couch.
âI-I can leave.â They quickly said, snapping the male out of his stupor. He only sighed, grumbling within his own head as he began to realize what his sister had just done.
âNo, it's fine. Would be rude of me to kick you out now.â He replied, stepping over towards the coffee table to get the food and beverages out of his arms. He could see them hesitate a tad, giving them a reassuring smile. âWe'll both just have to reprimand her for triple booking.â
They chuckled in response, relaxing a bit as they sat back down on the couch. Though this time they kept to themselves to the side so as to create enough space. âYeah. Oh, do you know what movie she picked? She never told me.â
âIt's supposed to be this new indie documentary movie that we just bought.â He explained, trying his best to remember what he read from the blurb. âWe usually watch the new stock before putting them on the shelf.â
âI see.â
The two stayed quiet for a bit, an awkward silence permeating through the air. Neither had any clue on how to truly talk to the other since they rarely had any opportunity to talk (thanks to Wise running away any chance he got, which heâs now regretting). Soon the male decided to start the movie.
As the film played the two watched on with very little commentary, not wanting to create another awkward silence. But occasionally Wise could hear the other mutter a small joke under their breath, causing him to smile a bit. Soon he began to respond with his own quips or opinions on the movie protagonistsâ actions and attitudes, leading the two to become more casual with each other. But soon even that died down as the both could feel the tension start to rise within the film, making the two of them on edge as the protagonists argued over their situation.
âY-You sure this is supposed to be a documentary?â They asked, their hands clutching onto their clothes a bit as the film began to show signs of something brewing behind the scenes. As more and more arguments began to sprung up within the filmâs group, their nerves began to rise. In some form of unconscious comfort, they shuffled a bit closer to Wise in hope of their nerves easing. They donât notice his own tenseness, nor the flinch he does once he realizes how much closer they were now.Â
âTh-Thatâs what I remembered.â He stuttered, racking his brain over any other explanation for what kind of movie he was watching. It was obvious he was watching some kind of suspense, but everything he remembered in the blurb. But a sudden hand grabbing made him jump in fright, causing him to look over to see the otherâs scared expression.
âS-Sorry! I-I just...â They explained, their words slurring with how fast they were talking. Their hands shook as they tried to will their grip to loosen from the maleâs jacket.
Wise took in a breath, calming his nerves before giving a small smile. âItâs okay.â
The two stayed silent for a moment, the lack of noise only heightened by the movieâs lack of sound as well. Before a sudden scream resounded from the film, scaring both young adults into moving closer and wrapping their arms around each other. They could feel the other shake, trying their best to silently comfort the other.
âW-We should change the movie...â
âY-YeahâŚâ
â
âGuys, Iâm back!â Belle called out, expecting to hear the two to start cussing her out for her stunt of leaving them alone to watch a horror movie. But she only raised an eyebrow at the lack of response, slowly walking towards her room to see what the two were doing. âThatâs weird.â
As she quietly opened her bedroom door, she gasped as she saw the sight before her. There right in front of her was her brother practically cuddling his crush as the two huddled together while they watched what looked to be a more family friendly documentary movie. It was loudly playing, quickly explaining why they didnât hear her. She smirked, seeing that her plan had seemed to work mostly. Quickly taking out her phone to take a picture, though she forgot to account for the shutter sound effect as it spooked the two.
âBelle!â Wise almost screamed, clearing his throat so as to not look even more scared. Though it was clear to everyone it wasnât working. Instead he just settled to give his classic upset big brother look. âDonât do that.â
âWhat? Iâm not doing anything~â She responded cheekily, only earning a harder look in response. âBesides you two seem to be having fun.â
âWell if it werenât for you leaving us with a horror film.â She heard her friend reply, also giving her a hard stare. Though it wasnât as serious as Wiseâs.
âIt was a horror film? Oops!â She chuckled nervously, as it was obvious no one believed her words. But as she placed herself onto the couch right next to the two she knew there weren't any hard feelings. âBut we can still continue the marathon if you want.â
âI think Iâm good for now, I should get home.â They said, slowly getting up. They werenât able to catch the small frown that formed on the maleâs face, but Belle was. They gave the siblings a small smile, grabbing a bag of candy. âBut Iâm taking these as revenge for that stunt.â
âWhat?! Hey, those are my favorites!â They didnât bother to respond to the womanâs words as they casually walked out of the room.Â
Though just as they reached the front door, a ping from their phone alerted them to a text. Checking it, they could see it was a text from the same womanâs room they just left. It was an image, the exact picture she took of them and Wise. They flushed as they began to realize just how it looked like they were cuddling, though they wanted to deny it since they were only trying to comfort the other from each otherâs paranoia. But they couldnât lie how cute it looked, scolding themselves in the head as they saved the picture.
Meanwhile Belle only smirked as the light scolding from Wise went in one ear and out the other. She could see that her friend had seen her message, but didnât reply. Just as she was about to open her mouth, the voice of Fairy could be heard.
[Master, while I still believe the theory isnât as plausible as you suggestedâŚ] The AI spoke, a small whirring hummed from below the siblingâs room. [By my calculations, the suspension bridge theory does seem to have some small merit.]
âNo no no! You are not getting a part in this!â Wise huffed, crossing his arms in frustration.
[But it is very clear that even after you both changed the movie genre, your heartbeats were still high.] Fairy countered. [The same average that is typically seen when individuals are near their subject of affection.]
âYou want me to send the picture to you?â She asked quickly, interrupting the male from his oncoming denial. She could see the gears turning in his head, resulting in him only sighing and turning away with an obvious blush on his face. âIâll take that as a yes.â
âShut up.â
#zenless zone zero x reader#zzz wise#zzz wise x reader#wise (zzz) x reader#zzz x reader#zenless zone zero#ending part feels shitty#but I didn't know how to end it#and I didn't want to make it too long
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college AU! stan x fem bodied YN
stan and yn are reallyyy close friends, like REALLY close, to the point of kissing eachother sometimes. at this point, him and wendy are not a thing (unless you do poly and we could get some poly action, if not thats fine) and stan and YN like eachother romantically. stan knows he likes them but hasn't come to terms with it, while YN themselves are oblivious to their OWN crush on him because they don't understand their own feelings most the time.
can YN also be a brat (like maybe kind of stuck up and prissy) and also be flirty with people they're comfortable with?
that personality leads me to this: stan snapping and ends up fucking them (maybe confrontational? like, holds their cheeks and asks them if they're even aware how they make him feel, so fuzzy, but also so so so mad! (in a good way of course)
can i have themes of dom/sub (dom stan/sub YN), brat taming, light degradation with heavy praise, impact play?(if you're not comfortable with this one thats fine, i was just thinking maybe spanking of the ass, thighs, and clit), edging, orgasm control, dacryphilia, overstimulation, heavy teasing, and overall just mean but also super soft stan?
thankss (if this request makes you uncomfortable then thats okay)
stan marsh x fem!reader insert (college au)
(âĽďšâĽ) | [A/N] ah my first request ever! this is kinda long for a request, but i wanted to make it special. i'm so sorry for butchering dom/sub dynamics, i haven't really written that yet. and jesus christ i made stan talk alot in this, and i really highlighted how he would definitely wear tons of bracelets for some reason LMAO. again this was a challenge for me bcus i usually write stan kinda softish and quiet. thank u again <3 there's a scene where stan just goes on his phone during the middle of it and i almost died writing it was so funny to me
(âĽďšâĽ) | [CW] p in v, fingering, p eating, dom/sub dynamics, dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation assholeish stan and reader, cartman is cartman
The room was dimly lit, illuminated mostly by the soft glow of Stanâs TV screen as he sat cross-legged on the floor, completely immersed in his game. Faint sounds of gunfire and laughter from Cartman and Kenny filtered through his headset. Stan leaned forward slightly, his hands gripping the controller tightly, his brows furrowed in concentration.
On the bed, you sighed loudly, barely glancing up from your phone as you continued scrolling through TikTok and Instagram. The endless feed of videos and posts did little to distract you from the heavy boredom pressing down on you.
You switched apps, opening Snapchat out of sheer desperation for something interesting. As you flipped through stories, your scrolling halted abruptly at one that made your stomach twist.
Bebe and Clyde were out on another date. The photo Bebe posted showed their hands intertwined across a table, captioned: âMy fave person đ.â
Your chest tightened, an uncomfortable heat settling there. You didnât know why it bothered you so muchâit wasnât like you were into Clyde or anything. Still, the jealousy gnawed at you, bitter and unshakable.
Shaking your head, you exited the app and glanced at Stan, who hadnât once looked in your direction despite your exaggerated sighs. He was totally engrossed in his game, his headset cushioning his ears and his focus glued to the screen.
âStan,â you called out, your voice edged with impatience.
No response. His lips twitched slightly, like he mightâve heard you, but he made no effort to acknowledge your call.
You huffed, tossing your phone onto the bed. If Stan wasnât going to pay attention to you willingly, youâd have to force his hand. Sliding off the bed, you walked up behind him and bent down, placing your hands lightly on his shoulders. Without hesitation, you slid into his lap, grinning as his body stiffened in surprise.
â[Y/N]âwhat the hell dude?â Stan sputtered, almost dropping his controller as he glanced down at you.
Cartmanâs voice blared through his headset. âSTAN, YOU DUMBASS! MOVE! YOU JUST GOT US KILLED!â
Stan groaned loudly, hastily muting his mic before turning his full attention to you. âIâm in the middle of a game!â he said, his tone exasperated.
You tilted your head, a playful pout forming on your lips. âYeah, well, Iâm bored,â you said, looping your arms around his neck. âWhy arenât you paying attention to me?â
Stan blinked, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and disbelief. âBecause Iâm playing with Cartman and Kenny? You knowâmy friends?â
âUh-huh,â you said, your voice dripping with faux innocence. âBut Iâm more important than Cartman and Kenny, arenât I?â
Stan stared at you, clearly unsure how to respond. His hands hovered awkwardly near your waist, his usual confidence suddenly replaced by uncertainty. âYouâre being weird,â he said finally, his blue eyes narrowing slightly.
A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned closer, your face only inches from his. âWeird? Youâre so dramatic.â
Before he could reply, you closed the small distance between you and pressed your lips to his, your chapstick leaving a faint, sweet taste behind as you kissed him. It wasnât unusual for you and Stan to kissâyour friendship had always had an element of playfulnessâbut this time felt different. The way your lips lingered a moment longer, the way your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie...
You pulled back, giggling softly at the stunned look on his face.
Stanâs jaw clenched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your hips firmed. His gaze burned with something intense, something unspoken that made your stomach flutter.
But then he exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line as he reached up and unmuted his mic. âIâm back,â he said curtly, his tone clipped as he picked up his controller and resumed his game.
You blinked, taken aback by his reaction. He didnât push you off, didnât say anything elseâjust continued playing as if you werenât still perched in his lap.
Cartmanâs voice crackled through the headset. âAbout time, dude. You literally lost us the game because you were being a dumbass.â
Stan didnât respond, his focus locked on the screen. His hands gripped the controller, his movements precise and deliberate, but you could feel the tension radiating from him.
You shifted slightly in his lap, testing his reaction, but he didnât budge. His jaw was still tight, his eyes fixed on the screen, though you caught the faintest twitch of his lips when you leaned in close and whispered teasingly, âAm I distracting you?â
Stanâs lips pressed into a firmer line, his knuckles whitening on the controller. âYouâre fine,â he said evenly, though the edge in his voice betrayed him. His blue eyes stayed locked on the screen, his jaw tight, clearly trying to pretend you werenât there.
Before he could stop you, you reached up and slipped the headset off his head.
â[Y/N], donât,â Stan muttered, his voice tense, but you ignored him, slipping the headset onto your own head and adjusting the mic with a sly smile.
âHey, idiots!â you chirped into the mic.
âOh, for fuckâs sake,â Cartman groaned immediately. âWhy the hell are you here? Donât you have something better to do, like annoying someone else or scamming free drinks with that dumb whore shit you pulll?â
âCartman, donât start,â Kenny chimed in, his tone amused. âSheâs just here to make sure Stan doesnât embarrass himself again.â
You laughed, leaning back in Stanâs lap and twirling the cord of the headset. âAw, Kenny, youâre my favorite. Cartmanâs just mad because he missed me.â
âI do not miss you,â Cartman snapped. âYouâre like a human migraine. Stan, can you tell your âfriendâ to fuck off so we can actually play?â
Stan muttered something under his breath, his hands hovering uselessly over the controller. âGive me the headset back, [Y/N].â
But you ignored him, turning your attention back to the game. âEric, donât lie. You love when Iâm around. It makes your miserable little life less boring.â
âYouâre so full of shit,â Cartman barked. âYouâre just here to mess with us. And Kennyâs a simp for eating this up.â
âYouâre right, I am,â Kenny said, laughing. âAt least sheâs fun. Unlike you, Cartman.â
âFuck you, Kenny!â Cartman shot back. âStan, seriously, can you control your fucking lap gremlin?â
Stan sighed heavily, his jaw clenching as he grabbed the headset off your head and slid it back on. His blue eyes bore into yours, his frustration clear. âEnough,â he said, his voice low and firm.
You blinked at him innocently, your lips twitching into a small smile. âWhat? I was just being nice.â
âNobody buys that,â Stan muttered, his hands settling firmly on your waist. âNot even you.â
âCome on, Iâm always nice,â you teased, your grin widening as you tilted your head.
Stan stared at you for a long moment, his blue eyes narrowing as though he were weighing his next move. Then, without a word, he unmuted his mic and picked up the controller again.
âIâm back,â he said flatly, his tone cold as he resumed playing.
âThank God,â Cartman grumbled. âSheâs insufferable. Get her out of here, Stan, or Iâm rage-quitting.â
âSheâs not that bad,â Kenny said with a laugh. âHonestly, sheâs more entertaining than watching Stan suck at this game.â
Stan ignored them both, his eyes glued to the screen, though you noticed the way his grip on the controller tightened.
You stayed perched in Stanâs lap as he continued to play, his focus unwavering despite your presence. The faint sound of gunfire and Cartmanâs incessant yelling filled the room, but your mind was elsewhere. Your fingers moved idly to his hair, combing through the strands and twisting them gently.
Stanâs bleached hair had grown out since you helped him with it, leaving a stark contrast between the blonde and his natural dark roots. You smiled faintly, remembering the day he let you bleach it in his bathroom. Heâd been skeptical at first, grumbling about how âCartmanâs gonna call me a wannabe TikTok e-boy.â
But when you revealed the final result, the look of surprise on his face had been worth every moment.
âHoly shit,â heâd muttered, running a hand through the freshly bleached strands.
âSee? Told you itâd look good dude,â youâd replied smugly. Then, on impulse, youâd pressed a kiss to his cheek, unable to stop yourself from smiling.
That kiss had been casual, friendly. At least, thatâs what you told yourself.
Your fingers stilled in Stanâs hair as the memory brought another one to the surfaceâthe first time youâd kissed him. It was at a party, the two of you leaning against a wall in some corner, slightly buzzed from cheap vodka. Someone had said something stupid, and youâd both dissolved into laughter.
And then, without thinking, youâd leaned in and kissed him.
It hadnât lasted longâjust a brief press of lips, fueled by alcohol and laughterâbut it had been enough to make your head spin. Stan hadnât pulled away. If anything, heâd leaned in slightly, like heâd been waiting for it.
But the moment passed, and neither of you brought it up again.
Kissing Stan had become familiar since then. It was just... something you did. A casual thing. Or at least, thatâs what you convinced yourself.
Your gaze shifted to his profile now, the faint concentration lines between his brows as he played. The glow from the screen lit up his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. You couldnât help but wonder: Did he ever think about those kisses? Did he feel the same pull you did, the strange comfort of it?
The thought made your chest tighten.
Do you like me?
The question lingered in your mind, unspoken and heavy. Stan had always been a constant in your lifeâsteady, dependable, the one who tolerated your bratty tendencies without complaint. But did he like you?
And more importantly... did you like him?
Your fingers resumed their gentle movement in his hair, your heart beating a little faster as you struggled to untangle your thoughts. Kissing Stan didnât feel like it should mean anything. But lately, you couldnât stop wondering if it did.
âYou okay dude?â Stanâs voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. He didnât look at you, his eyes still on the screen, but the concern in his voice was clear.
âYeah,â you said quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. âJust... thinking.â
Stan nodded, his expression unreadable. âYouâre quiet.â
You let out a soft laugh, brushing your fingers through his hair one last time before resting your hands on his shoulders. âGuess Iâm just tired.â
âMm-hmm,â Stan muttered, clearly unconvinced, but he didnât press further.
You leaned back slightly, watching him play, the weight of your thoughts settling heavily in your chest.
You shifted slightly in Stanâs lap, your fingers still playing with his hair when your phone buzzed on the bed. The sudden noise made you glance over, and Redâs name lit up the screen.
âOh, hold on, itâs Red,â you said, slipping off Stanâs lap. He didnât respond, just kept his eyes glued to the game.
You grabbed your phone, swiping to answer as you perched on the edge of Stanâs desk.
âHey, Red!â you greeted, your voice instantly bright and flirty.
âAbout time,â Red said, her tone teasing. âSo, are you gonna tell me why youâve been off the grid? And donât say itâs because youâre studying babeâI know better.â
You laughed, glancing at Stan out of the corner of your eye. âOh, you know me. Always finding ways to entertain myself. Iâm at Stanâs dorm right now.â
Red let out a dramatic gasp. âStan? Again? Wow, you two might as well move in together at this point.â
Stanâs fingers faltered briefly on the controller, but he didnât look away from the screen.
âRight? Itâs like weâre married already,â you joked, leaning back and toying with the edge of Stanâs desk.
Red cackled. âGod, you two are so weird. Whatâs he doing? Ignoring you like always?â
âYup,â you said, your voice dripping with fake indignation. âHeâs playing his stupid game. As usual.â
Stan adjusted his headset slightly, the earcups slipping off one ear now. He didnât say anything, but you could tell he was listening.
âHonestly,â you continued, keeping your tone light, âitâs kind of tragic how bad he is at multitasking. Like, he can only focus on one thing at a time. I bet if I disappeared, he wouldnât even notice until he lost the match.â
Red let out a snort. âCome on, [Y/N]. Give him some credit. Heâs not that bad. And youâre always hanging around him anyway, so clearly heâs doing something right.â
âEh,â you replied, smirking. âHeâs tolerable. Most of the time.â You glanced at Stan again, noting the way his jaw tightened slightly.
âAnd?â Red prompted. âWhat about when heâs not tolerable?â
You grinned mischievously, the words spilling out before you could stop yourself. âWhen heâs not tolerable? I donât know. Maybe Iâll just trade him in for someone better.â
Stan froze. His hands stopped moving, and the room went silent except for the sound of Cartman and Kenny yelling through his headset.
âWhat the hell is that supposed to mean?â Red asked, her voice curious but amused.
Before you could answer, Stan stood abruptly, pulling off his headset and letting it rest on the chair. He crossed the room in three long strides, his presence making the small dorm feel even smaller.
âRed, Iâll call you back,â you said quickly, hanging up before she could respond.
Stan loomed over you now, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. He reached past you and pressed the power button on his PS5, the room falling into silence as the screen went black.
âWhat the fuck was that?â he asked, his voice low but tight with frustration.
You blinked up at him, playing innocent even as your heart raced. âWhat was what?â
âDonât play dumb, [Y/N],â Stan said, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. âThat shit you said to Red. What the hell was that about?â
Stan stared down at you, his blue eyes sharp as he waited for an explanation. You leaned back slightly against the desk, tilting your head innocently as you blinked up at him.
âWhat?â you said, feigning confusion. âI was just talking to Red about how youâre my bestest friend in the whole world.â You clasped your hands together dramatically, flashing him a teasing grin. âShe loves hearing about how much I adore you.â
Stanâs jaw clenched, his brows furrowing deeper. âYour âbestest friend,â huh?â he repeated, his tone skeptical, edged with something darker. âBecause thatâs exactly how it sounded.â
You shrugged, letting out a playful laugh. âI mean, come on, Stan. Red knows youâre my favorite. I was just hyping you up, obviously.â
âHyping me up?â His voice was low, incredulous. âYou told her youâd trade me in for someone better.â
You waved a dismissive hand, still playing up your act. âOh, that? That was just a joke. You know I didnât mean it.â
Stan stepped closer, his hands braced on either side of you against the desk. The space between you disappeared, and his intense gaze locked onto yours. âDo you ever think before you open your mouth?â he asked, his voice calm but heavy with tension. âOr do you just say shit for the fun of it?â
The teasing grin faltered on your lips for a split second before you forced it back into place. âRelax, Marsh,â you said lightly, though your pulse quickened under the weight of his stare. âYouâre taking this way too seriously.â
Stanâs head tilted slightly, his jaw tightening as he studied you. âAm I?â he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less commanding. âBecause itâs starting to feel like youâre trying to get a rise out of me.â
Your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to let it show. âMe?â you said with mock innocence, batting your lashes. âWhy would I ever do that?â
Stan didnât answer right away. His eyes flickered down to your lips briefly before meeting your gaze again, the tension between you crackling like static electricity. His presence was overwhelming, and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close he was, how his body practically boxed you in against the desk.
âYouâre unbelievable,â he muttered finally, his voice low and rough.
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. For once, the teasing remark you had ready in your head didnât make it past your lips. The intensity in Stanâs eyes held you in place, your heart pounding in your chest as the air between you grew heavier.
The silence stretched between you, heavy and unrelenting, as you blinked up at Stan, trying to piece together what exactly had him so worked up. Sure, youâd teased him plenty of times beforeâthis wasnât newâbut something about tonight was different. He wasnât just annoyed; he was genuinely mad, and it caught you off guard.
âStan,â you said, your voice softer now, though still carrying that teasing edge. âWhy are you so mad? Weâre friends. We do this all the time!â
Stanâs brows knit together, his jaw tightening as he took a slow breath. âFriends,â he repeated, his voice low and almost to himself, like he was testing how the word felt on his tongue. He leaned back slightly, straightening up, but his hands stayed braced on the desk, keeping you effectively trapped. âYou really donât get it, do you?â
âGet what?â you asked, tilting your head in genuine confusion. âWe joke around like this all the time. Why is it such a big deal tonight?â
Stanâs blue eyes flicked over your face, searching for something, but whatever he was looking for, he didnât seem to find it. He let out a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his bleached hair, his fingers catching in the grown-out roots. âJesus Christ, [Y/N],â he muttered, his voice tight. âYou canât justââ
He stopped himself, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he visibly struggled to keep his cool. For a moment, he looked like he was going to let it go, like he was going to step back and walk away from whatever was eating at him. But then his gaze snapped back to yours, and you saw the flicker of something raw and unresolved in his eyes.
âYou donât even realize what you do to me,â he said finally, his voice quiet but heavy, each word carefully measured.
Your breath hitched, the weight of his words hitting you like a freight train. âWhat I do to you?â you echoed, your brows furrowing as you tried to process what he was saying. âStan, Iââ
âYou donât get to act like this doesnât mean something,â he interrupted, his tone sharper now, though his voice never rose above a low murmur. âYou donât get to sit in my lap, kiss me whenever you feel like it, say the shit you just said to Red, and then turn around and call me your âbestest friend.ââ He spat the last words with a bitterness that made your chest tighten.
âI thought we were just... I mean, thatâs just how we are,â you stammered, the confusion in your voice genuine. âWe always mess around like that. Itâs notââ
âItâs not just messing around for me,â he cut in, his voice breaking slightly at the end. He took a step closer, closing the gap between you again, his hands moving to grip the edge of the desk on either side of you. âI donât think you even understand what the fuck youâre doing to me, [Y/N]. How you make me feel.â
Your heart was racing now, the weight of his words sinking in but not fully connecting in your mind. âStan,â you said softly, your voice trembling. âI didnât mean to make you feelââ
âYou make me feel like Iâm losing my goddamn mind,â he said, his voice strained, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. âYou waltz in here, act like you own the place, and... fuck. You make me feel so much, and then you just brush it off like itâs nothing. Like itâs some fucking game.â
Your lips parted, but no words came. Youâd never seen Stan like thisâso raw, so vulnerableâand it left you reeling. You didnât know what to say, didnât know how to explain that you hadnât meant to hurt him, that you hadnât even realized you were doing it.
âI... I didnât know,â you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.
Stanâs eyes were sharp and unwavering, his frustration palpable as he leaned closer, boxing you in against the desk. âYou didnât know?â he echoed, his voice low and edged with disbelief. âReally? So, what about all those times you kiss me out of nowhere? Like at that party last month, when you were drunk and decided to make me your personal fucking experiment.â
Your heart raced, and your lips parted to defend yourself, but he didnât give you a chance. He pressed on, his tone growing sharper. âOr what about when you sat in my lap at Kennyâs place during movie night and kept playing with my hair? You acted like it was nothing, like it didnât mean a damn thing, even though everyone was staring.â
âItâs just how I am,â you said defensively, your voice trembling as you tried to process the weight of his words. âYou know that! I didnât mean anything by it. Itâs just... itâs just fun.â
âFun?â he repeated, his jaw tightening as he let out a bitter laugh. âDude, do you even hear yourself? You sit here, playing with me like Iâm some toy, and you call it fun? Like it doesnât fuck me up every single time you do it?â
âI didnât realizeââ you began, but he cut you off again, stepping closer until his face was inches from yours.
âOf course you didnât,â he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. âBecause you donât think. You donât stop for one goddamn second to think about how the shit you do might affect me.â
The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The air between you was heavy, charged with a tension you couldnât name, and for the first time, you didnât know how to talk your way out of it.
Stanâs gaze softened just slightly, though the frustration in his eyes didnât fade. âYou canât keep doing this, [Y/N],â he said quietly, his voice raw. âYou canât keep acting like this is nothing, like Iâm nothing.â
Your chest tightened, and you felt your breath hitch as the gravity of his words sank in. âStan,â you whispered, your voice trembling, âI didnât know you felt this way. I didnât mean to hurt you.â
He stared at you for a long moment, his blue eyes searching yours for somethingâan answer, an apology, a sign that you understood. But all he found was confusion and guilt, and it made his shoulders tense even more.
âI donât think you even know what you want,â he said finally, his voice softer now but laced with frustration. âAnd maybe thatâs the problem.â
The silence was suffocating, your chest tight with a mix of emotions you didnât fully understand. Stanâs words hung heavy in the air, but something about themâsomething about the way he said you didnât know what you wantedâset you off.
Your brows furrowed, and you straightened up, leaning closer to him, your voice sharp as you snapped, âExcuse me? You think you know me so well, Stan? That I donât know what I want? Maybe youâre the one who doesnât have a clue.â
Stanâs eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he stared at you. âWhat the hell is that supposed to mean?â he asked, his tone low and simmering with barely restrained anger.
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him. âIt means you donât get to stand there and act like youâve got it all figured out while calling me out for being confused. Maybe youâre just pissed because youâre too scared to deal with your own feelings.â
Stanâs lips pressed into a thin line, his blue eyes darkening as he took a step closer to you. The tension between you crackled like a live wire, and for a moment, you thought he was going to say something. Instead, he closed the distance in a single, deliberate motion, his hand gripping your wrist as he pulled you toward him.
âStanââ you started, but the words were cut off as his other hand cupped the back of your head, dragging you into a searing kiss.
It wasnât soft or tentativeâit was fierce, overwhelming, and commanding, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that left you breathless. Your body instinctively leaned into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as the world seemed to tilt on its axis. His grip on you was firm, grounding, and you could feel the frustration and need pouring out of him in every movement.
Your heart raced, your head spinning as you pulled away from him. âStanââ
âStop,â Stan interrupted, his tone sharp as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the bed. âYou donât get to play dumb about this. Not anymore.â
Your back hit the mattress before you could say a word, his body towering over you as he leaned down, his bracelets clinking faintly with the movement. His bleached hair fell into his eyes, messy and slightly damp with sweat, and his tan skin glowed in the low light of the room. His hands framed your face, steady but firm, his thumbs brushing over your warm cheeks as his intense gaze locked onto yours.
âYouâve been screwing with my head for months,â he started, his voice low but taut with emotion. âKissing me like itâs no big deal, running your hands all over me, batting your damn eyelashes like... like you donât know exactly what youâre doing.â His jaw clenched, and he shook his head slightly, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
Your breath hitched, your lips parting to speak, but Stan didnât give you the chance. âDonât even try to tell me itâs âjust you being you,ââ he pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly. âYou donât get it, do you? How much you get to me.â
His lips crashed into yours, silencing whatever excuse or explanation was forming in your head. The kiss was heated, desperate, and when he pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his face inches from yours. A string of saliva broke between you as he spoke, his voice quieter now but no less intense. âYou make me feel insane, [Y/N]. Like I donât know which way is up.â
Your eyes widened as he cupped your cheek more firmly, his thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth. His brow furrowed, and his voice softened, tinged with an almost hesitant vulnerability. âHave you even thought about it? What itâs like to be me? To deal with thisâdeal with you?â
You opened your mouth, unsure of what to say, but Stan wasnât finished. He shook his head, running a hand through his messy bleached hair and laughing humorlessly. âYouâre so fucking clueless. You act like itâs nothing, like it doesnât matter. But it does. It matters to me.â
His words hit you hard, a swirl of emotions rising in your chestâguilt, confusion, and something deeper that you hadnât yet put a name to. âStan...â you started, your voice trembling, but he cut you off again, his hand moving to gently grip your jaw, keeping your attention fixed on him.
âYou make me feel so good sometimes,â he admitted, his voice raw and quieter now, almost like it was a confession. âLike... like nothing else in the world matters. But then you turn around, and itâs like youâre trying to drive me insane.â
Your chest tightened as you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. The intensity of his words, the sheer weight of his emotionsâit was overwhelming. But there was no mistaking the honesty in his gaze, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.
He sighed, his frustration ebbing slightly, replaced with something softer. âYou donât get it, do you?â he said, shaking his head again, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. âYou donât even realize what you do to me.â
âI...â You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper, the words you wanted to say slipping through your grasp. You didnât know how to explain what you feltâdidnât even know if you understood it yourself.
Stan gave a soft, almost exasperated laugh, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. âOf course you donât,â he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of fondness and frustration. âYou never do.â
He leaned in, his forehead brushing against yours as his breathing steadied, his hand still cradling your cheek. âBut youâre gonna figure it out, [Y/N]. Youâre gonna figure it out real soon.â
Before you could respond, Stan leaned in again, his lips pressing against yours with a raw urgency that caught you off guard. His hand on your cheek softened, but his other arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as if he couldnât stand even an inch of distance. His bracelets clinked softly with the movement, grounding the moment in the quiet tension of the room.
His lips moved with an intensity that made your head spin, and he groaned low against your mouth, the sound sending heat coursing through you. But as his hand slid lower, you broke the kiss, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. Stanâs brows furrowed instantly, frustration flashing in his blue eyes as you sat back, a little too smug for his liking.
âWhat now?â he asked, his voice sharp but low, like he was already bracing himself for whatever nonsense you were about to pull.
You tilted your head, your fingers playing idly with the hem of his t-shirt. âWow, Stan,â you started, your tone saccharine and laced with mockery. âI didnât know you were so desperate. Did I mess up your game that badly?â
His jaw ticked, the muscle flexing as he let out a short, humorless laugh. âShut up,â he muttered, shaking his head. His hands rested on his hips for a moment, his bracelets sliding down his forearms, before he leaned in, his expression darkening.
âNo, seriously,â you continued, undeterred, your teasing grin widening. âDo I need to apologize to Cartman and Kenny? Tell them their carry bailed âcause you couldnât handle a little distraction?â
Stanâs patience snapped. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, and before you could react, he yanked it over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. The motion left you momentarily stunned, blinking up at him as he loomed over you.
âStan!â you gasped, more surprised than offended. âWhat the hellââ
âYou wanted my attention?â he cut you off, his voice low, the edge in it sending a jolt through you. âWell, youâve got it. So go ahead. Say whatever smart-ass thing you were about to.â
Your heart raced as his hands returned to your waist, his grip firm but not rough, pulling you closer. His expression was unreadable, a mix of annoyance, desire, and something deeper that made your stomach twist. The way his messy bleached hair framed his face, the soft flush on his tan skin, and the glint of his bracelets as he adjusted his gripâeverything about him right now was so painfully, undeniably Stan, and it made your head spin.
You tried to think of something witty, something sharp, but the intensity in his gaze stole the words from your mouth. Sensing your hesitation, Stan let out a soft, dark chuckle, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. âThatâs what I thought,â he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
As if to emphasize his point, his hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but deliberate as his fingers grazed over the lace of your bra. His lips dipped to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that left you shivering. When his teeth scraped lightly against your pulse point, you let out a soft moan, your nails digging into his arms.
âYou think youâre so funny,â he muttered against your skin, his tone carrying just a hint of exasperation. âAlways running that mouth, always pushing me. But when it comes down to it...â
Before you could respond, he pinched lightly at your side, just enough to make you gasp. The sound seemed to satisfy him, and his lips curved into a grin as he kissed his way down your neck. âYou never know when to quit, do you?â he added, his voice softer now, almost like he was teasing himself more than you.
âIââ You tried to speak, but your voice faltered as his lips found the edge of your bra, his breath warm against your skin. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips as he pressed you back into the mattress, the weight of him anchoring you in place.
âYouâre always so damn smug,â he continued, his tone quiet but sharp. His hand moved to cup your cheek again, tilting your head slightly so his lips hovered just over yours. âBut you donât have a clue what youâre doing, do you?â
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing from the heat in his words and the way his touch seemed to set your skin alight. âStan...â you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.
âShh,â he interrupted, brushing his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. âI donât want to hear it. Youâve said enough.â His smirk softened slightly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something vulnerable in his expression. âNow itâs my turn.â
Stan pulled his hand away from your mouth, his fingers brushing the strap of your bra as he met your gaze. His expression was sharp, almost unreadable, but there was something deliberate in the way his hand slid to your shoulder, gently pushing the strap down. He moved with an almost casual precision, like he wasnât just savoring the moment but making damn sure you knew he was in control.
His lips found your neck again, his kisses slow and deliberate as the other strap slid down your arm. You shivered, the cool air against your skin making you hyperaware of every single touch, every bit of pressure from his hands. When his fingers reached the clasp of your bra, he hesitated just long enough to send your heart racing.
âYouâre so quiet all of a sudden,â he muttered near your ear, his voice low and full of teasing disbelief. âWhat happened to all the shit you were saying earlier?â
Your cheeks burned, and before you could retort, he unhooked the clasp with an ease that made your breath hitch. He let the lace fall away like it was nothing, his hands immediately cupping your chest. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, his touch surprisingly tender for a momentâuntil he gave a sharp, calculated pinch that made you gasp.
âYeah,â he said, his lips twitching into a smirk as he watched your back arch instinctively. âThatâs what I thought.â
His grip stayed firm, his thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks of your chest as his lips trailed along your jaw, hot and deliberate. âAll that attitude,â he murmured, the words spilling against your skin. âAnd now? Not a damn word.â
The heat in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldnât stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips when he pinched again, rolling your skin between his fingers with just enough pressure to have you squirming under him.
He chuckled at your reaction, the sound low and rough as his lips made their way down to your collarbone. âDoes this feel good?â he asked, the mock sweetness in his tone making your stomach twist in the best way.
You tried to form words, but all you managed was a breathy moan. His smirk deepened, his blue eyes flashing with a mix of satisfaction and that familiar intensity that made your chest tighten.Â
His hands started to move, one sliding down your side with an almost lazy kind of purpose. His fingers brushed over your waist before dipping under the waistband of your panties. He paused there, just teasing the fabric, the rough pads of his fingers grazing your skin.
âLook at you,â he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk as his thumb toyed with the hemline. âAll that confidence, all that fireâand now youâre just laying here, waiting for me to decide what happens next.â
Your breath hitched as his fingers dipped lower, brushing close enough to make your thighs tense. âStan,â you whispered, your voice shaky, âplease...â
His laugh was soft but laced with a kind of smug triumph that made your cheeks flush. âThatâs better,â he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he let his fingers skim just a little closer to where you needed him. âSee? You donât always have to run your mouth.â
Your body arched toward him instinctively, the anticipation driving you mad, but his movements stayed deliberate, controlled. âMaybe youâre finally figuring out how this works,â he continued, his tone equal parts teasing and sharp. âOr maybe youâre just that desperate.â
Stanâs fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with an almost lazy slowness. The fabric slid down your thighs, the cool air biting against your heated skin as he tossed them aside without a second thought. His movements were deliberate, but there was nothing showy about itâhe just knew exactly what he was doing.
He shifted back, the bed creaking slightly as he knelt on the floor in front of you. The sight made your stomach flipâa mix of nervousness and something much hotter. Propped up on your elbows, you stared down at him, your breath catching as the full picture came into view.
His messy bleached hair framed his face, dark roots peeking through like a signature Stan moveâhalf careless, half effort. His lips, swollen and pink from earlier, twitched faintly into a smirk that was both boyish and entirely too knowing. His band t-shirt clung to his chest, the faded logo stretching every time he breathed, and his gray sweatpants hung just low enough to show a hint of the waistband of his boxers. The bracelets circling his wristsârandom, colorful, maybe from some flea marketâclinked lightly as he moved, his hands sliding up your thighs.
Stan leaned in, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your inner thigh. The warm graze of his breath against you sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldnât stop the way your hips shifted forward, searching for more contact.
âSeriously?â you teased breathlessly, your voice cracking slightly but still laced with a hint of defiance. âYouâre really gonna drag this out?â
His hands froze for a moment, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. His blue eyes burned, sharp with amusement, but there was a glint of something darker tooâsomething that made your stomach twist. A slow, almost smug grin spread across his face.
âStill talking, huh?â he drawled, his voice low, edged with dry humor. âBold of you, considering where you are right now.â
Before you could even think of a comeback, his fingers caught the lace of your panties and yanked them to the side with deliberate force. The motion left you exposed, and the cool air against your heated skin made you gasp.
Stan leaned in closer, his breath warm as it ghosted over your most sensitive spot. His gaze locked onto yours, and his smirk widened slightly, like he knew exactly how wrecked you were about to be.
âGuess Iâll have to shut you up,â he murmured, his voice low and rough. Then his mouth was on you.
The sensation sent a jolt of white-hot pleasure straight through you, your head tipping back against the bed as you let out a broken cry. His tongue moved slowly at first, tracing over you with an infuriating precision that made you squirm beneath him.
But when you tried to shift your hips, his hands clamped down on your thighs, holding you firmly in place.
âDonât,â he said against your skin, his voice muffled but firm, sending vibrations through you. âYouâre staying right where I want you.â
You whimpered, your nails digging into the sheets as his tongue worked you over. The wet heat of his mouth was relentless, alternating between gentle flicks and firm, lingering strokes that left you trembling. When he slid a finger inside you, slow and deliberate, your hips jerked against his hold despite yourself.
âStanâfuck,â you gasped, your voice breaking as your chest heaved.
He chuckled softly, his fingers curling inside you in a way that made your head spin. âThatâs what I thought,â he said, his voice filled with quiet confidence. âNot so mouthy now, huh?â
The mix of his teasing tone and his rough hands left you breathless, every nerve in your body alight. Just as the pleasure started to build, his thumb brushed over your clit, adding pressure in a way that had your thighs trembling.
You moaned loudly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming. And then his other hand moved sharply, pinching you directly on your clit.
âShitâStan!â you cried, your voice high and breaking as your body jerked from the sudden mix of pleasure and pain.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at you with that same infuriating smirk, his lips glistening, his blue eyes lit with mischief. âWhatâs wrong?â he asked, his tone mocking but light, as though this was all a joke to him. âYouâve got all the energy to sass me, but now youâre falling apart? Thatâs cute.â
His fingers stayed inside you, his movements unrelenting as he dragged you closer to the edge with maddening precision. Your hands fisted the sheets, your body arching toward him despite the overwhelming sensations.
âStan, pleaseââ you whimpered, your voice trembling as tears pooled in your eyes.
ââPlease,ââ he mimicked softly, his voice laced with sarcasm. âThatâs new.â His teeth grazed your thigh in a brief nip, and you let out another sharp cry.
Stanâs bracelets clinked faintly as his grip on you tightened, his hands firm against your skin as he kept you pinned exactly where he wanted. The sight of himâhis messy bleached hair, his sharp jawline, his flushed faceâburned itself into your memory, a perfect mix of control and smug satisfaction.
âDonât stop,â you managed to choke out, the words barely audible between gasps.
âDonât worry,â he said, his voice dipping into something darker, his lips brushing against the inside of your thigh. âIâm not stopping until Iâve got exactly what I want.â
Your breath hitched, and you couldnât even think of a response. His mouth returned to you, his tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem as he pushed you higher and higher. The lingering sting of his pinch only heightened the sensations coursing through your body, leaving you a trembling mess.
Stan's tongue worked you with an intensity that left you breathless, each flick and swirl sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. When he added another finger, sliding it in with the same slow, deliberate motion as before, the stretch left you gasping.
"StanâahâIâm so close," you managed to whimper, your voice trembling as tears began to pool at the corners of your eyes. Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you clutched the sheets beneath you.
You sniffled, overwhelmed by the sensations, your head tipping back as your thighs quivered against his grip. "Iâmâoh, GodâStan, Iâm gonna come," you cried out, your voice cracking with desperation.
Stanâs mouth continued, his tongue teasing you with relentless precision while his fingers curled inside you, pushing you closer to the edge. You felt the pressure building, your entire body tensing as the release hovered just within reach.
And then he stopped.
Stanâs lips hovered over your inner thigh for a moment, his breath warm against your skin, before he pulled back entirely. His fingers left you aching and empty, and the absence was immediate and devastating. Your thighs trembled as you shifted, trying to seek out the friction you desperately needed, but Stanâs hands stopped you with a firm, grounding grip.
âNot yet,â he said, his voice low and steady, with a soft edge of finality that left no room for argument.
Your eyes widened, tears slipping freely now, as you whimpered, âStan, please⌠I canâtââ
âYou can,â he interrupted calmly, leaning back and sitting on his heels as he looked at you with a mix of frustration and quiet amusement. âYouâll survive. Trust me.â
Your chest heaved as you stared at him, every nerve in your body screaming for relief, but Stan only sighed softly, shaking his head. His messy, bleached hair fell into his eyes again, and he shoved it back carelessly before gripping the hem of his t-shirt.
Before you could say anything else, he tugged the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. The motion revealed the toned lines of his chest and the faint tan that trailed down to the waistband of his sweatpants. His silver chain glinted against his skin, catching the dim light, and you couldnât help but stare.
Stan raised an eyebrow, catching your gaze as he rested his forearms on his knees, casual but commanding. âYouâre staring,â he said softly, his lips curving into a faint smirk.
Your throat felt dry as you tried to find your voice, but all that escaped was a soft whimper. Your hands clenched into the sheets beneath you, and the heat pooling in your stomach twisted painfully as you realized he had no intention of letting you off the hook.
âYouâll live,â Stan muttered again, his tone quiet but deliberate as he stood, giving you one last glance before turning toward his dresser. The lack of attention left you buzzing with frustration and need, but he didnât seem to careâhe was in complete control, and you were left to grapple with the fact that he intended to keep it that way.
Stan walked to his dresser with a lazy confidence, the kind that only made the heat pooling in your stomach worse. More of the hemline of his boxers showed now, and the muscles in his back shifted subtly as he grabbed his phone from the edge of the dresser. He scrolled aimlessly, his bracelets jangling faintly with each movement.
You stared, your breaths shallow, thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to calm the ache heâd left behind. He wasnât even looking at you, completely unfazed, like he hadnât just wrecked you moments ago. It made your chest twistâpart frustration, part something you didnât want to name.
âStan,â you croaked, your voice cracking slightly, and he didnât even flinch.
He scrolled for another beat, finally glancing over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow arching lazily. âWhat?â His tone was flat, indifferent, like youâd just interrupted him during an uneventful Tuesday.
Your lips parted, but nothing came out. You hated how small his lack of reaction made you feel, like the electric tension between you was entirely one-sided.
âIâŚâ you started, but your gaze flicked down to his chest, to the light tan that lingered across his skin and the faint ridge of muscle beneath it. You swallowed hard, trying to piece together your thoughts, but the sight of him standing thereâ messy-haired, and so effortlessly unaffectedâwas enough to scramble everything in your head.
Stan sighed like you were being difficult and turned back to his dresser. His hand rifled through the top drawer, and when he pulled back, the foil wrapper of a condom glinted under the soft light.
Your stomach dropped, your body buzzing as he set the condom casually on the dresser, next to his phone. He leaned one arm against the edge, crossing his other hand over his chest, bracelets sliding slightly down his forearm as he glanced back at you.
âYou gonna say something, or just keep staring like that?â he said finally, his lips quirking into a faint, cocky smirk.
Your cheeks burned, and you squirmed against the sheets, the ache between your legs sharpening as he stood there, fully in control. âI wasnât staring,â you mumbled, barely convincing even yourself.
âRight,â Stan said, dragging the word out as he looked back at his phone, tapping the screen lazily. âSure seemed like it from here.â
The way he brushed you off, so casual and maddening, made the knot in your chest tighten. Your eyes darted to the condom on the dresser, and the implications made your head spin. âWhyâd youââ You stopped yourself, biting your lip as frustration prickled at the back of your neck.
âWhyâd I what?â Stan drawled, not even bothering to look up this time.
âY-youâŚâ you faltered again, unsure if it was the tension in your chest or the growing need burning through your veins that had you so tongue-tied.
Stan finally turned, leaning fully against the dresser now, his arms crossed as he looked at you with a mix of amusement and exasperation. His bleached hair was a mess, dark roots peeking through as a few strands fell into his eyes. He shoved them back with one hand, his bracelets clinking faintly before crossing his arms again.
âYouâve been running your mouth all night,â he said, tilting his head slightly as he looked you over. âNow youâve got nothing to say? Figures.â
You squirmed under his gaze, the heat in your cheeks spreading as you gripped the sheets tightly beneath you.
His smirk deepened, sharp and knowing. âCâmon, [Y/N], spit it out,â he said, his voice low and edged with sarcasm. âYouâre looking at me like Iâve got all the answers.â
Your chest tightened, every nerve in your body buzzing as your lips parted again, but the words refused to form. The weight of his gaze, the way his tone was almost mocking but not cruelâit all left you reeling.
âI donât know,â you whispered finally, the admission feeling heavier than it should.
Stanâs expression softened, just slightly, but his smirk didnât fade. âYeah, I got that much,â he said, his voice quieter now but still cutting. His sharp blue eyes lingered on you for a moment, reading you like an open book.
You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in your chest again as the knot of frustration and need twisted tighter. You glanced at the condom on the dresser again, and your voice broke as you murmured, âWhyâd you grab that?â
Stan raised an eyebrow, his smirk shifting into something closer to amusement. âWhy do you think?â he said plainly, like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.
Your stomach flipped, and you bit your lip hard enough to sting as your gaze dropped to your hands clenched in the sheets. The teasing tilt in his tone, the sheer audacity of his calmness, made your head spin.
He pushed off the dresser and crossed the room in a few slow, deliberate steps, stopping just short of the bed. His sharp gaze bore into you as he leaned down slightly, his bracelets sliding further down his arms.
âSay what you want, [Y/N],â he said softly, the teasing edge in his voice tempered by something quieter, something steadier. âOr donât. Either wayâŚâ His eyes flicked to the condom, then back to you. âIâm not going anywhere.â
âI-...â you trailed off, your breath catching as you forced yourself to look at him. And in that moment, it hit you all at once, sharp and undeniable.
You liked him.
Not just liked himâyou wanted him, craved him in a way that made your heart race and your stomach twist. It hit you all at once: the teasing, the flirting, the way you got jealous over nothingâit wasnât friendly banter. It was so much more.
Stan leaned against the dresser, his bracelets jingling faintly as he shifted his weight. The condom in his hand hung lazily between two fingers, and his blue eyes locked onto yours with that sharp, assessing look he always gave when he was trying to figure you out. âYou⌠what?â he asked, the slightest tilt of his head adding to the edge in his voice.
Your chest tightened, the words bubbling to the surface before you could stop them. âI want you to come back to the bed.â
Stanâs brows lifted, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He swung the condom lightly, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. âOh, yeah? And what exactly do you want if I do?â
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as heat crept up your neck. âI want to kiss you,â you admitted, your voice trembling but firm. âI need to.â
The smirk on Stanâs face faltered, replaced by something softer, more serious. He straightened slightly, the humor in his eyes fading as he stepped closer, the condom now forgotten at his side. âYou need to kiss me,â he repeated, his tone lower, testing.
âYes,â you said, barely above a whisper.
Stanâs gaze lingered on you for a moment, his lips quirking as though he couldnât quite believe what he was hearing. He placed the condom on the bedside table and leaned down, his hands bracing on either side of you. His lips brushed yours, a soft, fleeting touch that left you breathless.
âYou couldâve just said so earlier,â he muttered, and then his mouth pressed firmly against yours, stealing whatever response you mightâve had.
The kiss was differentâno teasing smirks or playful jabs, just raw, unfiltered emotion. His hands cupped your face, tilting it slightly to deepen the kiss as his body pressed closer. You melted into him, your hands instinctively clutching at his bare shoulders as the heat between you grew.
Stan pulled back, his lips lingering just a breath away from yours, and his eyes searched yours like he was trying to piece together something important. âDo you even get what youâre doing to me?â he asked, his voice low and rough around the edges.
Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, your pulse thrumming in your ears. âI wasnât sure what I felt,â you said softly, the words stumbling out. âBut I know now. IâI want this. I want you.â
Stanâs gaze flickered, something vulnerable slipping through his usual guarded expression. His jaw worked for a moment, like he was chewing over your words, and then he let out a quiet breath, his hand sliding to cradle your face. âNo more of this back-and-forth shit,â he said, his voice firmer now. âIf weâre doing this, weâre doing it for real. None of your games. No bullshit.â
âNo games,â you echoed, your voice trembling but certain.
His lips curved into a small, lopsided smile, his thumb brushing against your jaw. âGood,â he said, his tone soft but resolute. His other hand settled on your waist, grounding you as he leaned in again, his forehead lightly bumping against yours. âBecause I donât think I can deal with you driving me up the wall anymore without this.â
Stan scooted back slightly, hooking his thumbs casually into the waistband of his sweatpants. His blue eyes stayed locked on yours, that familiar mix of irritation and amusement flickering in his gaze as he tugged them down just enough to reveal snug black boxer briefs. The way they hugged his frame left little to the imagination, and your eyes instinctively dropped, wide and unblinking.
âWow,â you said quickly, your cheeks heating up as you scrambled to deflect. âReally going for the bold look tonight, huh? Whatâs the occasion?â
Stan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a dry smirk. âBold words coming from someone who keeps getting caught staring,â he shot back. His hands dropped to his hips, his stance casual, but the sharpness in his voice made your stomach flip.
âI wasnât staring,â you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest in a weak attempt to look unbothered.
His laugh was short and incredulous, his eyes narrowing slightly. âYeah, sure. Totally convincing.â He shoved his sweatpants down the rest of the way with an almost careless motion, stepping out of them as they pooled at his feet. Now just in his boxer briefs, he took a slow step forward, looming over you with that same unimpressed look that made you squirm.
âYouâve got a smart mouth,â he said, his tone dripping with mockery. âAlways running it, even when youâre caught red-handed.â
You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could get a single word out, he was climbing onto the bed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart effortlessly, the weight of his body leaving you pinned beneath him. The shift in dynamic was immediate, leaving you breathless as his blue eyes bore into yours, sharp and unrelenting.
âYou think youâre funny?â he continued, his voice low and cutting, each word sinking into the tension between you. His thumbs brushed dangerously close to your panties, the teasing touch sending a jolt through your already-overheated body. âMaking little comments like that when youâre already soaked? What exactly are you trying to pull here?â
âI wasnâtââ you started defensively, but your words faltered when his fingers trailed up, pressing against the damp fabric of your panties with maddening precision.
âWasnât what?â he pressed, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. His voice dipped lower, taking on a mocking edge that sent shivers down your spine. âWasnât wet? Wasnât about to beg me? Careful, [Y/N]. You keep lying to my face, and I might just leave you like this all night.â
Your breath hitched, and you instinctively shifted your hips, trying to get more of his touch. But his grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you firmly in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his smirk sharp and unforgiving.
âYeah,â he murmured, his tone soft but cutting. âThatâs what I thought.â
He pushed himself back onto his heels, dragging his boxers down in one smooth motion. When he stood again, his cock stood hard and flushed, and the sight made your breath catch in your throat. Without thinking, your hand reached out to touch him, but he caught your wrist before you could get close.
âSeriously?â he said, his voice carrying that familiar edge of sarcasm that was so uniquely Stan. He shook his head, letting out a soft, disbelieving laugh. âYouâve been running your mouth all night, and now you think you get to do whatever you want? Cute.â
His free hand came up to grip your cheek, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to make your lips part slightly. âLook at me,â he said, his blue eyes locking onto yours. His tone was steady, but there was a flicker of frustration behind it, a heat that had your stomach twisting. âYouâve been pushing me all night, and now youâre just gonna sit there and wait until Iâm good and ready. Got it?â
Before you could respond, he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the condom, his movements deliberate. The soft crinkle of the wrapper made your thighs clench instinctively, but he caught the motion immediately, his eyes flicking down and then back up to yours with a faint smirk.
âYou talk a big game,â he said, rolling the condom on with an unhurried precision that made your pulse race. âGuess weâll see if you can actually handle it.â
He leaned back over you, his hands sliding deliberately up your sides before settling on your hips, his grip strong and grounding. His gaze stayed fixed on yours, his expression calm but charged with something unmistakably hungry.
âIââ
Stan cut you off, his hand pressing firmly but not harshly on the back of your head, guiding you down toward the mattress. âDonât,â he muttered, his voice low and edged with exasperation. The motion wasnât rough, but it carried no room for argument. He wasnât playing around anymore.
You turned your head slightly, trying to catch his eye, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as your manicured nails reached for his arm. âStan,â you whined softly, dragging out his name in that teasing tone you knew got under his skin.
Instead of rising to your bait, he let out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head like he couldnât believe you were still at it. âYou donât know when to stop, do you?â he said, his voice carrying that familiar sarcastic bite. Without waiting for a response, his hands gripped your hips, shifting you until your head was down against the bed and your ass was up, fully exposed. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to draw out every second of the tension until it was unbearable.
Stanâs fingers skimmed lightly over your back, trailing down to the curve of your hips. His touch lingered, warm and steady, before his grip tightened enough to ground you. He leaned in just enough for his voice to reach your ears, low and steady, the faintest edge of a smirk in his tone.
âLook at you now,â he said, his words cutting through the thick air between you. âAll that talk, and suddenly you donât have much to say.â
His hands stayed firm on your hips as he lined himself up with you. The weight of his cock against your entrance made your breath hitch, and before you could brace yourself, he pushed forward in one smooth, deliberate motion. The stretch burned, sharp and overwhelming, and your gasp turned into a broken cry as he seated himself fully, leaving no space between you.
Stan didnât move right away. He stayed buried inside, letting you feel every inch of him as his hands kept you still. The weight of his body, the heat of his skin, the way he held youâit was all-consuming. Tears pricked at your eyes from the sheer intensity of it.
âYouâre awful quiet,â he muttered after a moment, his voice low and thick, almost casual. âWhat happened to all that attitude, huh? Thought you had something smart to say.â
A choked whimper escaped you, and you turned your head slightly, trying to meet his gaze through your tear-blurred vision. Stanâs face was flushed, his messy bleached hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you with a mix of irritation and smug satisfaction. That familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, sharp and knowing, as if he could see right through you.
When you tried to shift your hips, seeking even the smallest bit of relief, his hands clamped down harder, holding you in place. âUh-uh,â he said, his voice cutting through your quiet protests. âYou donât get to squirm your way out of this. You wanted me back here so bad, right? So take it.â
Your breath hitched again as you buried your face in the mattress, your muffled cries betraying how much you were feeling. âS-StanâŚâ you hiccupped, your voice trembling, barely able to form his name.
He leaned over you, his chest brushing against your back, his lips close to your ear. âOh, now youâre playing the soft card?â he murmured, his tone dripping with mock pity. âToo late for that, sweetheart. Youâve been running your mouth all night, and now youâre gonna deal with what you started.â
As if to punctuate his words, he pulled back slightly and then thrust forward again, slow but deep, the motion stealing the air from your lungs. He didnât let up, finding a deliberate rhythm that left you clawing at the sheets beneath you, every thrust making your body tremble.
âYou know,â he said, his voice almost conversational despite the roughness of his movements, âyouâre always so damn sure of yourself. Always pushing, always testing me.â He paused, his hips snapping forward harder, making you cry out. âBut now? Now youâre not so cocky, are you?â
Tears slipped freely down your cheeks as you tried to keep up, your mind spinning from the overwhelming mix of sensations. When you tried to speak, to form even the smallest response, the words dissolved into broken moans, leaving you completely at his mercy.
Stan noticed, of course. He always noticed. âAw, whatâs wrong?â he teased, his voice softer now, but still carrying that playful edge. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips warm and teasing against your skin. âToo much for you already?â
You managed a shaky nod, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your body trembled beneath him. His laugh was soft, almost cruel, as he trailed another kiss along your jawline. âGood,â he murmured, his voice low but filled with satisfaction. âMaybe now youâll think twice before trying to mess with me.â
Despite the tears pooling in your eyes, your body betrayed you, rolling your hips back into him as best you could, chasing the pressure and the sensation. Stan let out a quiet groan at your reaction, his hands gripping your waist tighter.
âSee?â he said, his tone shifting to something gentler but still laced with control. âYou can be good when you really try.â
Stanâs movements faltered slightly, his hands gripping your hips as he took in the way your body responded to him. His lips quirked into a soft smirk, but his blue eyes betrayed something deeperâintensity mixed with that familiar, slightly sarcastic glint that was so him.
âDamn,â he muttered, his voice low and husky. âYouâre really losing it, arenât you?â
You whimpered in response, unable to form words, your head pressed into the mattress. Stan leaned forward, his breath warm against your shoulder, and chuckled softly. It wasnât meanâit was teasing, familiar, the same way he always had been, but now it carried the weight of everything happening between you.
âThat good, huh?â he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to make your breath hitch. âAll this, just from me?â
Your body clenched around him at his words, and his sharp intake of breath was proof he noticed. He paused, his hips pressed flush against you as his hand trailed up your back, coaxing a soft arch from your spine.
âOkay, okay,â he teased, his tone shifting, dripping with playful sarcasm now. âYou donât have to answer. Youâre kind of... busy.â He punctuated his statement with a slow roll of his hips, drawing a gasp from your lips.
Stan groaned quietly, his head dipping closer to your ear. âJesus, youâre soaking me,â he said, his voice breaking slightly at the edges. âI didnât think you could get any better, but here we are.â
His praise made your chest tighten, heat flooding through you as your mind spun. He caught the way your moans grew louder, how your body tensed with every soft word that slipped from his lips.
âOh, you like that, donât you?â he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity, with that cocky-but-genuine air only Stan could pull off. âYou like when I tell you how good you are?â
Your response was a broken whimper, your nails clawing at the sheets as you tried to ground yourself. Stanâs laughter was soft, almost affectionate, as his fingers trailed down your side, his other hand gripping your hip tightly to keep his rhythm steady.
âYeah,â he said softly, his voice dropping. âOf course you do. Why wouldnât you? Youâre fucking perfect.â
His words sent a shudder through you, and he felt it, his smirk widening as he leaned forward again. âI mean it,â he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before biting down gently, making you gasp. âYouâre driving me insane in the best way.â
You let out a choked sob, the intensity of his praise, his rhythm, and his control overwhelming you completely. Your legs trembled beneath you as your body clenched around him, and Stan groaned, his own composure slipping slightly.
âFuck,â he muttered, his voice hoarse now. âThatâs it. Just like that. Keep doing that, baby. Youâre perfect.â
His words pushed you closer to the edge, your mind hazy with arousal and emotion. Tears slipped from your eyes, and you gasped his name, your voice trembling as you tried to hold on.
âStan,â you managed to whisper, your tone pleading and raw.
Stanâs pace faltered for a split second when he heard your shaky voice break through the heavy rhythm of your breathing. His blue eyes darted down to you, catching the way tears spilled down your cheeks, your lips trembling as you turned your head away from the pillow to meet his gaze.
âIâm sorry,â you whimpered, voice thick with emotion as you sniffled, your body trembling beneath him.
Stanâs brows furrowed, his jaw clenching, though his movements didnât let up. If anything, his pace grew more purposeful, his hips snapping into yours as his hands gripped your waist tightly, grounding you to him.
âSorry?â he asked, his voice low, strained. âWhat are you apologizing for, huh?â
Tears streaked your flushed cheeks, your lips trembling as you gasped, âF-for earlier. For... everything.â
Stan let out a breathy laugh, the sound edged with something almost disbelieving, his forehead falling forward slightly as he leaned over you. âYouâre apologizing now?â he asked, his tone teasing but not unkind, his words brushing against the shell of your ear as he kept moving. âRight when youâre about to come? Really convenient timing dude, donât you think?â
You let out a choked sob, your body clenching around him as you struggled to keep your gaze locked with his. âI-I mean it,â you said, your voice breaking as your chest heaved, every nerve in your body alight.
Stanâs lips quirked into a crooked smile, his expression softening for a moment before his hands slid up your body, one moving to your face to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed away a stray tear as his eyes bore into yours, his tone quieter now but no less intense.
âHey,â he murmured, his voice rough but gentle, âI know you mean it. But Iâm not letting you off that easy.â
Your eyes widened, another soft cry escaping you as his thrusts grew deeper, hitting the perfect spot that had you unraveling. âS-Stan, I... Iâm gonnaââ
âI know,â he said, cutting you off, his voice dropping even lower, his thumb tracing slow circles over your cheek. âI can feel it. Youâre so fucking close, arenât you?â
You nodded desperately, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your entire body tensed. Tears blurred your vision as you whimpered, âPlease.â
Stan groaned softly, his gaze unwavering as he pressed a firm, almost possessive kiss to your lips. âThen come for me,â he commanded, his voice dripping with authority, his hand gripping your jaw to keep you focused on him. âRight now. I want to see you fall apart.â
And with his words ringing in your ears, you did.
Stanâs movements didnât falter as he kept driving into you, his relentless rhythm drawing ragged whimpers and muffled cries from your lips. His hand stayed firm on your chin, holding your gaze as though daring you to look away. His messy, grown-out bleached hair stuck to his forehead in damp strands, the pale locks contrasting sharply with his slightly tanned skin. The bracelets on his wristsâsimple bands and one woven with multicolored threadsâshifted and caught the light with every powerful thrust, his forearms flexing with the effort.
The sight of him was dizzying. His swollen lips parted slightly as his breaths came heavy, a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten under the warm dorm lighting. It was impossible not to stare, the sharp cut of his jawline and the faint dusting of pink across his cheeks making him look so effortlessly gorgeous, so thoroughly wrecked in the best way.
âGod, youâre so tight,â he muttered, his voice strained as his hips snapped against yours. His free hand slid from your hip to grip your waist, his strong fingers digging into your skin to hold you steady. âI should be pissed at you right now, butâfuckâhow am I supposed to stay mad when youâre like this?â
You tried to respond, your lips parting, but all that came out was a cracked moan as he hit just the right spot again. Gathering your nerve, you attempted to form words, the teasing edge in your tone still managing to peek through your overstimulated haze. âI-I was just gonna sayââ
Stan cut you off immediately, his blue eyes narrowing as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. âNope. Not this time.â He shoved two fingers into your mouth without hesitation, the pads of his fingers pressing down on your tongue firmly enough to silence you. âYou wanna say something? Too bad. Youâre done talking.â
Your wide-eyed stare and muffled protests only spurred him on. His bracelets shifted again as he adjusted his grip, his thumb brushing across your cheek almost tenderly, contrasting the raw intensity in his movements. âGod, youâre such a mess,â he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. âLook at youâtears running down your face, trying to act like youâve got something smart to say. Youâre not fooling anyone.â
Your moan around his fingers was muffled but unmistakably needy, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensation. The fire pooling in your stomach grew unbearable as Stanâs relentless pace brought you closer and closer to the edge.
âBet you love it,â he rasped, his head dipping closer as he brought his lips to your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his hips slammed into yours again. âYou canât get enough, can you? Always pushing, always testing me. And now look where itâs gotten you.â
The warmth of his skin, the weight of his body pressing you down, the unrelenting heat in his gazeâit was overwhelming. You whimpered helplessly around his fingers, your eyes locking with his again, and Stan groaned low in his throat, the sight of you so thoroughly wrecked beneath him pushing him closer to the brink.
âYou look so good like this,â he muttered, his voice barely above a growl. âCompletely mine.â
His pace faltered slightly, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release, his bleached hair falling into his eyes. But he didnât let up, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh and pulling you even closer. âKeep looking at me,â he ordered, his voice hoarse but firm. âDonât you dare look away.â
Stanâs thrusts slowed, his body trembling as he reached his peak. A guttural moan tore from his throat, raw and unfiltered, as his head tipped back, his bleached hair clinging to his damp skin. His grip on your thigh tightened for a moment before his movements stilled completely, his chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths.
For a few seconds, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the faint hum of the dorm room fan. Stan stayed still, his hands resting on your hips, holding you close as he caught his breath. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face flushed with exertion, and the weight of his release seemed to hit him all at once.
When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you, there was a flicker of something in his expressionâhesitation, maybe even embarrassment. His gaze softened, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but the words didnât come. Instead, he gave a faint, almost self-conscious chuckle, his hand brushing lightly over your waist as though grounding himself.
âShit,â he murmured, his voice low and rough, more to himself than to you. His blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, he looked almost abashed, his usual cocky demeanor stripped away entirely. âYou⌠okay?â
The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you nodded, your lips parting to respond, but your voice came out in a whisper. âYeah.â
Stan exhaled a quiet laugh, running a hand through his messy hair as he pulled back slightly, his movements careful, almost tentative. He reached out to the bedside table, grabbing a tissue and leaning back down to press a quick, soft kiss to your temple. âGood,â he muttered, his voice still tinged with that uncharacteristic vulnerability. âIâI didnât mean to get soâŚâ
He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if trying to shake off the unspoken thought. His cheeks were still faintly flushed, his bracelets clinking softly as he adjusted his grip on your waist to help steady you. The moment was quieter now, the intensity replaced with something gentler, almost uncertain.
Stanâs fingers brushed over your cheek lightly, his gaze searching yours. âYou sure youâre okay?â he asked again, his brows furrowing slightly.
Your heart twisted at the softness in his voice, and you reached up to cover his hand with yours. âIâm okay, Stan,â you said, your voice steadier now. âPromise.â
He gave a small nod, his lips pressing into a faint smile, though the flicker of uncertainty didnât entirely fade from his eyes. âGood,â he said again, softer this time. Then, after a beat, he added with a wry smirk, âYou⌠really know how to make things complicated, donât you?â
There was a teasing edge to his words, but his tone was light, almost affectionate. It felt like Stan was trying to bridge the intensity of the moment with something more familiar, something easier to grasp.
Stan exhaled deeply, his forehead briefly resting against your shoulder as he worked to collect himself. When he pulled back, he shifted off the bed, peeling off the condom and tying it off before tossing it into the trash can. His bleached hair was even messier now, sticking to his damp forehead, and the soft jingle of his bracelets filled the quiet room as he reached for a tissue to clean himself up.
You stretched out languidly, turning your head to shoot him a teasing smirk. âSo⌠does this mean youâre not mad anymore?â
Stan froze mid-motion, his head snapping to look at you. The exasperation on his face was instant, though it was laced with amusement. âDonât start,â he warned, narrowing his eyes but failing to suppress the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
You grinned wider, propping yourself up on your elbows. âI mean, you seemed really mad earlier. Like dude, I was kinda scared for a second,â you said, your voice dripping with playful mockery. âBut now? I think youâre just a big softie.â
Stan rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath as he tossed the tissues into the trash with a flick of his wrist. âKeep talking, and Iâll show you how âsoftâ I am,â he quipped, leaning over to lightly flick your forehead.
You pouted dramatically, rubbing the spot heâd flicked. âAbuse!â you teased, mock-gasping. âIâm gonna tell Red youâre bullying me.â
Stan shook his head, standing up to adjust his bracelets and reaching for his sweatpants. âYouâre the worst,â he muttered with a laugh, grabbing the discarded blanket from the floor and tossing it over you. âNow shut up and go to sleep before you actually piss me off again.â
You laughed, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you watched him move around the room. The tension had completely dissolved, replaced with the kind of easy banter that seemed to define whatever the two of you had. Stan shook his head again, but you could see the faint grin on his face as he grabbed his phone off the dresser and flopped back down beside you.
i love red sm...
#south park x reader#south park x y/n#south park oneshot#stan marsh x reader#stan marsh x y/n#south park smut
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okay, a couple things on alien stage/ivantill that I think some folks maybe need to consider and internalize.
Till does not "need" to return Ivan's feelings in the slightest if he doesn't feel that way. It's heart wrenching to see Ivan love him and have those feelings unreturned, but please remember that no one is required to return romantic feelings for someone else. You can't make yourself love someone, and you shouldn't. Especially out of guilt or obligation. That's Unhealthy 101, and would only set a relationship up for failure. (I do think Till cared about Ivan, and that he's going to have a Guilt Complex based on the fact that he didn't fully notice Ivan's feelings/care toward him until the guy died, but I've seen a couple of people tear into Till for not noticing/reciprocating Ivan's feelings??? Don't do that??? their situation is shitty, the fact that they didn't get to talk is shitty, but please don't blame Till for things he Can't Control.)
The kiss was not consensual. It wasn't meant to be portrayed as such. It wasn't even really romantic, it was a desperate, selfish act that Ivan used to get Till's attention (in more ways than one) and to give himself some sense of closure before he died. It was him saying everything that he felt at once, with no chance for Till to reciprocate or deny the affection. In a perfect world, they could have talked instead of this, maybe kissed knowing both wanted it, or given Till a chance to refuse. But they're both in the middle of an essential death tournament and one of them is going to be murdered sometime in the next few minutes. Neither of them really wants to live, but Ivan feels he has unfinished business before his sacrifice, so he finishes it. Their situation sucks. That doesn't mean the kiss was consensual. (especially considering the theory/implication that Till was/is being sexually assaulted by aliens, I wouldn't be surprised if this affects him badly in the future, for multiple reasons. Everyone should always get the chance to say "no" and have that fully respected. This also extends to the fact that Ivan died for Till without giving him a chance to stop it, which is probably going to mess with Till's head a lot. Then again, Ivan likely didn't think it would affect Till much because as far as he/we know, the feelings aren't reciprocated in this moment in canon, or are extremely repressed. Ivan might believe that Till simply hates him, or the kiss/subsequent "choking" may have been a way of trying to make Till hate him so that his death wouldn't hurt as much. Of course that thinking is flawed, because it would hurt Till no matter what, but still, it makes me sad)
Ivan... is kinda messed up. I adore him, but we've got to acknowledge that he has little to no emotional and relationship maturity due to the fact that he was quite literally raised as a pet and learned at a young age to do whatever his masters said to keep himself safe and pain-free. His fascination with Till appears to largely stem from Till's sense of rebellion. Ivan's examples of relationship dynamics and what constitutes as "love" is dangerously unbalanced, and he does not know how to build a healthy relationship. (Neither of them do.) This is also built onto the fact that the person he became dependent on only paid attention to him when they were fighting or Ivan was annoying him. Ivan cares about Till desperately, but he is also dangerously reliant on him to the point of self-detriment. Again, in an ideal world, they would be able to get out of this situation and gradually make a healthy relationship/friendship (depending on Till's feelings) over time while starting to undo the dangerous relationship patterns that they fell into when they didn't have any way to know better. But they're in a terrible situation, and Ivan really just doesn't get the chance to grow as a person and realize that his sense of possessiveness and reliance on Till's attention isn't healthy.
Basically, their situation makes me want to sob and its heart wrenching. Their circumstances have set them up for failure. Both of them are in the midst of attempting to survive an abusive situation and massive amounts of dehumanization. I beg, please try not to sanitize their complicated relationship or blame either of them for the pain the other is going through. I've seen some of that going around, and it's making me sad :(
#don't get me wrong i Adore both of them and i want them to be happy#i am so unwell about them#i think their relationship is both heart breaking and fascinating#and i would love to see them in a consensual romantic relationship#but some folks have been... taking some stuff too far#maybe i just have a case of 'no one understands my blorbos better than me'#but it's been bothering me#alien stage#ivantill#alnst ivan#alnst till#alnst#i could also go into how mizisua manages to be a bit healthier in bad circumstances and why#while also acknowledging that their relationship probably wouldn't be considered âhealthyâ in a different situation#and how the codependence v. dependance dynamic is working in this series#but this post was getting... beefy#and also idk if i'm going to get FLAMED for this or not so *shrugs*#tw sa mention#tw unhealthy relationship#dehumanisation tw
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#i'm gonna keep this rant in the tags bc it won't be as coherent as i'd like it to be#i played the new es and the writing was nice#but what bothers me is the pervasiveness of the christian ideology without the acknowledgement of every single other ideology#like the story itself could be very cool#if only it wasn't yet another christian conundrum#interesting concept in theory but like. i have had Enough#and i know this is a very personal bias bc every church related narrative feels like a cult narrative (derogatory) to me#i did appreciate the neutral choices through the story and the parabolan lore tho#once again this is not an elaborate rant i just wanted to say my immediate thoughts on this#from a very personal point of view#that said i did enjoy the writing style and i always like the rats#not tagging this as anything i don't want to spam the main tag
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Ok, been sitting on this for a while, been trying to talk myself out of it, but here goes.
The book doesn't sell me on the love Theoden had for Eowyn.
I tried to read it and find something in his actions towards her that tell me he has proper regard, proper respect for her, that gives any weight or meaning to his love for her, but I can't find anything. He dismisses her before the entire court, doesn't consider her an heir or a proper part of his house, and has to have her virtues called out to him by other people, when she has been serving him for years.
Return Of The King sees him spout platitudes and declare her "dearer than daughter", but none of this is backed up by his general actions to her.
He loves Eowyn, fine. But he doesn't love her the way he loves Eomer, or probably loved Theodred. He doesn't love her as a fully realised being. Nor as someone to take pride in and carry on his legacy. He loves her a crutch, a tool, and something between pet and person.
He has affection for Eowyn, but his love feels more like a trivial thing, than something with any real worth or regard to it.
#Lotr#Lord of the Rings#Eowyn#Theoden#I don't think this is Tolkien's intent#I think I'm meant to believe that Theoden was awesome to Eowyn and did love her more than a daughter#but Tolkien never gave me a reason to believe that#can someone find me a moment in the books where Theoden's love for Eowyn feels like something substantial#where he loves her for who she is and not for the services she has provided#where he shows any respect for her capabilities and pride in her person#and not just going along with it when other people point them out to him#I love them in the films and I want to believe in their love so much#but Theoden's love for Eowyn in the books just feels perfunctory and leaves me feeling empty#I don't think this is how their relationship is meant to make me feel#Eowyn put her life on hold and endured hell for Theoden's sake#and we never even get an implication he regretted what she endured for his sake#we never see a hint of Theoden regretting how he snubbed her before the court#almost every scene between the two of them in Two Towers lacks warmth or regard between them#the minute Theoden's recovered he sends Eowyn away as though she's not longer of use to him#he forgets her bloody existence before everyone in the hall#he has her wait on him while Eomer Aragorn Gimli and Legolas all get to sit with him#and in turn all Eowyn can do is look at him with cool pity#and at their parting she focusses more on Aragorn than Theoden#she clearly isn't feeling the love right now and why should she?#it makes Theoden calling her daughter and showing her some morsels of affection in Return of the King feel empty#like now yeah he can be bothered to acknowledge Eowyn a bit now that it suits him#but when other stuff is going on she falls to the back of his mind#there's enough unseen moments or gaps where perhaps if Tolkien had written them I might have believed in Theoden's love for Eowyn#such as their parting before Pelennor which was described as âpainfulâ#but that pain could have meant a variety of things
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even though i feel like i can confidently tell when a piece of art is generative A/I, i really don't feel inclined or really even justified calling someone out for it due to the precedent it sets - especially when artists who DO make their own pieces get caught in the crossfire for being inexperienced or making the choice to be more free-form when it comes to character design / consistency...
#i can't even really put into words how I can Tell#other than like... random blurry details in areas that would not logically have those details blurred - for styles imitating digital art#what i mean by this is: you can kind of tell when and where a type of tool has been used when it comes to digital pieces#if it looks like an artist grabbed the smudge tool and used it in a small area surrounded by crisper details ... it seems like an arbitrary#- and thoughtless decision#especially when it comes to character design pieces#this blurriness is also present in a type of style that wouldn't see much reason to use the smudge tool at all .. such as a cell shaded -#- toon style with thick outlines#i think what bothers me about this whole debacle is how we're setting up an environment where people feel inclined to lie about using-#-generative tools... part of the problem is the foundation of a/i art to be using people's work without . permission. im sure a good amount#-of artists wouldnt have minded MAKING pieces to be used solely for these type of tools#since generative art has been used as an excuse to replace artists in an attempt to render their work unnecessary or obsolete ... it's -#- become politicized and viewed as anti-artist. which. fair enough. it was pitched and sold that way#but even if like... these initial problems were addressed i feel like there'd still be a lot of stigma associated with generative art#since a lot of people's beef with it is the fact that it feels soulless. and i feel like that has to do with how the generated works are -#- being passed off as completed full pieces and not have any transformative work done upon them#i always joke about like 'they should invent art that's easier to make' ... but i don't want the hard work on my end replaced#just some help really. or guidance on completing my own work. A/I could have -possibly- been used as another form of reference#(if it were more competent. i think it's sloppy as hell in its current state)#but before it was uh... hugely controversial and right when generative A/I got more competent? i actually saw it as a toy.#i wanted to play with it and see what would come out... im honestly just more-so frustrated that it's viewed as on-par or better than-#-work done by human beings. what makes something art to me is if it's been transformed by human intention and connection#and i don't get how it's snobby to dislike A/I art for that reason. why do y'all think artists love when people dissect and examine their-#-work ? art is about human connection. we have ancient monuments and abandoned cave paintings we know nothing about-#- but are captivated by because we want to know WHY they're there. WHO made them. and for what reason#and i think a/i art is a painful reminder for a lot of artists that to a lot of people art is only valued through aesthetic merit#no acknowledgement for an artist's hard work .. their life .. all the personal intention behind their work#it's the commodification being thrown back in our faces tenfold#another tag essay by me. shiloh
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I'm TIREDDDD of regret i want it to stop and to be able to say "i truly do not give a fuck"
#when you're forced to give a fuck it's actually worse. so what if my heart does care and i would have liked to someday finish this program#or study something. anything#it's dead now. it's murdered#i'm not a fucking necromancer i can't bring something that's dead back to life#god. it makes me so angry. i'm like if an adult was a baby#who caresss who cares that i'm angry i still have to play the cards i'm given or whatever but I don't want to!!!#cause it bothers me. that no one acknowledges anything. how do you move on#kata.txt
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Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care
#i have 14 hours overtime#collected within 2 weeks lol#you know how it's apparently mandatory for companies in germany to have a way track employees working time? yeah we're#the only company in the whole fucking country who doesn't do that (obviously that's not true there's probably plenty more but it's#still not right.) so we don't get paid overtime nor does it get acknowledged in any way#so technically we're not allowed to even it out (which most people try to do anyway because tf do they think they are asking us to work for#free) but I'm dedicated to not collect any more unpaid working hours so i take the liberty to leave work early this week#so today i left at 12pm (and then got home 4 hours later because another person decided to kill themselves by train. they should call me#first. or anyone else taking the train. I'm sure there'd be plenty of volunteers to do the killing if it means not another miserable day#stuck in a disgusting train). and i logged in again at 6pm today to see if i have anything important messages (stupid i know)#and i saw the missed calls and that there had been an email exchange with me in the cc talking about the 'changes' made in one of the#articles and that someone else could do that for me since i couldn't be reached and at first i felt ashamed and scared#but now it's honestly just pissing me off. that asshole can't write emails and communicate requests like normal people can he#he already called me last week about something completely stupid and acts like his matters are the most important shit in the world#fuck you if you can't wait one day you should have sent this a month earlier because i won't stay online everyday#just to see if there might be an 'important' change you want me to make Immediately. bitch.#also missed two calls from my colleague but she didn't send any messages about what she wanted so i asked her because i felt bad for not#being online and turns out she wanted Nothing. just hear how i was. JUST TEXT ME THEN???? I HATE IT HERE FUCK YOU#seriously i don't get paid enough for this to bother me so much. she probably gets 12-15⏠more than me per hour#of course she doesn't care about her overtime as much as i do. i get minimum wage which is less than what I'd get if i still worked at uni#as a student assistant so fuck this shit it's really not important or worth it. from now on i'll only put in minimum effort too#sorry got carried away. rant over now i guess#void screams#work stuff
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three way emails are so ANNOYING
you add a third person and suddenly none of the regular social rules apply.
and don't even get me STARTED on cc's. i can never be a corporate girlie bc to me these are the horrors.
#are you meant to say 'dear all'?#are you meant to name the two other people?#who knows#if one of the people reply to your email saying only 'dear [y/n] do you reply back saying only 'dear [their name]'???#do you still include the third person in the 'send to' option?#or do they get downgraded to 'cc'?#and what if the other two people are having a conversation without you but still including you in the email#are you meant to acknowledge them?#bc i always find 'yes i've received this' emails such a waste of time#but also is it rude to ignore them?#but also are you intruding on their conversation if they're talking amongst themselves?#but also would they still send it to you if they didn't want you to reply?#or do they just want you to be a passive observer?#don't even get me started on when YOU'RE the one cc'd in#let alone being bc'd in#pain torture agony#i hate this someone needs to burn outlook#let's go back to handwritten letters through carrier pigeon#or better yet telegrams which charge by the letter so you don't have to bother with pleasantries
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as much as it's fun being in the fandom and i love having our community i notice sometimes that i just don't vibe with the general opinions of the fandom about plots or characters or the cast and that hearing everyone's opinions or predictions and the 'drama' is too much and overwhelming and i actually don't wanna hear any of it and i realize it tends to annoy and upset me and then you know you need to take a step back from it.
i will definitely try and stay offline when s3 drops in a week and will blacklist tags and probably unfollow some blogs for a while bc i don't want to be exposed to too much content and experience it on my own first and form my own opinions before i dive in on it online. and i don't want to think too much about what the fandom's expectations and wishes are and hear about other's disappointments or gratification or whatever and remove all of that from my brain. my goal is to just enjoy watching season 3 with no pressure and have a good time no matter the outcome of my own wishes and expectations and it can be good even if not all of mine come true bc it doesn't and shouldnât mean everything
#personal#it really is such a up and down - sometimes i love being in the fandom and sharing opinions and analyses and all#and sometimes i don't want any of it#even when you disagree with stuff or it makes you upset you don't always have to talk about it and i'm really trying to hold back#i don't have to acknowledge it and i don't want it to bother me and i wanna go back to just enjoying the show#and i think i can do that best when i don't see hundreds of other people's reactions and opinions#i will enjoy the gifs and posts and analyses and memes later on#i'll definitely be back#and i probably can't stay away for too long bc the content will dry up at some point and fans will leave bc it's the last season#and sadly that means that some people are not interested in staying longer even though i hope this fandom can last#honestly it's probably gonna be more chill when the hype is over and only some people stay and hopefully that means less drama
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Oh not me avoiding a wildly popular piece of media that Iâd probably actually like out of sheer spite.
#maybe this is my True Toxic Trait but I just get really annoyed when all I hear is 'this thing is PERFECT it's EVERYTHING it's the only#TRULY high-quality media to EVER exist it is OBJECTIVELY better than literally EVERYTHING else it's the MOST IMPORTANT thing of ALL TIME'#like...again. not that you have to issue a disclaimer for media discussion of every single one of it's flaws before you earn the right to#talk about it. but if people keep holding something up as The Best Ever No Exceptions with literally no other commentary I just kind of...#get irritated to the point where I don't want to engage with the thing#I think in this case it's really...Objectively This Is The Best. I think that's what bothers me. because there IS no objective measurement#of art. it doesn't exist!! and that's okay!!!! just be honest!!!!!!!#'but mc13 what about your relationship to cxgf' well if you go back through my episode reviews you will see that I very much#acknowledged that some things could be done better and that it is not a perfect show because perfect media ALSO doesn't exist#and I've never said that it's the ONLY '''right''' way to present the themes it explores. there are a million different ways to do that#and it is the Greatest of All Time in MY OPINION. that's not going to be true of everyone!! and you can think something is the Bestâ˘#WITHOUT PUTTING DOWN OTHER PIECES OF MEDIA /ESPECIALLY/ ONES THAT ARE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME GENRE OR HAVE THE SAME FUNCTION??????#I'm also so tired of people saying 'it's good because it's gayâ˘' like that tells me NOTHING#and like. the ideas/themes/concepts presented in this thing (from what I can tell) ARE present in other types of media and y'all REFUSE to#engage in those other things??? like you write them off and disparage them and basically unconditionally hate the things in them but#THIS time it's okay THIS is the exception and there is just NO awareness or critical thought there at all. it's the hypocrisy for me#In the Vents
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it is so demoralizing when i put everything into a piece and it gets almost no response from anyone but simpler half assed pieces get twice as many notes.
#i really just don't want to have to learn blender or only do art of popular characters for my work to be acknowledged.#but it's enough to drive me to drinking#and hate myself#like i'm not good enough#it makes me wonder why i even bother anymore
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