#not saying that I do not enjoy actually getting to know the person - i do but it’s more so just me not being able to fathom that towards me
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pick your love story °🍵⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ jujutsu kaisen edition (sfw)
gojo satoru ☆ childhood friends to lovers
loves to tease you, and he'll always poke your cheek, ruffle your hair, or steal your food just to get a reaction. if you're shy or quiet, he lives to make you flustered. buys the most ridiculous gifts, including matching sunglasses and designer items that cost more than your rent. acts like your personal heater, always draping himself over you, wrapping his long arms around your shoulders, or sneaking his hands under your sweater to press them against your skin. if someone flirts with you? well, he's throwing him arm around you so dramatically, calling you his 'beloved' in the most obnoxious way possible. if the person doesn't back off, his carefree tone disappears and he gives them a chilling smile. loves late night drives and cafe dates, he's so the type to blast music in the car and sing off-key on purpose, always laughs when you tell him to zip it. his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation, and he needs to be touching you at all times, and he constantly reminds you how much he loves you in different playful and heartfelt ways <3 he's even softer when he's sleepy, nuzzling into your neck and shit, voice always dropping to a quiet murmur as he spills whatever's on his mind.
geto suguru ☆ best friends to lovers
pretty chill, protective and a faux deep thinker type of guy. gentle and attentive, always knowing what you need before you even ask. if had a rough day, he's gonna run you a bath and try to get your favourite drink. tries to sit still and listen patiently while you rant. lowkey a bit overzealous when it comes to jealousy, but never petty. he doesn't get outwardly possessive. but if someone flirts with you, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and give the person a pretty sharp look, enough that they'll back off and shit. always takes pictures of you, and he has an entire album of random shots of you reading, laughing or even just existing bc he really does think you look beautiful in every moment. loves bookstore and vinyl shop dates, and he enjoys those sweet peaceful moments with you (flipping through books, aka arguing about different genres). he's super big on quality time + acts of service, and if he sees you struggling with anything, he'll try to take care of it before you even have to ask. loves running his fingers through your hair, and he claims it calms him, and sometimes he just gets so lost in thought while doing it, that you have to snap him out of it. he's the type to whisper sweet things in your ear absentmindedly, like 'you have no idea how much i love you' when he thinks you're not paying attention. goes all red and dismissive when he realises you actually did hear that :D and he says he's not in gossip and drama but no one talks shit like he does, lets be real
ryomen sukuna ☆ prob sum weird enemies to lover shit
claims he doesn't date, but somehow ends up trying to figure out your favourite flower. calls you stupid shit like 'brat' or 'pet' more than your actual name, but if someone disrespects you, he tears them apart without hesitation. gets jealous easily, but he won't admit it, and if someone looks at you wrong, he'll grab your chin and kiss you (not that you mind <3) his love language is physical touch and dominance, expect him to always keep a hand on your waist, neck or chin because as much as he pretends otherwise, he loves feeling your skin against his. gaslights you over silly things for fun ('i literally told you that' 'no you didn't' 'oh, so you're forgetful now). also whispers absolute nonsense in your ear just from time to time, 'did you know that octopuses have three hearts? bet you didn't, but now you do. you're welcome'). will open a jar way too aggressively to try and show off his strength but breaks it, and now you're left with no pickles and a sulking sukuna with pickle juice on his hand. carries you like a sack of potatoes on his shoulders if you piss him off. pretends he doesn't gaf, but always shares his food with you and tries to order what you like.
toji fushiguro ☆ reluctant friends to lovers
grumpy but soft for you typa boyfriend who doesn't believe in using full words in texts. only texts in 'ya' or 'nah' and he accidentally replied 'k' to you saying 'i love you' and he called you immediately afterwards because he knows he messed up. loves pda but in the most lazy way possible, and will always drape himself over you like a weighted blanket and refuse to move. always steals bites of your food (half the meal) but will act offended if you do the same. once won you a stuffed animal at a carnival and acted like it was no big deal, but he actually used up all his carnival tickets trying to win you the biggest prize. spoils you in a reckless way, and he'll hand you a wad of cash and refuses to tell you how he got the money. he just tells you to go buy something nice. love language is acts of service and physical touch because he claims he's not amazing with words, but his hands always find their way back home to you. loves lazy mornings, and grumbles when you try to get out of bed, pulling you back in with an arm around your waist.
nanami kento ☆ love at first sight
exhausted but devoted you get me, and he claims that you energise him and light up his life. lectures you when you only sleep for three hours a night. replies to the tiktoks you send with corporate replies 'that was humorous. thank you for sharing. i love you.' he thinks you're absolutely the most beautiful person on the planet, and always lets you know. pretty gentle, mature and devoted. shows his love in sweet, meaningful ways. always puts your comfort first, and he tries to take things off your plate without asking. loves cooking for you, and believes cooking is its own love language. hates unnecessary, brash pda but loves quiet intimacy. holds your hand, brushes your hair against your ear. lingering kisses on your temple. reads to you at night, and he'll sit beside you if you have trouble drifting off. his love language is absolutely acts of service and quality time, and he doesn't just say he loves you, he'll prove it in every little action of his. loves taking you out to scenic parks and hikes, and just stares after you with so much love as he tries to adjust the focus of his camera lenses to try and capture you as well as he can.
choso kamo ☆ strangers to lovers
kinda awkward but genuinely, really quiet sweet. overthinks everything, and at the start of your relationship, he even started overthinking how you said 'goodnight!' and wondered if you were mad at him, because there was no heart or emoji. would die before making the first move idk, like you're going to have kiss him first or else, otherwise i fear he's going to have a stroke. holds grudges as long as he can, and will bring up little shit (like you stealing his lunch) six months later 'remember that time you betrayed me?'. but he can only really give you the silent treatment for two whole minutes when you tease him, and then immediately apologises because he feels bad. a lot of friends tease the two of you because they think choso is too quiet or a pushover but the truth is that he's actually pretty snarky, clever and observant. very determined and always sticks to his morals, even at times when you disagree with him, he's able to put his foot down. love language is quality time and gift giving, because he's the type to remember everything you like and surprise him with it. loves watching movies with you, and pretends not to care for 90s chick flicks, but he's digging them deep down. loves holding your hand, and even in public, he'll reach for you quietly.
higuruma hiromi☆ coworkers to lovers
overworked but loves you so bad. he sometimes reminds you of a tired, single dad but he's truly joyous to date. if you call him baby in public, he immediately malfunctions and blushes. you once kissed him in a courtroom (not even when court was ongoing!) on the tip of his gorgeous nose, and he almost choked. will 100% object to random things just to irritate you, with topics like takeout for dinner, 'objection. we had sushi two days ago.' takes everything pretty seriously, until you do something cute. then he just sits there, hiding his smile behind his hand like an adorable anime protagonist. tries to be strict or protective, but you just make him super soft. secretly likes pda but pretends that he doesn't. grips your hand so tight like he fears you might disappear. loves when you rest in his lap or against his chest as he reads over cases and paperwork. you told him that he'd look hot with glasses, and you caught him browsing through lens frames.
naoya zenin ☆ arranged marriage (kinda ooc naoya btw, bear with me)
sort of a menace who should have been left on read a long time ago, but this wasn't your first choice. somehow, he folds for you almost immediately but you think he'd rather dig his own grave and neatly fold his hands over his chest as he buries himself at his own funeral before he admits that he likes you. calls you annoying but will drop everything if you text him that you need help. always saying dumb shit to you, or trying to make fun of you, but if someone else does? they're gone, like he's going to stalk them, find where they work, and get them fired from their job. texts you the stupidest things like 'if i was ugly, would you still love me?' 'i just saw an ugly baby. damn' 'what would do if i got arrested? be honest.' saw someone flirting with you once at like a fancy event, and rolled his eyes, pretending that he didn't give a flying fuck. ended up at the bathroom mirror, gripping the sink and trying not to throw up. if you ignore his texts, he's gonna send vaguely ominous messages, like 'answer me' followed by 'this is how it ends?' 'i'm leaving btw, i'm going to pack up and leave you forever and go live on my own in the wild.' you check his location and he's still at home. naoya thinks he's the prize in the relationship, he's not. definitely a pda menace, and he loves just kissing you in public.
hajime kashimo ☆ enemies to lovers but in that 'we met when we were fighting' way
your relationship is just him being reckless with no survival instinct, and you trying to keep your boyfriend alive. aka trying to stop him from licking the power outlet. will randomly challenge you to fights for no reason, never mind the fact that he'll feel bad and back out at the last minute. has no concept of personal space, and will stand nose to nose with you just to make you uncomfortable. if you back away, he's gonna follow you and ask where you're going. if someone flirts with you, he's not even going to do too much, just laugh in their face and ask the offender if they really thought they had a chance. kashimo has no concept of an inside voice at all, so god forbid you try to take him somewhere quiet. energy level always at 200% and it's a mission to even take him someplace like a grocery store. if you said 'i love you' first, it might have been the only time that someone else has bested him in something. hajime physically can't process emotions and goes green and pale (he loves you so much btw) and he looks vaguely ill at your confession. stares for five minutes before throwing himself at you. definitely a words of affirmation type of guy, instead of actions, because sometimes, he's all bark and no bite.
noritoshi kamo ☆ sweet, rom-com crush
he's actually a bit traditional, but very sweet. unfortunately, he's also so formal that it hurts sometimes. but it's fun when he asks you things like 'would you like to accompany me for an evening meal?' or 'shall we go for a stroll?' if you hold his hand, for the first few months, he sweats profusely but acts as though he's totally cool (narrator: he was not cool). lowkey believes that he doesn't deserve you and he absolutely treats you, the love of his life, like royalty. super observant and determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so you're never really left wanting for anything. if someone flirts with you, he doesn't really get jealous, but rather gets philosophical. 'it is natural for others to admire beauty such as yours. however, they must know it's not theirs to claim.' a key forefront runner of the sassy men apocalypse, even though you wouldn't be able to tell at the start. super quick-witted, but he's the type to keep his thoughts to himself, but luckily, he gets more comfortable sharing his jokes with you as times go on. blushes super easily, and he hates it because he thinks it ruins his aloof/mysterious guy persona.
#aka just random headcanons i had noted down but never posted#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento x reader#sukuna x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#choso x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#jjk fluff#gojo satoru#ryomen sukuna x reader#toji x reader#gojo fluff#daphworks#higuruma hiromi#higuruma x reader#hajime kashimo#hajime kashimo x reader#noritoshi kamo x reader#noritoshi kamo#naoya zenin#naoya zenin x reader#<- really expanded the list this time but im actually combining anon requests
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"Work Break Seduction."
ni-ki + f¡reader — ♡ 18+
WARNINGS — dom!ni-ki, sub¡reader, dirty talk, making out, cussing, rough sex, riki eats out reader, unprotected sex (stay safe dont do it.) pet names.
both characters are of age. (20+) not proofread, sorry if theres any errors. this is quite long but worth the read i promise!
Reader recently went into a new college and grew a school crush on Riki. Though he plays hard to get, your able to break his nonchalant demeanour.
Note : Riki was mostly requested, so enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
Your parents recently moved to a different town, which meant transferring to a new college. It wasn’t as bad as you expected, though you didn’t really know anyone there—but that was fine. At least your childhood friend, Jess, was with you.
A few weeks passed, and you found yourself constantly drawn to a boy—Riki. Girls flocked to him, yet he always brushed them off or rejected their advances. No one seemed to know much about him. He was distant, only ever seen around small groups. But that only made him more intriguing. The mystery surrounding him pulled you in, making you want to learn more about him.
The problem? He avoided everyone—including you. The only times you ever spoke were during school projects, and even then, the conversations were brief or short talk.
This morning, once again, you found yourself paired with Riki. It didn’t bother you as much, but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “Alright, your partners have been chosen. Get to work, project’s due in two days,” the teacher announced. You scanned the room for Riki, and then your eyes landed on him. He was leaning back in his chair, his posture casual and almost lazy. You knew you had to make the first move and approach him, or he’d likely ignore you the entire time.
You hated that you always had to be the one to approach him—it made you feel almost desperate. Yet, here you were, getting up and walking toward him. He watched as you pulled out your chair and sat down beside him. “Hi,” you said, glancing at him for a brief moment. He responded with a small nod, his usual way of acknowledging you.
You settle into the seat, trying to ignore the awkwardness that always seemed to hang between you two. The silence stretched for a moment, neither of you making any effort to start the project. You glance at him, but he’s already looking at his phone, clearly disinterested. Then, you let out a soft sigh, wishing he’d at least pretend to care. Finally deciding to break the silence. “So, uh… how do you want to split this up?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
He shrugs without looking up. “You can do whatever,” he mutters. You bite back a small frustration. Damn, you knew he wasn’t one for much conversation, but it always felt like pulling teeth to get him to participate. Yet, there was something about his indifference that kept you intrigued, even if it was maddening. “I guess I’ll start with the research,” you say, hoping for a bit more input. He doesn’t respond, but you take that as your cue to begin.
The next hour passes in relative silence, except for the occasional rustling of papers and the tapping of his phone. You focus on your work, trying not to pay attention to how he barely acknowledges your presence. Though you’re starting to get irritated by how you’re doing all the work while he’s just sitting there—eyes glued to his phone, doing nothing at all, you can’t bring yourself to get truly mad. Not when he looks this… handsome.
Should you try to start another conversation, hoping he might actually respond? You really wanted to get to know him better, maybe even get him to show a little interest in you, too. Fuck it, might as well, you really like him. "Prom is coming soon, you going out with anyone?" Thats the first thing that came to mind, it was a bit personal, but your curious. Maybe you can shoot your shot?
He finally lifts his head up from his phone, placing it on the desk and locks eyecontact with you. "Nah. Not interested in that typa stuff." For the first time, he actually seemed engaged, and it left you a little thrown off balance. "Why not?" You say, he gives you a shrug. "Why are you asking anyway?" He raises an eyebrow, your slightly taken by surprise when he asks, trying to make yourself sound less interested. "I'm just trying to conversate with you, I mean your quiet as fuck."
He lets out a deep, small chuckle that sounds rich, causing you to snap your eyes at him. Shit, he's really talking to you? "Yeah, well you could've asked me anything," he taps the desk with his fingertips, "But that was apparently the first thing that came to mind?" He rests his arm over the head of the chair, scanning your body for a moment which causes a small faint redness appear on your cheeks. "A bit bold of you, I'll give you credit for that."
You slightly roll your eyes, "How was that bold? I simply asked if you had a prom date or not." He finally sits up straight in his seat, running his hand through his short black hair which catches your attention. "Really?" He chuckles a bit, looking around the classroom.
You raise your eyebrow in slight confusion before he meets your gaze again, "C'mon now. You don't think i've noticed you staring at me?" Your eyes widen, he leans in closer and suddenly your heart starts to pound unbelievably fast. "Every single time we have a class together, I see you." his cold fingertips trails up your thigh, "Your into me? Aren't you? I mean thats why you asked me such a question." Your body freezes, shivers running down your spine.
How the fuck did he know?
"Thats not..." unable to finish your sentence with his hand making contact with your thigh. "Not true?" He says, his hands creeping down to pull your chair closer to him, the both of your knees brushing against eachother. His eyes dart down to your lips, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. Before you can say anything, the bell rings, interrupting the intense moment.
"We can uhm... finish this project later?" He leans back against his chair, acting totally careless about what just happened between you two. "Meet me at lunch." Is all he says before leaving the room. You know your face is beet red, but you dont even wanna see how you look right now. So then you start putting away the paper work into your bag, packing your stuff as he leaves the room, not looking back at you once. For a moment you just stand in the now empty class with a blank mind, trying to process everything that happened.
At lunch, you find yourself sitting at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, just as he asked. Your heart races a little, unsure of what to expect. You glance around, half-expecting him to bail, but then you spot him walking toward you, looking as casual as ever.
"Hey," Riki says, sliding into the seat across from you. His eyes briefly meet yours before he looks down at the table. "Hi," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your nerves are on edge. There’s a moment of silence between you two, the kind that always seemed to stretch on forever. You want to fill it with something, but words feel like they’re just out of reach.
Finally, he speaks again. "So, what’s your deal?" You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugs, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before looking away again. "Like, why are you always tryna talk to me. You barely know me." His bluntness takes you by surprise, but somehow it doesn’t feel as cold as you thought it would. It’s almost… honest.
You take a deep breath. "I don’t know. You’re just different, you know? It’s hard to ignore." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'll take that as a compliment I guess."
"I mean yeah, like you’re this whole mystery. I just want to figure you out." For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he leans back in his seat, his gaze lingering on you a little longer. You feel like he’s reading you, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s trying to figure you out too. Then, without warning, he leans forward, closing the space between you. His hand brushes against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
"Well," he says, voice low, "maybe you’ll find out soon." Before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. It’s sudden, soft at first, but the intensity quickly builds, and everything else fades away. The warmth of his mouth against yours leaves you breathless, and for a moment, everything feels completely different, like this is where you’re supposed to be.
When he pulls away, you’re left dazed, trying to catch your breath. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of something—something you can’t quite place. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a little rough. You nod, still in shock, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think I’m more than okay." You bite your lower lip slightly, blushing profusely.
You both sit there for a moment, the air thick with tension and a thousand unspoken words. Your heart is still racing, but now, it's not from nerves. It's from the overwhelming feeling that something has shifted between you two. He doesn't move away, instead, his eyes search yours, almost like he's waiting for something.
Your mind is swirling, but your body seems to take over, leaning in closer, lips barely brushing against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his presence pulling you in with a force you can't resist. Without thinking, you kiss him again— this time deeper, more urgent. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing the skin as he pulls you in, his other hand sliding to your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest as he kisses you back with a hunger you didn't expect.
It's nothing like the first kiss-this one is raw, a mix of desire and need. You feel his fingers trace the line of your jaw, his touch almost desperate, and it sends a rush of heat through you. Your hands instinctively find his shirt, tugging him closer, as if you can't get enough of him.
His lips move with yours, more demanding now, and you match his intensity, breathless and wanting more. You can't explain it, but everything about him feels right-how he holds you, how his lips mold against yours, like this was always meant to happen. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat building between you two. The kiss deepens, and everything else disappears-there's only him, only this moment.
When Riki pulls away, both of you are panting, eyes locked, faces inches apart. "You sure about this?" he asks, his voice husky. You nod, trusting your voice.
You're sure. You want this. You want him.
Without saying another word, he tilts his head toward a washroom near by the cafeteria. Afterall you both can't do anything with people around, so that was the only option. You get up, your heart beating even faster as he follows behind you. He pushes you into one of the stalls, locking it behind you.
He slowly turns around, pushing your back against the wall and his lips are on yours again, and this time, it feels like the beginning of something that neither of you can pull away from. The kiss continues, deepening with each passing second. His hands move, exploring, pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you either. The way he holds you makes everything else fade into the background-the noise of the cafeteria, the people walking by the washroom, it all feels distant and irrelevant.
You feel his breath against your lips, a slight tremor in his touch as his fingers trace the curve of your back. Your own hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pull him in even closer, wanting more of him. You can taste the faint trace of mint on his breath, and it only makes you crave him more.
Riki slowly pulls away from the kiss, the both of you breathless. Finally his hand slides down your thigh, inching under your skirt. "Can I?" He grunts out as you nod at him almost instantly. "Starting to think you've wanted this for a while now," he chuckles, slipping his hands underneath your skirt and groping your ass, a small moan escaping your lips. "S-shut up will you?" He smirks, his lips trail down, leaving wet kisses down your neck. 
You press your lips tightly together, glaring at him playfully. You can't help but feel a surge of need. It's like you're both fighting the same battle, giving in to something that's been building up for weeks. Suddenly you find your hand guiding his further up your skirt.
Riki doesn't hesitate, immediately shoving your hand aside and tearing your panties apart with his hands. He gets down on his knees and buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your dripping folds without warning like a starved man. Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, looking down at him in slight surprise. "Fuck, you're so wet." He growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs.
He groans as he feels your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your delicious moans spurring him on. He alternates between long, teasing licks and quick flicks against your clit, savoring your sweet taste. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you harder against his face. "F...fuck ah mmph.." Your back arches against the wall, clawing at it slightly as you try to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to hear.
He hooks his arms around your legs and throws them over his shoulders, opening you up even wider. He laps his tongue greedily around your clit, determined to make you come on his face before he allows himself to enter you. "Mmh." He groans against your pussy, your body shaking slightly from the vibration. "A-ah Riki..." The stall gets filled up with slurping sounds along with your quiet desperate moans.
He slightly pulls back, looking up at you with half closed eyes. Your breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Riki or daddy?" He licks his lower lip slightly, smirking a bit as he sees your widened eyes. "I..I am not calling you that weirdo." He tilts his head back, "Hey hey, it was just a suggestion."
"I'll think... about it." You whisper embarrassed, turning a light shade of red when he lets out a quiet chuckle. "Thats my good girl." Your legs slightly tremble at the name, butterflies forming in your stomach before he spreads your legs wider, feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. He growls against your cunt when you reach down to grip his hair. Your about to reach your climax and he knows it.
"I-I'm gonna-" you whine out, the sound echoes around the empty washroom. Riki snaps his mouth against your clit, sucking hard. "Come on my face, baby." His tongue laps up your juices, going fast and hard against your sensitive nub. "Give it to me." His words are more than enough for you to reach your high, finding yourself cumming all over his face, your thighs shaking violently while you try your hardest not to scream from the pleasure.
He feels your body convulse with your climax. He spreads your legs wider, pushing them back almost painfully, allowing him deeper access. His tongue goes wild, licking and sucking every last bit of your juice. He growls softly against your pussy before pulling back, licking your release off his lips. You suck in a moan, looking down at him.
Riki's cock is aching against his jeans, begging to be free. "P-please." He hears your soft beg. He unbuckles his belt slowly, eyes darkening. "Do you want my dick?" His voice is deep, seeing you slowly nod your head. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his throbbing cock. He strokes himself slowly, letting you admire his impressive size. A droplet of precum pearls at the tip as he grunts. You stare intently, gulping at his length, "You're..."
He steps forward, turning you around and lifting your ass up, rubbing the head against your sensitive entrance. "Yeah? Think you can take it?" His voice is thick with desire as he pushes the tip just slightly inside you, a loud gasp escaping your mouth. "So far for being quiet." Riki says teasingly as you glare up at him playfully, swallowing hard. "I-I'm trying my hardest," He chuckles while pushing in slightly more, filling you with just the tip. "Am I too big?" He grunts, your hands going up to grip his shoulders tightly.
"I-I can take it.." you whimper out. "You sure?" He feeds you another inch, making you wince slightly. He watches your face closely. "Tsk, you're only halfway there." He pulls back slightly then pushes in another inch, hitting a new spot inside you which causes your mouth to open wide. "You really can take my whole dick? Don't wanna hurt you." His voice drops lower.
You just nod, desperation taking over you. "Good girl." He praises darkly, then grips your hips tightly and slams his hips forward, impaling you completely on his massive length. For a second, your vision gets blurry, the pleasure overwhelming. "Fuck!" He roars as he bottoms out inside you, gripping on your hips tightly. You let out a loud straining moan before hearing someone walk into the washroom.
The both of you freeze, and Riki doesn't move inside you just yet. Your slightly panicking but he doesn't seem to care because he begins to grind his hips slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. Your mouth opens wide, but he quickly covers it with his hand, leaning down and whispers against your ear, "That pussy just swallowed every inch of my cock like such a good girl." His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you open wider. You swallow hard, whimpering against his palm. "Shh, don't wanna get caught do you?"
Finally that person seems to leave — and Riki's hand leaves your mouth. His thick shaft drags in and out of your tight, soaked pussy at a brutal pace. Each thrust makes you wince and whimper, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room. "F-fuck ah.. Riki-" You roll your eyes back, your mind becoming blank.
He can feel your gentle scratches against his back as he pounds into you, his hands tightening on your thighs. "Fuck, baby. This what you wanted? My dick destroying your insides?" You nod, opening your mouth to speak but words come out as moans instead. He pulls your hips further up to get deeper inside you. He leans forward, his mouth finding yours in a harsh, bruising kiss as he continues to rut into you.
He groans loudly into the kiss as he feels your pussy clench tightly around his throbbing shaft before breaking the kiss, panting heavily. "Shit, you're squeezing me so fucking tight." He adjusts his angle, deliberately targeting your G-spot with every powerful thrust.
Your trying to grip on the walls, but your fingers slip. "G-gonna cum..." His eyes darken with lust at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "Cum for me, baby. Milk my dick with that tight cunt." He reaches down and circles his thumb over your clit, applying pressure in time with his thrusts.
And with that, He feels your release bathe his length, making him groan loudly. Your pussy pulses around him tightly, almost painfully. He pumps into you erratically, losing his rhythm. He lowers his head and watches as your fluids coat his shaft, making it glide easily in and out of your body.
He pants heavily, finally unleashing his pent up load deep inside of your wet cunt. Your back arches against him as he does so, the both of you letting out loud moans from the feeling. Then he pulls out slowly, his cock glistening with your juices. "Fuck." He holds your waist and you tremble, putting your whole body weight on him since your struggling to stand.
The bathroom stall feels too small now, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You’re both still breathing heavily, and there’s a quiet, almost uncomfortable stillness between you.
He leans back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to process everything. You do the same, your mind racing a little. It’s strange how quickly things shifted, how in the span of just a few minutes, everything between you changed. You glance over at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both just sitting there in the aftermath, unsure of what to say next.
"So… that happened," you murmur, trying to break the silence. He lets out a small laugh, but it’s low, more to himself than anything. “Yeah. Guess it did.” His voice sounds different now, less guarded, but there’s still that underlying tension. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or nervous. A mix of both. "I didn’t expect it to happen like this, especially here." He looks around the cramped stall, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Neither did I. But… it’s not the worst place, I guess."
You roll your eyes, half-smiling. “So… what now?” you ask, the question hanging in the air between you. He pauses, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he looks at you, his gaze steady. "I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be a one-time thing." You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. "Neither do I."
💘: thank you so much for all your support on my storiesss!! i didnt expect anyone to like them, so thank youu!!!🥹💕💕 ill get to the rest of the requests soon, im currently busy w school so itll take some time, thanks for your patience🫶
#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#niki smut#niki x reader#enhypen fanfic#niki hard hours#niki hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#niki fanfic
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I’ll admit it - thinking of ‘but what will people think of me?’ has stopped me short of writing things before, in everything from writing actual content to writing part of a review on a friend’s story. “What will [Friend] think, seeing that I know that? Even if I explain the actually relatively innocuous reason why I know it, would they even believe me? This is an issue of how something is portrayed in media that I feel pretty strongly about, but in context, it might be better to just…drop it.”
I…tried actually including a detailed example of my next point here, drawing from Anon’s Robert Jordan remark, but it ended up breaking the thousand-word limit before I even got past the introductory explanations, so I guess I’ll write a separate essay about why I don’t really agree with the “dudebro is secretly obsessed with lesbians and BDSM” line of thinking, maybe link it back here later if I remember. In the meantime, the point was - if I start thinking “dang, I think Author X has an Issue with Y,” it’s usually a lot less because of what the author leaves in than what the author leaves out. As an author, one deliberately chooses to explore certain topics, including dark ones that reflect the issues that preoccupy us (isn’t Anne Rice’s work supposed to be kinda messed up? I mean, I’ve never read a word she wrote that I can recall, but aren’t they all, y’know, horror novels?). As distasteful as we might find it, incest and pedophilia and sexual assault and suicide and all those other words you can’t use on YouTube are real things that happen every day. There’s a plethora of reasons why any given author might want to explore such issues in writing, and at least half of ‘em have nothing to do with sex. I’ve never heard anyone imply that Dostoyevsky must have been really, really turned on by the thought of attacking pawnbrokers with axes, much less that he ever committed a murder in real life just for the heck of it. From what I’ve read - though to be fair, my reading on the subject is not extensive - Nabokov probably wasn’t really a pedophile, and Mario Puzo probably had nothing to do with real-life organized crime. I have heard a few people suggest Stephen King must be a perverted serial killer in real life to write what he writes, but those people were idiots. And so forth. Point is, an author examining evil through a certain point of view really should not lead to the assumption that the author has done or wants to do any of those bad things. That’s why we say that authors use their imaginations when they’re working.
Plus, well…nine times out of ten, nobody’s going to make you read a book. If you really can’t read a book without getting uncomfortable because you can’t stop thinking that X or Y means that the author might have wanted his wife to put him on a leash and spank him, you can almost always just…put down the book and go read something else. You can also do this if you’re uncomfortable with Anne Rice apparently having conflicting feelings about God - that isn’t a potential theme that bothers me, but I know people who would be upset for days about reading something that even hinted at someone Having Questions about the divine. Heck, I have a few books I 99% enjoy and I just skim over or entirely skip parts that involve actions I find uncomfortable - my one hard rule is that I won’t willingly even skim anything where bad things happen to pets, but even then, I don’t assume that everybody who ever earned a Newbury Medal is a bad person who likes thinking about such things. I just don’t read their books. Unless you are compelled to do otherwise for a class* or the like, just do thou likewise.
*I was, very reluctantly, compelled to read two books in my undergraduate Adolescent Literature class where bad things happened to dogs; it was the first and last time in my life that I’ve ever tried to get out of reading something, but the professor didn’t believe what I could bring myself to explain about just how negative of a reaction I knew I would have if I read any books with dying dogs in them. Now I still have one of those scenes lodged in my carousel of intrusive thoughts that drive my anxiety level up and make it really difficult not to engage in compulsive behaviors whenever they rudely shove their way up to the front of my brain, but I don’t think badly of Sherman Alexie because of it.
Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?
Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.
Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!
But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"
Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.
I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.
Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.
But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.
Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.
Also, we don't censor words here.
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Okay, so, fucking PSA. Please read if you're interested in helping either Robert Kurvitz, the Disco Elysium team, or the Internet Archive:
DO NOT CLAIM THAT KURVITZ UPLOADED A COPY OF DISCO ELISYUM ON THE INTERNET ARCHIVE, REPORT THE UPLOAD, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
Internet Archive:
I'm a person that enjoys community projects like the Internet Archive. They hold crucial positions in public knowledge and do not deserve to be labeled "piracy dens" and do not deserve the legal difficulties associated. By sharing copies of software whose copyright holders still actually care instead of reporting them, you are putting the Internet Archive at risk. Once the Internet Archive gets sued into oblivion, you will no longer have the wayback machine, thousands of copies of scans of rare books and boxes will be lost, and endless piles of abandonware trapped in long outdated storage mediums and standards will no longer be used again. And even worse, once corporations learn that legal pressure is enough to take out public knowledge, they will press down hard on services like the ones Wikimedia offers (that includes wikipedia if you're unaware). Say goodbye to the crowdsourced knowledge of old, and hello to corporate refined knowledge, likely alot of which is AI generated.
Robert Kurvitz
Robert Kurvitz has a very poor relationship with ZA/UM and thus, it doesn't take long to tie a motive to him publishing pirated copies of DE. And as he's the one with the motive and not Internet Archive, it's entirely possible legal action could be pointed at Kurvitz instead or worse, also. And that's where the problem occurs... people keep claiming the file was uploaded by Kurvitz himself. But that's a claim made by the uninformed. The way the Internet Archive works is that each file uploaded is primarily credited to their original authors with credit to the uploader placed to the side. However, people sharing the file are claiming that, due to a misunderstanding, Kurvitz is the one who uploaded the file. When in reality, it was a person using a pseudonym. This simple mistake can undoubtedly prove disastrous.
The DE Team
There's no doubt that the team behind DE were immensely fucked over. And we truly need to fight against that scumbaggery. So, how do you support the DE team? First off, don't pay for DE. And if you're not willing to go to the greynet, just don't fucking play the game. I'm sorry, but hosting pirated games on honest sites like the IA just causes more trouble than needed. Also, please, do not share links to pirated copies and more importantly, don't try claiming the devs endorse piracy. Even if they do. Corporations are little shits that like to sue you over everything.
I don't know if any of that makes any sense. But thank you anyways for reading this.
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I love that Phu was wearing his teddy bear pajamas when he got blown by Cir
And I love it specifically because it flies in the face of a rather unfortunate trend that's always been present but that has been on my mind a lot lately.
A couple of months ago, I came across a post that referred to Teerak from Your Sky as "basically a child" and went in on the show for portraying him in any sort of sexual light and then went in on Muenfah and criticized him for wanting to do anything remotely sexual with Teerak and just—
No. NO. NO!
Listen, I don't give a fuck how someone interprets a character even if I disagree on every possible level. Art is subjective. How someone sees the art they consume and what they get out of it is none of my fucking business.
But there's this awful tendency to conflate cuteness with immaturity and to infantilize any character that exhibits any traits or preferences that can be read as cute. Hell, sometimes even a character's appearance is all it takes for them to be infantilized.
And it's always the same shit. If a character is shy, soft-spoken, bubbly, cheerful, or sweet, they're seen as a child. If they have plushies and enjoy lots of color, they're seen as a child. Act cute? Child. Like cute things? Child. Shorter than their love interest? Child. Younger than their love interest? Child.
Fucking STOP.
The person who made the post I referred to used a screenshot of Teerak hugging his Snoopy plush to somehow justify their interpretation and you know what? LIKING PLUSHIES AND CUTE THINGS DOES NOT MAKE SOMEONE """"BASICALLY A CHILD"""".
Whether or not a character (or a real actual person) likes cute things or happens to be sweet and soft-spoken and shy has nothing to do with how mature they are and it certainly says nothing about their sexuality and sexual desires. I turn 31 years old in just over a week and there are plushies on my bed. I put hearts all over my blog. Liking cute things just means you like cute things! That's all!
Teerak is adorable and colorful and sweet, and he's also a young man who's deliriously in love and HORNY for his boyfriend. He ALWAYS wanted to fuck that man and if he hesitated at first, it was due only to his lack of experience. Nothing else.
Which is partly why this scene:
Was so fucking great to watch. Not just because Teerak wanted to fuck his boyfriend and made his intent crystal clear and took the initiative, but because he was allowed to by the story. @iguessitsjustme wrote a great post about it, go give it a read.
More and more we're seeing BL's where both characters (THE CUTE ONES INCLUDED) are allowed and shown to want each other sexually and it's been amazing to see. Mutual horniness will never not be amazing to see.
Allll of that is why I love that Phukan was in his teddy bear pajamas in his love scene with Cir. Because like Teerak, Phukan is exactly the type of character that gets infantilized and that people get all pearl-clutchy about when he's portrayed doing anything sexual.
Phu is adorable and colorful and he likes being babied and he collects those cute little trinket things I can't remember the name of and he ALSO REALLY WANTS TO FUCK CIRRUS. To quote @poetry-protest-pornography , he was an active and enthusiastic participant in his first blowjob and that's exactly as it should be regardless of what he's wearing or what he likes! He's a full person with a functioning libido and I'm so happy and grateful that the story isn't infantilizing him.
TL;DR, some of ya'll have got to let go of the notion that a character being/acting cute and them experiencing sexual desire are mutually exclusive.
#don't even get me STARTED on how people infantilize the actors who play these roles as well#we'd be here all fucking day#conversations with leah#your sky#your sky the series#the boy next world#the boy next world the series
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Seen a lot of people complaining about this and I just thought I'd throw my 2 cents/interpretation into the ring.
Dick is too handsome: Dating comes easy to him because he's attractive, he will have nothing helpful to add to the conversation. (AKA; Assumes Dick has never had to work to impress a person.)
Stephanie is too female: Stupid boys being boys vibes- assuming that Stephanie cannot answer his questions because she has not experienced what he is going through from the pov of a guy. Forgetting the fact that he is taking a girl on a date, so actually a female perspective would be beneficial.
Jason only has one-night stands: Damian has never seen, heard, or even thought about Jason dating anybody ever, but knows that he is on dating apps. Assumes at the very least Jay is getting laid on the short term, when in fact, whatever Jason is or isn't doing; he's keeping it extremely private because that's just how he is.
Damian is very smart, but he's also a teenage boy, and even the smartest teenagers are really dumb when it comes to this kinda stuff.
Basically what I'm trying to say is don't take these lines as canon or 'bad writing', they're not supposed to be meaningful in anyway, they're just Damian grasping at straws to get Tim to help him in his hour of need.
Or ya know, ignore me. I'm just a rando on the internet, enjoy stuff however you want.
#gilverrrambles#dc#lex in the city#damian wayne#tim drake#dick grayson#stephanie brown#jason todd#robin#red robin#nightwing#dc spoiler#red hood
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take two ⤨ iwaizumi hajime
⨭ genre; fluff, idiots to lovers but like they're actually so dumb
⨭ pairing; iwaizumi x fem!reader
⨭ word count; 5.7k
⨭ descriptions; your boss has been trying to set you up with her son for months, but as it turns out at the holiday party... you've already met him before.
⨭ warnings; explicit language and dialogue, no graphic content tho, alcohol
⨭ a/n; fun little short fic to fill the fix to publish something lolol enjoy this iwa love dump as i work on my next long fic (tell me in the comments if y'all like these better)
one.
There are exactly three things you know to be true about Iwaizumi Emi:
She is the best divorce attorney in Tohoku, possibly the country.
She is the kind of woman who could negotiate her way out of murder charges and secure the victim’s house in the settlement.
She is, without a doubt, trying to set you up with her son.
You respect her. You admire her. You are, on occasion, lowkey terrified of her.
Which is why you’re currently sitting at your desk, nodding at all the appropriate intervals while she breezes through yet another pitch about why her son and you are, in her professional opinion, a perfect match.
“He’s back from Irvine for the summer,” she says, skimming a property settlement document like it personally offended her. She tosses it onto your pile nonchalantly, and you let out a short sigh because it’s just more backend filing to do and, despite your adoration for your career path and real passion towards legal work, entry jobs in the firm are mostly busy work. “I really think you’ll like him. He’s—”
You tune out. Not in an obvious way, of course—no, you’re a professional. You sprinkle in the occasional mmhmm and sounds great so she doesn’t catch on, but this isn’t your first rodeo. You’ve heard this pitch before—multiple times. Hajime is intelligent, responsible, not an idiot like some of these men out here, blah blah blah.
It’s not that you have anything against him, really. It’s just that you’ve spent months perfecting the art of dodging your boss’s matchmaking attempts, and frankly, you don’t have the energy to entertain her latest scheme.
“You’re finally going to meet him at the firm’s ball this weekend,” Emi continues, finally looking up from her paperwork, her smile entirely too satisfied.
You blink. “Oh.”
“He’s excited to meet you too.”
Now that is new. Usually, these monologues are strictly one-sided—I told him about you! and You two will get along so well! But he’s excited to meet you too? That’s an escalation. That’s a game-changer. That means he knows about you. He has an opinion about you.
You resist the urge to groan. Instead, you summon a polite, professional smile—the same one you use when dealing with particularly insufferable clients. “Looking forward to it,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the woman who could single-handedly end your career if she wanted to?
In reality, the only thing you’re looking forward to about the ball is the open bar. Being in your early twenties means being woefully broke, and you’d be lying if you said the thought of unlimited free alcohol wasn’t a strong motivator.
So, you strike a deal with yourself: you’ll put on a fancy dress, endure painful heels, and let Emi parade you in front of her son like a prize show poodle—all in exchange for an endless supply of pinot noir, cocktail shrimp, and, if you play your cards right, an entire bottle of champagne to sneak home in your purse.
It’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.
two.
Because you’re an adult with an absolutely thriving social life (read: you have two friends who are willing to tolerate your bullshit after 6 PM), you, Yachi, and Kiyoko are now seated at your favorite little izakaya, wedged into a corner booth with plates of karaage and a pitcher of beer between you.
Kiyoko is talking about wedding venues. Because she’s engaged. To Tanaka. Which is objectively insane because in your head, they’re still in that “grossly obsessed with each other but pretending they’re just friends” phase, even though they’ve been together for years. The whole thing is a crime against single people everywhere, but you are supportive because your already jaw-dropping friend is somehow glowing even brighter now that she has a fat rock on her ring finger. She looks lighter, happier. She deserves it.
Yachi, meanwhile, is explaining—between delicate sips of her beer—that she’s too swamped with work to even think about dating. Which, yeah. Fair. The woman works harder than most people you know, so you respect it.
Then, as the conversation naturally shifts to your love life (as it always does, because you’re the group’s designated mess), you sigh, sinking into your seat dramatically.
“I haven’t had sex in months.”
There’s a beat of silence before Kiyoko and Yachi both roll their eyes in unison, like they rehearsed it.
“Oh my God,” Yachi mutters.
“You cannot still be caught up on GDD,” Kiyoko says flatly, pouring herself another drink.
“Okay, first of all,” you say, holding up a finger, “it is not about him. It’s just a general fact about my current state of being.”
“Uh-huh,” Kiyoko hums, entirely unconvinced.
“Second of all,” you continue, undeterred, “GDD was life-changing, and I feel like I should be allowed to mourn the lack of that level of—of excellence in my life.”
“Life-changing,” Yachi repeats, deadpan. “You hooked up with him once.”
“Yeah, and my life was changed.”
GDD—Good Dick Dude, as he has been dubbed by your dear, unsupportive friends—was a guy you hooked up with in January after a truly legendary New Year’s Eve party.
The night itself had been pure chaos. Hinata had somehow scored an invite to this insane rooftop party—one of those bougie, exclusive, if-you-know-you-know events where you absolutely do not belong but somehow manage to fake it enough to get through the door. He’d gotten a few plus-ones, which is how you ended up there, sipping champagne you definitely couldn’t afford and making out with a guy who, to this day, remains one of the most mind-blowing hookups of your entire life.
Gorgeous, buff, and dangerous with his hands. The kind of guy who knew exactly what he was doing, which, honestly? A rarity these days. You barely remember his name—something short, easy to moan—but you do remember his stupidly perfect smirk and the way he all but ruined you against the nearest flat surface.
But then the party ended, the night faded into a haze, and you never saw him again.
Which is fine. It’s fine. Really.
You’re definitely not still thinking about it.
Kiyoko takes a sip of her beer, unimpressed. “You’ve been on, what? Five Hinge dates since then? Six?”
“Seven,” Yachi corrects.
You point at her. “Exactly.”
Kiyoko gives you a long, slow blink.
“I mean that as proof that I am not hung up on him!” you clarify. “I’ve been trying, okay? But the bar is in hell. Do you know how many ‘we should get drinks’ texts I get from guys who put crypto investor in their bios?”
Kiyoko sighs. “Okay, but let’s be real—are you actually giving any of these guys a chance?”
You open your mouth. Close it. Frown. “I mean… like… conceptually?”
“Right.”
Yachi, forever gentle but devastatingly perceptive, tilts her head at you. “Is it possible,” she says carefully, “that maybe none of these guys are measuring up because you’re subconsciously comparing them to him?”
You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”
Is it ridiculous?
Because, okay, maybe—just maybe—no one has quite lived up to that night. And maybe you’re being a little unfair to the dating pool by expecting every single guy to have that same kind of chemistry with you. And maybe you do occasionally find yourself staring at random ceilings, wondering where GDD is now and if he even remembers you.
But still. That doesn’t mean anything.
You’re pretty sure.
“I hate you guys,” you grumble, stabbing aggressively at a piece of karaage.
Yachi pats your hand sympathetically. “We know.”
Kiyoko, ever the queen of smooth topic transitions, nudges the conversation in a new direction. “Speaking of your questionable taste in men, your boss is still trying to set you up with her son, correct?”
You groan, letting your head fall back against the booth. “Unfortunately, yes. And now, apparently, he’s excited to meet me.”
Yachi perks up. “Wait, so you are meeting him?”
“At the firm’s ball this weekend,” you say, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll get a little wine drunk, take advantage of the seafood bar.”
Kiyoko raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re not going to entertain the idea of this Hajime guy at all?”
You scoff. “Absolutely not.”
Yachi hums, tilting her head in that way she does when she’s about to say something devastatingly reasonable. “I mean… what if Emi’s right?”
You blink. “What?”
“What if this is it?” she says, half-teasing, half-genuinely curious. “Like, what if you meet him and he’s actually your soulmate? Imagine if this whole time, your boss has been playing the long game, orchestrating your love story like some kind of corporate fairy godmother.”
You snort. Loudly. “Right. Because that’s totally my luck.”
Kiyoko and Yachi exchange a knowing look, but they let it go.
You take another sip of your beer, shaking your head. Hajime Iwaizumi—whoever he is—is not the love of your life.
That would be insane.
three.
You had to pull out your graduate school formal gown from the back of your closet for this, but wow, you really forgot just how good you look in red.
Your day-to-day work attire consists of pantsuits and button-ups, neatly tucked into cautiously ironed trousers, so you’ve honestly forgotten how nice it is to get dressed up once in a while. There’s something about slipping into a gown that fits like a dream, sweeping your hair up just right, and swiping on that perfect shade of lipstick that makes you feel invincible. Like you could negotiate a million-dollar deal, steal the firm’s best clients, and seduce someone’s husband all in the same breath.
Not that you would, obviously.
Probably.
The venue is ridiculous in the way all law firm events are ridiculous—held in a ballroom large enough to house a small country, chandeliers dripping in gold, servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne and fancy bruschetta topped with fucking caviar of all things. All this just to celebrate another year of making money off people’s divorces. Incredible the way capitalism works.
You’ve barely made it through your first glass of wine before Emi finds you.
“There she is,” she croons, linking her arm through yours. She looks positively radiant in an emerald gown, diamonds at her ears, and the kind of effortless elegance that comes from winning. You’d respect it more if she weren’t actively dragging you toward your inevitable doom. “Come on, sweetheart. Hajime’s here, and I cannot wait for you two to finally meet.”
You bite back a sigh, because of course. No warm-up period, no buffer—just straight to the matchmaking. “Can’t I get a few more drinks in me first?”
She waves a hand, utterly dismissing your complaints. “You’ll like him. I know you will.”
You doubt it. But you let her lead you anyway, mostly because you know resisting is pointless: your boss has the world’s most spell-blinding smile and enough charm to always get her way. Emi always wins.
She stops near the bar, where a man stands with his back to you, broad shoulders wrapped in a sharp black suit, one hand resting on the counter as he talks with someone just out of view.
Emi squeezes your hand. “Hajime,” she calls, her voice warm.
The man turns.
And every thought in your head immediately ceases to exist.
Because standing before you, looking unfairly good in a tailored suit and sipping from a glass of whiskey like he isn’t single-handedly ruining your life, is GDD.
Good Dick Dude.
Hajime Iwaizumi is Good Dick Dude.
Your brain short-circuits. This is not happening. This is some kind of fever dream, a cruel trick played by the universe to punish you for your sins.
Hajime’s sharp green eyes land on you, recognition flickering behind them, and then—oh no.
He smirks. Like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind right now. Like he remembers everything.
Emi, completely unaware of your crisis, beams. “Hajime, this is the associate I’ve been telling you about.”
His mischievous, more than just amused smile widens. “Oh, I know who she is.”
Your soul leaves your body.
Because that voice? That voice is the same one that had whispered filth against your neck four months ago. The same voice that had laughed when you moaned his name. The same voice that had ruined you in ways you still haven’t fully recovered from.
You are going to die. Right here, right now, in the middle of this godforsaken gala.
“Hajime Iwaizumi,” he says smoothly, offering a hand. His palm is rough when you take it—calloused, strong, a stark reminder of exactly where those hands have been. His grip is firm, steady, and entirely too knowing.
You swallow, pasting on the best Oh wow, I am totally not spiraling internally smile you can manage. “Yeah,” you say weakly. “We’ve met.”
“Oh!” Emi beams, clasping her hands together like she’s just delighted by this new revelation. “That’s wonderful! I knew you two would get along.”
You let out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a strangled choke. Hajime is still watching you, head tilted slightly, like he’s enjoying this: like he can see the exact moment you realize how deeply, horrifically screwed you are. Because there is no way Emi knows. She’s too composed, too pleased. If she had any inkling that her son and her associate had met four months ago in a completely inappropriate context, she’d have you both buried in litigation faster than you could say conflict of interest.
Which means Hajime is choosing to be a menace.
God, you’re going to kill him.
“Hajime just got back from Irvine a few days ago, for the start of his summer break,” Emi continues, completely oblivious to the absolute war waging behind your polite smile. “I’ve been telling him all about you, of course.”
You almost choke on your drink. “You have?”
“Of course I have!” Emi nods enthusiastically. “She’s one of the brightest associates we have, Hajime. Sharp, diligent, absolutely ruthless in negotiations—she reminds me of myself when I was her age.”
Your lips twitch. You do enjoy being compared to the most terrifying woman you’ve ever met, so it’s really too bad that this entire situation has you currently dying inside.
Hajime hums, eyes still locked on you. “Yeah,” he says, voice dipping just slightly. “She’s definitely memorable.”
Your entire body lights on fire.
Memorable.
Oh, he’s being insufferable on purpose.
Emi sighs happily, taking a sip of her champagne. “I knew you two would hit it off.”
You want to scream. You want to throw your drink in Hajime’s face. You want to rewind time and never step foot into that rooftop party.
Instead, you just smile tightly. “Mm-hmm.”
Hajime grins at your suffering. “So,” he says, tilting his glass in your direction, “how have you been?”
You resist the urge to kick him in the shins. “Busy,” you say, voice clipped. “Working.”
“Ah,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that does sound like you.”
You stiffen. Hajime, you realize, is having the time of his life watching you squirm. And it’s only going to get worse.
Because Emi suddenly claps her hands together, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh! I should leave you two to chat,” she says. “Get to know each other properly.”
Oh. Oh no. Emi. Emi, please.
But before you can protest, she winks at you—winks, like she’s a fairy godmother orchestrating the perfect romance—and disappears back into the crowd.
And just like that, you are alone with him.
Hajime watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes gleaming with amusement. “So,” he says, smirking, “I see you haven’t forgotten me.”
Your jaw clenches. “You smug little—”
“You look good,” he interrupts smoothly, scanning you from head to toe. His gaze lingers, appreciative but blatantly teasing. “Red suits you.”
God, you want to strangle him. You cross your arms, willing yourself to stay calm. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”
He chuckles. “I had a feeling.”
“A feeling?”
He tilts his head, as if contemplating. “Well,” he says, “it wasn’t confirmed until I saw you.”
You glare. “You could’ve warned me.”
“And miss that reaction?” He grins. “Not a chance.”
You hate him. You hate that he looks so effortlessly good in a suit. You hate that his voice is still just as devastating as you remember. You hate that even now, months later, you can still feel the phantom weight of his hands on your hips, the rough scrape of his callouses against your skin, the way he had murmured just like that, baby against your ear—
You inhale sharply. Nope. Absolutely not. We are not thinking about that right now.
Hajime, unfortunately, definitely knows what you’re thinking about. His smirk is downright criminal. “So,” he says, leaning in slightly, voice low, “been a while, hasn’t it?”
You refuse to give him the satisfaction of blushing. “Oh, shut up.”
He laughs, warm and amused, and you are horribly aware that this night is only just beginning.
four.
Hajime happens to actually be a pretty intelligent and funny person, which is making it much, much harder to dodge his attempts at flirting and his mother’s attempts at forced-proximity matchmaking.
It was supposed to be easy. You were supposed to sip your wine, endure some polite small talk, and then fade into the crowd before Emi could corner you into any serious you’d make such a beautiful couple talk. But instead, you’re somehow still here, talking to him, because Hajime Iwaizumi is annoyingly easy to talk to.
Which is not fair. It’s not fair at all, actually.
He makes it look effortless, like this isn’t completely unhinged, like it’s not absolutely deranged that your boss has spent months trying to set you up with a man who has already—
You take a sip of your wine. You are not going to finish that thought.
Hajime watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, looking entirely too entertained by this whole situation. “You seem tense.”
“Gee, I wonder why.”
His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t argue. “Hey, could be worse,” he says. “At least my mom has good taste.”
You choke on your sip, feeling the bubbles tingle in your nose and really regretting every life decision you’ve made in the last six months. “Oh, my God.”
He laughs, tilting his glass in a mock toast.
You squint at him, wary and slightly annoyed, unable to fathom how he’s not also dying at this situation. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“I mean…” He shrugs, all easy amusement. “I’m just saying—this could be a lot worse. Imagine if she was trying to set you up with someone actually terrible.”
“I don’t know,” you mutter, swirling your wine. “You’re already pretty high on my list of worst-case scenarios.”
“See, now that hurts.”
You roll your eyes. “You’ll live.”
Before Hajime can respond—before you can regain any sense of control over this conversation—Emi appears out of nowhere, her eyes shining.
“There you two are!” she says, absolutely beaming. “It’s time for the first dance!”
You freeze.
Hajime—the absolute traitor—just raises an eyebrow. “First dance?”
“Yes! It’s tradition,” Emi says, already ushering you toward the ballroom floor. “Senior partners and their dates open the dance floor—it’s been that way for years.”
You dig your heels into the floor. “But I’m not—”
“Now, sweetheart,” Emi interrupts, entirely ignoring your panic, “you wouldn’t want to break tradition, would you?”
You stare at her, betrayed.
She smiles.
Oh, she planned this.
Hajime, standing beside you, lets out a quiet, amused sigh before draining the last of his whiskey. “Well,” he says, offering you a hand, “guess we should give the people what they want.”
You glare at him. “I hate you.”
“Uh-huh,” he says. “That’s why you’re still holding my hand.”
You drop it immediately.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop him from leading you on to the dance floor. His hand slides around your waist, pulling you gently to the center of the ballroom; you’re struggling to ignore the far too many pairs of eyes on you two as he rearranges your arms around his neck.
And—oh, hell.
You forgot how solid he is.
His grip is firm but steady, his palm warm where it rests against your back. He moves easily, like this isn’t completely ridiculous, like your brain isn’t currently melting out of your ears.
“Relax,” Hajime murmurs.
You scowl. “I am relaxed.”
His lips twitch. “Yeah, totally.”
You hate him. You hate the way he’s looking at you—amused, interested, entirely too smug for someone who has already ruined your life once.
He leads you into a slow, easy step, and goddamn it, of course he’s good at this, too. His movements are effortless, confident. He keeps the rhythm perfectly, and you hate that you match him so well.
He tilts his head, watching you. “You’re thinking really hard about something.”
“No, I’m not.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Right. So you’re definitely not thinking about how good I am at this.”
You promptly step on his foot. He laughs, and it ignites your hatefire even more.
“Asshole,” you mutter.
“I was going to say you look good tonight,” he muses, unfazed. “But now I don’t know if you deserve the compliment.”
You glare at him. “Shut up.”
Hajime smirks. “Touchy.”
He spins you as the music hits a crescendo, dropping you abruptly into a dip that catches you heavily off-guard. It makes you lock your fingers tighter around his neck, and when he lifts you back up, you nearly slam right into his very, very firm chest (what the hell, is this man made entirely of protein?), face first.
“What the fuck?” you huff, a little winded. “You are actually a horrible human being.”
Hajime hums, tilting his head slightly, his eyes flickering with something too smug, too entertained. “You keep saying that,” he muses, voice low enough that it barely carries past the space between you, “but I think you just like having someone to complain about.”
Before you can deliver a scathing reply, he tugs you a fraction closer. It’s subtle, barely noticeable to anyone watching, but you feel it—the shift of his fingers pressing against the small of your back, the way your body slots against his just enough for warmth to pass between you.
Your breath catches, and it’s infuriating how he notices. How his hold tightens, like he can read every single thought running through your head and is thrilled by it.
“You’re such a dick,” you frown, shifting slightly, trying to put some space between you.
Hajime chuckles, and the sound is entirely too satisfied. His mouth is right by your ear, so you practically feel it more than you really hear it, when he murmurs, “And what are you gonna do about it?”
Your brain short-circuits.
Because that—that—is not fair.
That is the kind of thing a man should not be allowed to say in that voice, in that low, teasing rumble, into your ear, while holding you against him like this.
It happens before you can even think about it.
Before you can register that you are, in fact, in the middle of a ballroom at your company’s annual gala. Before you can process the reality that Emi is somewhere in this crowd, and she has already been insufferable about this whole ordeal.
Before any of that can hit you, you grab the lapels of his stupidly well-fitted suit, tilt your chin up, and kiss him.
It’s instant, sharp, devastating. Your hands tighten against his chest as you crash into him, and Hajime—because he is the worst person alive—immediately reacts.
One hand presses firm into your back, the other finding its way to your jaw, fingers curling just slightly as he deepens the kiss without hesitation. His lips are warm, just the right mix of soft and steady, and when he angles his head just so—his nose brushing against yours, his thumb skimming your cheek—you feel yourself sink, like he’s pulling you under and you don’t even mind drowning.
It should not be this good.
It should not set your pulse racing like this, make you forget for a single, damning second that this is the worst possible thing you could be doing right now.
But it does. And for just a moment, nothing else exists. Not the party. Not the music. Not the fact that literally everyone is watching you right now. Just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his fingers at your back, the way he exhales sharply like he wasn’t expecting this either, but he’s not about to stop it, not for anything in the world.
And then you remember where you are.
You rip yourself away, blinking rapidly, your brain racing to catch up with what you just did.
And that is the moment you hear it: the loudest, most delighted squeal of your entire existence.
Your stomach plummets.
Because standing at the edge of the ballroom, her hands clasped together in sheer glee, is none other than Emi Iwaizumi herself. And she is positively vibrating with joy.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she gushes, and the way she looks at you is the exact way someone would look at their child who just announced they were getting married. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect together!”
Your soul leaves your body. You stare at her, horrified. You slowly turn back to Hajime—who, because he is an absolute menace, is still standing entirely too close, still holding you just slightly like he isn’t ready to let go.
And he is smiling.
The kind of smile that says I win. The kind of smile that says he is absolutely going to remind you of this for the rest of your natural life.
You physically have to stop yourself from shoving him away.
Instead, you inhale, sharp and deep, and will yourself to stay calm. Emi is still talking. She is still gushing. And you cannot deal with whatever she’s about to say next, so before she can so much as breathe, you turn back to Hajime, seize his wrist, and drag him off the dance floor, because if you don’t get away from this immediately, you are actually going to die of secondhand embarrassment and shame.
five.
This is because of your dry spell.
Your dry spell is the reason why your entire sense of self-control and awareness have gone out the window, and the reason why, now that you and Hajime have successfully escaped the ballroom onto the balcony, he is doubled over laughing and you are actually freaking out.
“Jesus fuck,” you groan, pressing your hands to your face. The cool night air does nothing to soothe the absolute catastrophe unfolding inside your brain. “I kissed you. I kissed you in front of everyone.”
Hajime straightens, still grinning like an asshole. “Yeah,” he says, entirely too pleased. “You did.”
You drop your hands, glaring. “Fuck you, dude. You’re not helping.”
He shrugs. “Wasn’t aware I needed to.”
You let out an incoherent noise of distress.
Hajime, because he is insufferable, just leans against the balcony railing, watching you unravel like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all night. His tie is slightly loosened now, his jacket unbuttoned, and somehow, he looks even better like this—a little rumpled, a little amused, looking at you like he already knows how this is going to end.
That is actually unacceptable.
“This is your fault,” you snap, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You goaded me into it.”
Hajime raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so I made you kiss me?”
“Yes,” you declare, with full conviction, even though you definitely grabbed him first. “You set me up.”
He snorts, shaking his head. “You really can’t handle taking the L, huh?”
“I can handle it,” you insist. “I just don’t want to.”
His lips twitch like he’s trying very hard not to laugh again. “So you kissed me against your will?”
“Yes.”
Hajime tilts his head, amused. “Interesting. Because you seemed pretty into it.”
Your jaw drops. “I—you—shut up.”
He chuckles, and God, his voice is all warm and low and pleased with himself, and you really need to get it together before you do something stupid again.
You exhale sharply, crossing your arms and shifting your focus to the city skyline instead. Sendai stretches out before you in a sea of golden lights, a stark contrast to the absolute nightmare happening in your head.
This is fine. You can recover from this. You just have to never, ever acknowledge it again.
You square your shoulders, turning back to him. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to go back inside, pretend this never happened, and move on with our lives.”
Hajime hums, considering. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”
You squint. “What do you mean that’s not gonna work?”
He pushes off the railing, taking a step closer—too close, enough that you feel it again, that ridiculous, stupid warmth that shouldn’t still be there after all this time. “I mean,” he says, slow, deliberate, “you’re acting like that kiss was a mistake.”
You blink. “Because it was.”
He lifts a single eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“Yes,” you say immediately, but it comes out way too defensive, and Hajime knows it.
He grins. You decide that you hate him.
“I’m sure,” you insist, crossing your arms tighter, like that will somehow make this whole situation less insufferable. “It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. A lapse in judgment. That’s it.”
Hajime tilts his head, thoughtful. “Okay. So if I kissed you again right now, you wouldn’t like it.”
Your entire brain short-circuits. The audacity. The unbelievable nerve.
You gape at him. “You wouldn’t.”
His grin widens. “Wouldn’t I?”
You hate how smug he looks. You hate that your stomach flips at the idea of it. You hate that you don’t immediately shut it down.
He watches your expression carefully, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, like he won’t actually do it unless you give him some kind of sign. Which is so much worse, because it means he’s giving you the chance to say no, to walk away, to end this before it can spiral any further.
But you don’t.
And that—more than the kiss itself, more than Emi’s squealing, more than the public spectacle you just made—is what finally sends you into full-blown panic mode.
You do want him to kiss you again.
You stare at him, pulse thrumming, brain caught in a violent tug-of-war between denial and desire. And Hajime? Hajime is watching you with the patience of someone who knows he’s already won.
“Say it,” he murmurs, voice low, steady.
You scowl. “Say what?”
“That you want me to kiss you again.”
Your jaw clenches. He’s baiting you, letting you choose, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You exhale sharply, tilting your chin up. “You’re so full of yourself.”
His mouth twitches. “Not an answer.”
“Fine,” you snap. “I want you to kiss me again.”
Hajime grins. “That’s all I needed.”
And then, he does.
This time, it’s slower, deeper, not rushed by the heat of the moment. He takes his time, like he’s savoring it, like he’s memorizing the way you melt into him. And you? You let him. Because, goddamn it, you were never winning this battle.
When you finally pull away, breathless, he smirks down at you. “See? Not a mistake.”
You groan. “I hate you.”
He laughs, pressing another quick kiss to your forehead that feels far more intimate than a casual pair of friends-with-benefits should. You, scandalized, shove him away, but Hajime just grins, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“You’re impossible,” you mutter, pressing your fingers to your forehead, like that will somehow stop the ridiculous heat crawling up your neck.
Hajime hums, smug. “And yet, you’re still standing here.”
You are still standing here. You could have left, could have walked back into that ballroom and pretended this entire thing never happened. But instead, you’re here. On this balcony. With him.
You shift, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “So… what now?”
Hajime leans back against the railing. “Dunno. Guess that depends on you.”
You narrow your eyes. “Why do I feel like you already have an answer?”
“Because I do,” he says plainly, in a way so nonchalant and effortless it could only be said like that by him.
You exhale sharply, tilting your head up to the sky, like the stars might have some kind of solution for this. “You know this is gonna be a thing now, right?”
Hajime raises an eyebrow. “A thing?”
“Yeah,” you say, making a vague gesture between the two of you. “A thing. Emi’s gonna lose her mind. She’s probably already telling the senior partners that her matchmaking career is a success.”
Hajime laughs, the sound easy, effortless. “Yeah. She probably is.”
You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “I am never going to live this down.”
“Probably not.”
You squint at him. “You could at least pretend to be sympathetic.”
Hajime shrugs, then reaches for your hand, tugging you forward so suddenly that you nearly stumble into him. His hands slide down to your waist, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress. “I could,” he murmurs, close, too close, “but we both know I wouldn’t mean it.”
You scowl. “You’re the worst.”
“And yet,” he says, smug, “you still kissed me. Twice, actually.”
You glare. “Stop counting.”
“No promises.”
You groan, pressing your forehead to his chest in sheer exasperation. “This is my villain origin story.”
Hajime just laughs, wrapping his arms fully around you, and you hate—hate—that it feels nice, that it feels right.
“Hajime,” you say, voice muffled against his suit jacket.
“Yeah?”
You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze. “If we’re doing this, you are legally required to make it up to me with at least two fancy dates. Minimum.”
Hajime smirks, like he was already planning on it. “Deal.”
“And no getting too smug about this, either,” you squint.
He tilts his head. “Define ‘too smug.’”
You groan, shoving at his chest. “God, I hate you.”
Hajime just catches your wrist and grins, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your knuckles. “Sure you do.”
You really don’t. And both of you know that very well, because he has his mother’s spell-blinding smile and you have always been a sucker for them both.
⨭ closing; churned this out over one 3 hour writing sesh bc i got this idea in my head and had to see it through. not proofread and very very hastily written, but i like her anyway. #comment #reblog #lemme know ur thoughts mwah xoxo
#haikyuu x reader#⨭ navigation#anime#writing#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi x reader#⨭ haikyuu#haikyuu#⨭ haikyuu fics#haikyuu time skip#iwaizumi x you#haikyuu iwaizumi#hq iwaizumi#iwaizumi x y/n#iwaizumi fluff#iwaizumi fic#⨭ fics#⨭ foreveia#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you
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Farmer Sukuna and YN interacting with the other town folk?
(Which lead into my other question; is there any villager Sukuna actually enjoys talking with or is he a complete loner? I would think he would at least hang out with the adventure guild.)
farmer!sukuna and you visiting the old ladies in town
Farmer!Sukuna’s masterlist
Reader and Sukuna have many connections to the town folks. Yes, they’re self-sufficient, but they still have to make a living. Sukuna sells whatever his fields produce, and you’re a really great baker, so you end up selling some muffins/pies/sweets from time to time :)
You try to keep your lives as peaceful as they can get, so you keep to yourselves the majority of the time, but for the sake of your business you still have to meet up with people. Sukuna isn’t really happy about this because he is pretty much a loner lol, he isn’t an easy person to deal with 🧍🏻♂️ but he tries, mainly because he knows you care. You, on the contrary, are really good with words and gestures, and the old ladies really appreciate your company for tea time on Fridays. Sukuna, obviously, comes with you every time, too. And they absolutely love him.
“Oh sweetheart, you’re so thin these days! Is that brute not treating you well? Come, come, eat this biscuit,” a lady ushers you into her home, glaring at Sukuna who is behind you. You softly laugh while Sukuna grumbles “I ain't even do nothin'”.
“He’s treating me very well, ma’am. And I got you a blueberry pie, he made sure to pick all the ingredients for me,” you say sweetly, sitting down on the chair your husband got out from under the table for you. The old lady beams at your pie before shaking her white curls, pointing an accusatory finger toward Sukuna’s chest.
“You’ll have to fight me if you make her cry, do you understand, mister?”
“I would never, ma’am,” he says somberly, laying his hands on your shoulders. The other ladies at the table are hurrying to bring a chair from somewhere for him too, but he raises a hand to stop them. He doesn’t mind standing if you’re comfortable.
“One free pepper for every tear!” The same old lady exclaims, still furrowing her eyebrows.
“Let’s make ‘em two,” he smirks, bowing slightly. The old lady’s expression softens, and she coos at him. She pats him on the cheek affectionately, and you see his jaw ticking. He hates it. You snort, and he sends you a mean glance.
“You found yourself a gem, honey,” another kind lady sighs your way. You get up to point your chair at Sukuna, and he rolls his eyes, already knowing what you want him to do. You’re trying to include him in the circle around the table, just like every Friday. He sits down and you plop right on his left leg. His arms circle your waist, and you lean your back on his chest, content. "Strong, put a ring on your finger fast, makes sure you're fed healthy ingredients..."
"Oh, that I do, ma'am," he barks out laughing, making all the ladies follow. He has that young man charm that makes the group of ladies swoon.
"Let's drink some tea, shall we?"
#farmer au#sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk fics#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic
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Absolutely loving killer Harry! I love how protective of us he is and how just caring and in love he is with us. Though has there ever been a time where he was the one where he desperately needed someone or us for comfort? Has he ever been that vulnerable with us?
Hiii lovey!! So I think 100000% Harry has had moments of insecurity and thinks he’s not enough for you and that’s sort of why he needs you to comfort him a bit! So I hope you enjoy this!!💖
Find all things Loving a Killer here✨
CW: Harry is a killer in this series but it’s only mentioned briefly and no details are given in this update about what he’s done.
Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia
Summary: Harry has a bad day and just needs you to comfort him a bit✨
It’s rare that Harry lets anyone see him at his lowest when the weight of all the horrible things he’s done rests on his shoulders and he feels as if he doesn’t deserve the happiness he’s found in life, the happiness he has all because of you. You’re the one person who has seen Harry in this state, he doesn’t bother putting up a wall with you because you know him too well and while he does keep things from you, such as what he really does for a living, he is actually very forthcoming with his feelings with you because most of the time it’s just him telling you how much he loves you and how you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. But something he’s learned in his years of being with you and especially in the years he’s been married to you is that it’s just as important for him to share how he’s feeling in the not so great moments as well as the happy ones, it’s what helps you understand him a bit more and get to see his more vulnerable side that he doesn’t share with anyone else.
That’s why having Harry’s head resting in your lap while you’re sat at the edge of the bed with him on his knees between your legs isn’t that shocking, you could tell he was feeling a little down the moment he got home from work a few hours earlier. You run a hand through his hair as he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp making him relax the tiniest bit. He hasn’t said anything to you minus that he loves you but that was as he was getting ready for bed, he’s been silence since then even when he dropped to his knees in front of you while you were putting your lotion on and rested his head in your lap and securely wrapped himself around you and you don’t mind because you know he will talk when he’s ready.
“Can I ask you something?” You look down at him as he mumbles his question into the fabric of your pajama pants.
“You can ask me anything you want.” You tell him as your free hand rests on the top of his shoulder so you can give it a small squeeze.
“Do you think you’ll always love me?” He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this while you have no clue about the horrible things he does and has done in the time you’ve known him but he just needs some reassurance in this very moment so he doesn’t really care how unfair he’s being.
“I know I’ll always love you.” You answer with a smile as you continue running your fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing you could do that would ever make me stop loving you.” Your soft and gentle tone lets him know you mean every word and Harry wants to smile but he can’t because of the guilt he feels knowing that he’s already done plenty of things that would make all the love you have for him fade away and turn into disgust and anger.
“I don’t deserve you.” He says with a sigh as his arms around your middle tighten almost as if he’s afraid that if his hold on you loosens even just the tiniest bit you’ll slip away from him. You feel the corners of your mouth drop at his words, hating that whatever thoughts he’s got swirling around in his mind are making him feel like he’s not good enough. You bring your hand up and place it on his cheek that’s not pressed against your thighs, you softly run your thumb over his cheekbone as your other hand plays with the hair at the back of his neck.
“Well I know you don’t hear this a lot but you’re wrong.” You watch as your words make Harry’s mouth twitch like he’s fighting off a smile. “You deserve me because I deserve you.” You swallow the small lump that’s forming in your throat as you look over at your nightstand that has a photo of you and Harry from your wedding day sitting in a pretty frame next to your lamp.
“No one can love me the way you do. No one can make me feel like I’m the most important person in the whole world the way you do. No one can protect me the way you do. So you saying you don’t deserve me is like you’re trying to tell me I don’t deserve the kind of happiness that I only get when I’m with you.” Harry’s eyes open as soon as he hears you sniffle and you don’t even have time to wipe away the few tears that have escaped before he’s sitting up making your hands fall into your lap while his come up to gently cup the sides of your face, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears for you.
“You deserve all the happiness in the world.” He tells you with as much softness he can muster as he feels his heart begin to crack at the sight of you getting upset because you just want him to know how loved he makes you feel. While he’s glad he makes you feel this way he also hates that a part of him knows the reason he goes so overboard with his love and affection for you is because he thinks maybe if he treats you the best he possibly can you won’t want to leave the moment you find out the monster he really is.
“And I get that when I’m with you.” Harry hates knowing your happiness is tied up in being with him because he knows there’s a small possibility that somewhere down the line he won’t be able to be around anymore, either because a job goes wrong or someone stumbles upon his preferred burial site that holds more than a few skeletons of his. “Is there something wrong that we need to work on? Are you not-”
“No baby there’s nothing wrong.” He says quickly stopping you from asking any other questions because he can’t stand the thought of you thinking you have anything to do with his mood this evening. “I just sometimes think this-this life we’ve made with each other is almost too good to be true and-and I get in my head about how one day you’re going to realize how fucked up I am and you’ll run for the hills.” His thumbs are still softly rubbing over your cheeks as he finally lets you in on the types of things that have been rolling around in his mind lately.
“I already know how fucked up you are Harry.” His eyes stare into yours as you bring your hands up and rest them on top of his. “You wake up before the sun rises to work out. You also prefer cold showers unless I’m joining you and force you to take a hot one. You are so organized I don’t even know where half our stuff even is. And you eat beans on toast. You’re an actual freak.” You explain with a small sniffle while you wrap your hands around his wrists, Harry appreciates your attempt at trying to change the mood of the conversation because he doesn’t know how much longer he can watch tears slip down your face.
“But you love me right?” He asks as he leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.
“I’ll never love anyone the way I love you so don’t think even for a minute that I’ll ever leave you okay?” Harry just nods as you give his wrists a squeeze and that’s when you notice his eyes have gotten a little misty. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure him as you move your hands from his wrist and up to his face while his hands drop to your shoulders.
“Good.” You smile as you feel him lean into your touch. “You mean everything to me you know that right?” You give him a small nod as you hear the emotion in his voice. “I love you.” He says softly as you lean in and rest your forehead against his as a few stray tears roll down his face. “I’m sor-” Harry’s apology is cut off by the feeling of your lips on his in a sweet kiss.
“I love you too.” You mumble against his lips as his hands slip into your hair keeping your face close to his. “You don’t have to apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Harry closes his eyes for a moment as you take your thumbs and wipe away the last of his tears while he take a few seconds to let your words sink in, ignoring the ever present guilt that wants to work its way up his chest and into his throat so he can come clean and just tell you everything he’s done wrong that would make you change your mind and demand an apology and probably a divorce from him.
But Harry decides that while yes he does unspeakable things and hurts people for a living, there’s a reason he walked into the cafe you worked at all those years ago and maybe it was because the universe or whatever it may be knew you were exactly what he needed in his life. He felt lost before he met you, just going through the motions of life with no real purpose until you came along and gave him one. That’s why he will always drop whatever he’s doing if you need him because your happiness is his main priority and it’s the same reason he’d leave and make sure you never saw him again if you ever do decide to be done with him.
He hasn’t ever loved anyone as much as he loves you and as he leans in and places a kiss to your lips he knows you love him just as much when he feels you pull him closer when you think he’s about to pull away, not wanting him to get too far but you have nothing to worry about because Harry isn’t going anywhere. The two of you are it for each other and he feels a sense of relief wash over him as that realization hits him, momentarily putting him at ease.
“You really think I’m a freak because of the beans on toast thing?” He teases once you actually allow him to pull away and you roll your eyes as he places little kisses to the tip of your nose and then both cheeks.
“Yes.” He smiles as you run a hand through his hair. “But you’re my freak.”
“Oh really? And here I was thinking you were my little freak.” He chuckles at the way your cheeks get pink as he leans down and gives you a quick peck making you smile when he pulls away. It’s a smile that makes Harry’s heart want to burst because it’s the smile you give him when he can tell you’re truly happy and that’s all Harry wants, he just wants to be able to make you smile like that for as long as he can.
#loving a killer series#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#killer!harry#harry styles dark#dark!harry#Harry styles x wife!reader#husband!harry#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles imagine#my little lanky baby#harry styles#one direction fanfiction#husbandrry
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Actually, criticizing you for needing things spelled out is the opposite of saying you need a high IQ to enjoy the show. What I’m saying is this show is very easy to understand; uses very basic storytelling techniques, tropes, and visual cues; and shouldn’t require the characters to engage in lengthy dialogue about every theme and message for you to be able to get it. I don’t think I’m particularly clever for understanding these things; I just think arguments like yours are particularly obtuse.
Your current point about Cait and Vi has nothing to do with your original erroneous claim that “oil and water” was just about them and not the greater conflict—something that you should have understood given it was the literal dialogue of the scene. Even when it was spelled out as clearly as it possibly could be, you seem to have missed the greater point.
You are similarly stubborn in your decision that Heinerdinger’s warnings about magic and hextech were only meant to be isolated to Viktor’s story and not have greater implications. You seem to want to have it both ways where the story is primarily about the class conflict seen through these characters, while simultaneously denying that their conflicts foreshadow or otherwise symbolize the the parts of the story you don’t like. The difference seems to be that you like the class conflict idea but you don’t like the arcane apocalypse or the fighting a common enemy, so you deny that the latter two were set up, even if the show was doing everything but having a flashing sign in the corner.
Yes, obviously Vi and Cait clash. Nowhere did I say they didn’t. That would be the conflict they continue to have to overcome as characters. In that scene, however, they are on the same page. They are as on the same page as they are at about any other time in the show. So, what Vi is saying, in very plain text that requires no understanding of literary devices or ability to understand visual language, is that the problem is topside and bottom not being able to mix and she very clearly sets herself and Caitlyn up as proxies for the two cities. Again, a very common literary device.
Again, you really seem to not understand foreshadowing. Foreshadowing is supposed to be a passing seed of an idea that doesn’t call overt attention to itself, and, while some can spot it in the moment, it is most often something you catch when you rewatch/read the material. Something doesn’t have to repeatedly beat you over the head to be foreshadowing.
That said, the mention of the two cities coming together to fight a common foe was not exactly subtle and certainly screams like it had a bullhorn on a rewatch. Yes, the actual scene wasn’t about coming together against a common enemy. That doesn’t mean that line wasn’t deliberately planting the seed of future events.
The line serves to let the viewer know, “hey, these were the circumstances where these two cities came together before,” the unspoken part being “and that might be how they are able to come together again.” Again, I cannot express enough how basic this is as a storytelling device. It’s practically Chekov’s gun. There is nothing high IQ (also, IQ is a made-up racist concept, so bragging about it would be pointless anyway) about it.
Arcane is brilliant, but it’s not doing anything particularly groundbreaking when it comes to its use of literary devices and tropes. What seems to be tripping you up is the use of them at all. If something isn’t said as explicitly as possible, you deny it. Then again, as with VI’s oil and water speech, you seem to deny things even when they are explicitly stated.
I’m not going to call you a patronizing pet name here. If I did in a previous post I apologize, but I, personally don’t want to do that here. What I will say is that I’m challenging your poor reading of the text, and thus your skills at analysis, not attacking you as a person. I say you don’t seem to understand storytelling conventions because you seem to have trouble with basic ideas like foreshadowing, planting and payoff, and metaphor. It’s either that, or you’re being deliberately obtuse because it doesn’t suit your argument. There are plenty of people on this site who would be more than happy to just call you an idiot. I don’t think you are. I just think you are one of many people who fall into a very common issue with media criticism today where you mistake what you would have liked to happen with what objectively was going to happen or with what can be considered good writing.
My point about Ambessa is that she wasn’t a mustache-twirling villain. What I was saying was you seem to have needed her to be that to understand she was going to be one of the major threats of the second season. The only way you seem like you would be able to accept that is if she showed up with a T-shirt that said “I’m the threat.”
Again, shows that are planning ahead usually plant the next season’s threat in the previous season. Sometimes it’s a passing reference; sometimes it’s a dramatic stinger; and sometimes it’s actually “one of the good guys.” With the exception of the dramatic stinger or a character being the shadowy mastermind that has to come forward and do it themselves Thanos style, most of these future antagonists don’t come into the story with a town crier announcing their future intent.
However, those familiar with common television storytelling are not going to be surprised that the powerful warmongering imperialist that comes in in the third act to start meddling with things ends up being the major threat in the next season. You also see this in book series. Characters who start off as more peripheral when introduced become more relevant and dangerous as the story progresses. Sometimes it’s because events in the story push them that direction. Sometimes it’s was always their plan. Sometimes, as I would argue with Ambessa, it’s a little of both. Our heroes are so caught up in dealing with their current problems that they often don’t realize this is happening until it’s too late.
The place where I think you are somewhat correct is that I don’t think Ambessa planned to be as direct in her actions when she first showed up. I think her plan was to do what she initially did, which is manipulate the conflict so she could get hextech. When Jinx attacked the council, she seized an opportunity. Again, this is how many imperial powers operate. They meddle in the background until an opportunity presents itself to take a much more active hand.
Now, notice I said “Ambessa didn’t plan”—Ambessa is not the semi-omniscient viewer. Ambess is not the show runner. Ambessa is not aware she’s in a fictional story with things like tropes and foreshadowing. So, just because Ambessa doesn’t go into the show thinking or knowing she’s going to take over Piltover doesn’t mean it wasn’t set up or the writers’ plan.
I also hate to break it to you, but Silco was the main antagonist in the first season. Was he well written and nuanced? Absolutely. Most good antagonists are. While there can be fun, interesting antagonists that are just plain evil, many of the best are ones that have a point but their methods, disregard for those caught in their crossfire, and personal entanglements are their downfall.
Good storytellers are very aware of the concept that “every villain is the hero of his own story.”Silco is not absolved because he claims to want independence for Zaun (something he didn’t lift a finger to do after the first act until Jinx forced his hand.) In fact, he was the person causing the most suffering in Zaun in acts two and three, including the actions of the enforcers whom he paid and controlled through Marcus.
Jayce trying to make a deal with him doesn’t make him not the antagonist. That was just the best way Jayce could see to end the conflict. This point doesn’t at all argue against Ambessa becoming the antagonist in season two nor the idea that the two sides would team up to fight her. Shows are allowed to approach treating their different antagonists in different ways. Usually, the early season’s villain is a more localized threat, and they can often be sympathetic, which is why it’s not uncommon for an early villain to become a friend or ally. Also, two sides that were previously at odds joining forces to fight a greater threat to them all is, again, a very classic trope. You may find it cheap, but that doesn’t make it something that came out of nowhere. If anything, it makes it more predictable.
Regarding hextech, you can’t call it contrived when the characters in the show with the most understanding of magic immediately said, “hey, this stuff is dangerous,” and it turns out they were right. Like, there cannot be more straightforward unambiguous storytelling than that.
Now, I’m not going to pretend I was able to predict the end form it would take, but the threat posed by rushing through and overusing hextech was established from the moment it was introduced and reinforced by Heimerdinger’s horror at the hex core—which was about much more than just Viktor’s story. Jayce also understood this initially in act two, but his desires to save Viktor and protect Piltover won out over his initial instinct to listen to Heimerdinger.
No, the anomaly and the hex core aren’t the same thing, but there are two things to keep in mind about the hex core: 1) Even if Jayce hadn’t shot Viktor, there was something deliberately unsettling about the cult. Yes, it seemed nice, but the overexposed, unsettling lighting, personality changes, and Viktor’s ability to take over his followers’ bodies were pretty bright red flags that something wasn’t quite right. We don’t know how each time loop played out. We don’t know if, in an earlier version, Jayce hadn’t shot Viktor, and the commune still went terribly wrong. Even in its most utopian state, the question of how much free will these people have was tingling in the background. 2) Arguably, the hex core showing how the arcane can adapt and become alive was yet more set up that this could happen on a greater scale—again setting up the potential for something like the anomaly.
(A side note: something I did wonder was whether Viktor’s blood dropping into the shaft at the Hex Gates had something to do with it. That’s what I thought when I first saw that oddly colored blob before the anomaly was revealed. It was never established in the text to my satisfaction, though, so it’s just a headcanon. If that was the intent, I will say that was a case where it wasn’t well executed. Even if someone like Amanda decided to use “word of god” to say so, it doesn’t really count, though that certainly would answer your question “why now?” question. Another answer could be the fact that the experiments with the hex core are what woke it up. Given the arcane is shown to be somewhat sentient, maybe it sensed the growing conflict, but I digress.
I think the blood being the catalyst would have pros or cons. Pros being a really nice case of planting and payoff; cons being that it sort of makes it seem like a freak accident—which still could go to the point. Many technological advancements have been prone to terrible accidents before we properly understood their risks and put in safe guards. It also would have been a bit of nice consequences in action that the illness Piltover inflicted on Zaun is what brought their hextech empire down. See? it’s not like I don’t have a version of the story that I would prefer in some ways. I’m just not going to act like the version we got wasn’t set up.)
On the civil war idea, I was responding to the ending you said you wanted, and I phrased my response as such, so please don’t act like I was putting words in your mouth. Also, based on what we know of the Black Rose in the show, while that’s an interesting idea, it’s seems unlikely they would openly or even covertly support Zaun. There was nothing stopping them from doing that in the story we got. I think they preferred to keep their exposure as limited as possible, and it made sense to focus their efforts on Mel who had a much more direct line to Ambessa.
Also, I will admit that plot line seemed much more about setting up the next LoL season/next show than this one. I will give you that. There was the little bit of set up with Mel’s magic shining when the bomb hit, and Ambessa’s vague references to her problems at home, but I won’t deny that story had the least relevance to the first season.
Didn’t make me enjoy Mel taking out Maddie any less, (doesn’t make me look forward to whatever future appearances we get of Mel the Mage any less), but it did give off some weird “natural abilities are better than using technology” vibes reminiscent of the somewhat problematic theme of The Incredibles. I don’t necessarily think they meant to do that, but it certainly can be read into the text. I never said Arcane is above criticism, just pointing out the common flaws I see in the criticism.
I think, in a civil war, with all bets off and hextech at their disposal, Piltover would win. Yes, the chem tanks were a threat, but the Noxians took them out with spears. Spears. Vi plowed through several of them with just the gauntlets and took one out with her bare hands with a little help from Cait and a normal rifle. Also, Piltover literally has the high ground. The reason they wanted to invade was to get Jinx. If the mission is changed to war, there’s no need to send people down there. They could just drop bombs, flood the streets, and cut off supply lines. Potentially, the tide could be turned with some of the Piltover folks we love supporting Zaun, but now we’ve lost track of the arcane threat that they would not shut up about in the first season.
You know you admitted that the problem is you didn’t like the ending, right? You not liking it doesn’t mean it wasn’t set up. I have outlined again and again that it was set up. Does that mean the ending exactly beat for beat was explicitly laid out? No.
When I say the ending was set up, that doesn’t mean every single interaction or moment could have been predicted. What could be predicted is that hextech would end up becoming a major problem—something we were explicitly warned about multiple times—Ambessa would become a major problem—something we should have picked up on given her meddling and Mel’s backstory and interactions with her—and that there would be either a détente or form of reconciliation between the two cities—because, that’s how stories about groups in conflict with each other in shows that go out of their way to show the humanity and good and bad on both sides usually end unless they want to be a complete downer, which, given Arcane pulled that move in the first season, was unlikely to happen in the second.
None of your points about the dark future invalidate anything I said. First, we don’t know what Viktor would be capable of if Jayce hadn’t shot him. Maybe Singed would have succeeded with his plan—they did have a whole army. As I said earlier, we also don’t know what happened in every loop. Yes, the one Jayce saw was almost exactly like the one he returns to, but maybe that one was actually closer to success than any of the others. We don’t know, and I’m fine with that.
That said, none of your ramblings here have anything to do with whether or not the plan was to have the cities team up against a common enemy. You can argue the plan wasn’t executed well, and that’s your choice. You can argue you didn’t like that this was the plan. That is also your choice. But not executing a plan well or having a plan you don’t like and not having a plan are different things.
Honestly, sometimes sticking to the plan is a bad idea for storytelling—that’s what really leads to contrived writing. So, arguably, your problem is much less that they betrayed their plan, but rather that you felt they had to contort the narrative to fit their original plan and goals because they wanted a certain ending. That’s definitely something that happens a lot in narratives. The author goes in having an ending in mind, and they rigidly stick to it, even if the way they develop the story might mean there are better possible endings. I honestly think your arguments much better support that idea than the idea that there was no set up. i wouldn’t necessarily agree with you on all points, but it would be a much stronger case.
You should not need a scene of exposition explaining Sevika’s council seat. I refuse to believe any intellectually honest person would be confused by what was going on. When people get annoyed that some viewers seem to not get “show don’t tell.”
And look, I get wanting certain scenes. I will always argue I wish Ekko or Jinx had really put into words why VI’s their hero at some point, because, even though the show arguably showed that, I think that would have really helped solidly her arc. But I think you still get the gist of that from context.
That said, we do get Caitlyn’s whole monologue about suffering the consequences of their actions but there still being hope and light worth fighting for in the epilogue that should help with interpretation that things are bad but they can get better and here are the first tentative steps in that direction. She literally says the story isn’t over.
Arcane is not a political drama. Not sure why I need to say that about the League of Legends cartoon, but it’s not. Class and politics inform the story. They are not what the story is about. The writers didn’t go in with the intention of writing about class warfare and then develop the characters to match like a movie like Crash did. They went in wanting to tell the stories of these characters and further developed the existing background themes to help create conflict and character arcs.
“A lot of people joined the fight” is an interesting way to interpret a handful before Jinx came in to save the day—you know in that dramatic scene that drastically turned the tide of the fight because, while we as the audience knew it was going to happen, the characters didn’t? Again, we have the benefit of knowing this is a fictional story with a plot. They don’t. There have been plenty of people who refuse to fight with an enemy, even if it’s in their own self interest.
And, yes, season two is the find out to season one’s fuck around. Viktor and Jayce chose to ignore the warnings about Hextech. They then proceeded to overuse it, weaponize it, and do dangerous experiments with it, partially at the behest of unrepentant capitalism—there’s some class and politics for you. As stated earlier, the anomaly can very much be a stand in for the unforeseen consequences of certain technologies. How often do we find out years later what harm we’ve caused? Given that the first obvious victim is a tree, one could make an easy connection to global warming. Jayce would never be able to give Viktor’s the hex core if Viktor hadn’t made it in the first place. So yes, what happened with the arcane was indeed, their chickens coming home to roost and, no, you don’t need it explicitly stated what form the consequences are going to take—just that there will be consequences.
Likewise, as I alluded to earlier, Ambessa was most likely not planning to take over Piltover from the start. Jinx blowing up the council gave her the in to essentially have a bloodless coup. (Bloodless meaning she didn’t have to kill the leaders herself). Even prior to that, though, the reason she was able to meddle at all were the tensions between topside and bottom. If those hadn’t been ramping up, thanks mostly to the actions of our characters, she wouldn’t have been able to push for the creation of weapons. Internal conflict is a breeding ground for outside bad actors.
As for a common enemy making the story no longer nuanced, (which, again, has nothing to do with whether it was planned or not) in life there always comes a time when there is no room for moral ambiguity. Some things are a matter of survival. There are times where people do, in fact, have to set aside their differences or everyone will suffer. And in a show that is going out of its way to show the humanity of both sides in a conflict, this is where the story goes more often than not. Because, in a moment of true crisis, there is can be more that unites us than not (though, even in the moment, decision can still tear its head).
The tragedy, of course, is that it doesn’t last. I can say that as someone who remembers 9/11 (yes, I’m old). That’s why we had Cait’s ending monologue and the “dirt under your nails” discussion. Because they have to keep fighting.
I’m not going to go through every point because this has taken me hours and I’m going to just broadly say most of your issues have nothing to do with whether or not this was the plan for the sorry and your personal qualms about execution, and I really have no desire to go through any more of that right now as I have both a job and a life.
What I will address is your inability to understand the point I was making in my prior post. First—many people do, indeed want the show to have been a black and white poor beats rich story. (Honestly, understandable given the current hellscape. I don’t begrudge wanting more stories where rich people get the comeuppance—this just wasn’t the one). I know because they refuse to acknowledge or accept any nuance, motive, or understanding of why Cait did what she did and frequently use her wealth as an excuse for Jinx to have been allowed to kidnap, abuse, and almost murder her and murder her mother without consequence. They further decide Silco’s actions are all justified because he’s from the oppressed side. So yes, actually, a lot of people want rich=bad, poor=good.
Further, all of those themes I mentioned in that post can certainly be tied to class. They can also be tied to race. Or sexuality. Or gender. Or disability. As an obese neurodivergent queer cis woman, I can confirm. You could have easily exchanged the class themes for any of those and not had to change much. And while class is tied up in all of those divisions, I reject the argument that it is the sole cause. Rather economic oppression and other forms of oppression feed each other. That’s why leftist groups that only want to talk about economics tend to not be great at intersectionality.
Now, I’m going to guess right now you’re saying something like “but, in Arcane those themes were related to class, not those other things, except for disability, which was also tied to class!” And you’re right! Arcane decided to explore those themes through the lens of a class conflict. That does not make it what the show is about. It makes it a major theme, of course. It makes it the lens through which we understand our characters and the events of the plot. It does not mean the show was written in service of resolving the class conflict, nor that it should take time out of the character moments to exposit about treaties, nor does it make a fantasy action show where one of the characters punches people with giant gloves and another has a giant hammer that shoots things into a political drama.
I think one question the show is trying to answer in a lot of ways (though, again, not the only one) is, if class breaks is apart , what brings us together? Why would Piltover want to give Zaun rights? Because they were forced to at the end of a gun? Because of a crisis of conscience? To avoid a bigger conflict? Because Zaun was there for them in a time of need? Because the power of 24 year-old star-crossed lovers compels them? All of the above?
As I said, this is definitely a big question, but not the only question. “What does ‘progress’ mean?” “Do people change who they are for good?” “How do you leave the cycles you were born into and raised in?” “How does one find themselves losing their ideals?” “Who decides who gets a second chance anyway?” “What happened to Heimerdinger’s dog?” “Imperialism sure sucks, doesn’t it?” “Were we too hard on Maddie?”
All questions certainly viewed through the lens of class conflict. But the lens, though necessary to see the picture, is not the subject.
“What happened to rebel Vi? Season 2 destroyed her character!”
“What happened to rebel Vi” is that Vander took her to the bridge where her parents died in his revolution and asked her what she was willing to lose. Then she meets Cait who is gentle and kind while still being tough and it makes her rethink how she sees topside. When Jinx tells her she changed too, that’s what she’s talking about.
I’m sorry if you thought Vi was going to be a topside-hating revolutionary in Season 2, but that’s clearly not where her character arc was going. Remember how she forced her way between Ekko and Cait? It seemed very straightforward that was the role her character was taking on.
I feel similar about people who act like the show was betraying its premise because it ended with reconciliation/Zaun and Piltover working together. Again, the fact that two of the most important relationships were between characters from both sides and that they made a point of talking about Zaun and Piltover first coming together against a common enemy was a pretty clear indicator that was the plan.
Now, I get being annoyed that that was what they chose to do. You don’t have to love the creative decisions of media, just like media doesn’t have to compromise its creative direction to satisfy you. But not liking that they went that direction is not the same as the show having bad writing or engaging in character assassination.
Everything Vi did in season 2 was very much in character with how she changed and who she became throughout Season 1. Hell, she used enforcers and Hextech to raid Shimmer facilities before Commander Kiramman ever threw on a beret. So, yes, actually wearing the uniform was a huge and complicated decision that she was definitely not happy about, but it also fell in line with what she had been doing.
There’s meat for another post at some point about the three different Zaun/enforcer partnerships we see in the show: Vander/Greyson, Silco/Marcus, and Cait/Vi; but I’m not going to go into that now.
TLDR: “Rebel Vi” who wants to fight all of topside hasn’t existed since the end of the second episode of the show.
Editing to add that Vi doesn’t see attacking Chem Barons as attacking Zaun; she’s taking down the people who are destroying Zaun.
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I've been seeing your post about the podcast on Octavia Butler going around and I've been wondering, why do you think people only seem to react that way too problematic relationships? I've heard an English major, book reviewer say that they should've made the girl of legal age if they wanted to write about her stepfather attempting to prey on her because it's "gross" and also acted like it was an oversight. Another one, thought a book that is famously about a predator and the author is a victim of predation and the book is marketed about predation, romanticized predation and abuse and described it as an attempt at writing romance and failing? I don't know, I've just never seen anyone get that way about murder. Anyway, hi sex witch! 🧙♀️
I think there are like. complex and innumerable reasons for this, but re: the murder comparisons I think for many people it's worryingly easy to imagine that someone might actually act on or want to act on #problematic sexual behaviors depicted in fiction. like, the amount of murder that most people are doing IRL is absolutely zero, so I think it's kind of easy for most folks to sequester that away in a little fantasy bubble where someone who enjoys reading about murder is as likely to actually be partaking in that interest as someone who enjoys reading about riding dragons or traveling through space. whereas, statistically, most people have sex at some point, or at least could be having sex, so it feels like a much more reasonable concern to assume that their fictional tastes might be directly reflected in their actual behavior.
which is tied to another huge issue here, which is that I think a lot of people just... never learn to engage in a healthy manner with things that yuck them out or make them uncomfortable? so they get in a headspace where it's impossible to imagine that anyone willingly engages with fiction that they don't personally 100% condone. which extends to critiques of authors like you're mentioning, where some readers can't seem to ken that there's an intention and artistry to showing something vile beyond that depiction either being the author's personal fetish or their attempt to be an edgelord. a booktuber who I otherwise like quite a lot once downgraded their review of Akwaeke Emezi's novel The Death of Vivek Oji because it features a queer sexual relationship between cousins and the reviewer found the inclusion of incest to be unnecessary, which seems to be rather missing the point of a novel that's entirely about a family being drowned by its own secrets.
and also idk many people, especially my fellow USAmericans who have a bad tendency of skewing very prudish whether they recognize it or not, are just very very very scared of any sex that falls outside of Gayle Rubin's charmed circle
and will kind of immediately start getting nervous when exposed to it without ever once interrogating why. I absolutely guarantee you someone is going to sent me an angry anon about at least one aspect of this circle asking why I'm trying to justify it, which is going to illustrate the point very nicely.
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Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 Update
Okay so Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 is almosttttt done! I've just about finished writing it out but it's gonna need hella edits, so expect it to drop next weekend or Valentine's day weekend? Thanks for your patience here all! It will be a 40-50 page chapter. There's a lot to cover!!!
Posting a snippet of Chapter 9 below as a holdover - the plot is ofc subject to change! But want you to enjoy a lil dramaaaa while you wait! :)
“Well…” Toru says nervously into the phone.
“What?” Hitoshi says blankly, turning to you for an explanation about your friend’s uneasiness with that piece of the plan.
“So. Um. Mineta didn’t volunteer to be our distraction out of the kindness of his heart.” You say awkwardly as Hitoshi’s tired eyes bore into your own. “We promised him that he’d get to kiss me in exchange for his services as bait for Mr. Vlad.”
“Damn. Offering sexual favors in exchange for services rendered? You guys are way more hardcore than I thought.” Hitoshi actually looks impressed. “So hopefully Mineta didn’t say anything about that fun little bargain to Mr. King after he got caught. Sexual Quid Pro Quo is definitely grounds for some kind of legal action or punishment.”
The blood in your veins goes cold. Shit.
“But it was his idea!” Mina shrieks through the phone’s tiny speakers. You wince at the sound. You feel shaky like you might start crying again.
“Yeah but you all agreed to it. And Mineta held up his end of the bargain. This could be really bad if the school found out about it.”
Neito mouths something angrily on the screen and the corner of Hitoshi’s mouth quirks upwards fondly.
“Neito…you’re on mute, babe.” He says in that gravely voice of his.
Monoma quickly unmutes himself and repeats what he was saying:
“But it’s only a kiss! It’s not like we promised Y/N would sleep with him or anything!” He says, gesturing wildly. His face is a bit pink in response to Hitoshi’s using such an unexpected term of endearment.
“It doesn’t matter…you still made a trade of a physical favor for a service. I don’t know what kind of punishment they’d slap you with, but this sort of thing would definitely rub the UA administration the wrong way if they found out about it. Let’s just hope Mineta didn’t say anything too incriminating. I can stop by his dorm and ask him before I got to bed, if you’d like.” Hitoshi smirks. “I think he’s afraid of me, so I’d probably be the best person to do it.”
“Could you, please?” You say in a strained voice. Hitoshi looks over and sees how pale you’ve gone, he awkwardly pats your shoulder in what he must think is a reassuring way.
“Yeah, for sure. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He retracts his hand from your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.
“Alright. I think we’ve mostly got our story straight. Don’t mention the alcohol. Don’t mention me needing to kiss Mineta. Don’t mention Hatsume. Don’t mention Spin The Bottle. Say we wanted to throw a game night to promote unity and bonding between Classes A and B. We good?” You quickly recap, counting off your fingers as you make each statement. “Dang, that’s a lot to keep track of.”
Everyone nods to confirm that they’re aligned (Toru doesn’t say anything to indicate that she’s not aligned, so you assume she’s invisibly nodding).
A message appears at the top of your phone screen from Shoto, a tiny preview of his text reads out in a bubble:
Shoto: You doing alright?
You quickly move to swipe the bubble away, hyperaware that Hitoshi can see any message that flashes across your screen. You quickly remind yourself that it’s not weird for your classmates to check up on you - you’re one of the party ringmasters, after all! And the message Shoto had sent was completely innocent, so…
Another message from Shoto scrolls across the screen as Toru rattles off a list of questions for Hitoshi to ask Mineta. You try to swipe the message away but you accidentally pull up the text screen over your friend’s FaceTime faces.
Shoto: This sounds awful to say, but getting to sneak away with you to the janitor’s closet almost makes getting caught worth it.
You swipe desperately to get the text screen to disappear and after a moment succeed. Toru is still speaking, saying something about Hatsume’s drones. You throw a terrified glance at Hitoshi’s direction. He’s looking at you, violet eyes wide with shock. His eyebrows are comically far up his forehead.
Oh yeah, he definitely just got a glance at Shoto’s text.
Oh God. Now he knows.
“Alright, Hagakure.” Hitoshi quickly turns back to the screen and nods in agreement at whatever your friend is saying. His facial expression instantly falls back to neutral –his eyebrows relaxing and his eyes narrowing back to their usual lazy squint. You stare straight ahead and try to keep all of your blood from rushing to your face. You feel hot all over but in a bad way. You don’t know Hitoshi super well, but you know he’s a good person. He wouldn’t spill your biggest secret to the world, right?
Hitoshi seemingly ignores you as he continues talking into the FaceTime. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Alright, I’ll ask him all of that. I think we’re all on the same page – get a good night’s sleep everyone.”
Good nights are exchanged, and one by one your friends drop off the call. Hitoshi clicks off your phone so that the screen goes back. He slowly turns to you, his expression still uncharacteristically surprised.
His voice is as even and measured as ever when he says:
“Holy shit, Y/N. How long have you been fucking Shoto Todoroki?”
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HAHAHAHAA Okay so yeah that's part of Chapter 9! I'll keep plugging away and hopefully will have it your way soon! For now, here's the rest of the series to catch up on <3
Shoto's First Kiss Series so far:
Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋
Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2
Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3
Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4
Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5
Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6
Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7
Part 8: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 8
XOXO,
Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️
P.S. Here's the link to my 🔥Master List! 🔥 I just posted a new story feat. a super hot and mushy Touya Todoroki if you're into that sort of thing: Touya Todoroki: Sexy Uber Driver!? | Touya x Reader AU Imagine 🌶 💕
#shoto fluff#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha manga#bnha#mha#boku no academia#boku no hero#shoto todoroki#shoto x reader#todoroki shoto#todoroki#shouto todoroki#todoroki lemon#BNHA lemon#todoroki x you#todoroki x y/n#todoroki x reader#shoto x you#shoto lemon#shoto x y/n#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki x you#todoroki fluff#light smut#shoto first kiss#first kiss mha#first kiss bnha#juzo honenuki#toru hagakure
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Adding onto the "stop thinking everything a man does is sexually motivated"
I'm asexual (sex neutral) and any time someone tries to claim anything is due to "sexual means" I point out I'm asexual and deadass couldn't care less for sexual things, not ideal/completely correct I know but it makes them shut up most of the time. EXCEPT FOR WHEN THEY TURN IT INTO "SO YOU THINK X IS UGLY/UNATTRACTIVE/BAD/ETC" LIKE SEXUAL ATTRACTION IS THE ONLY WAY TO ENJOY SOMETHING????????
It makes me want to commit arson on multiple degrees.
thank you for taking the time to stop by and share!
it's kind of fucking bonkers the double standard people have about men when it comes to sex and sexual attraction. people expect you to be a horndog and then when you're like hey actually i have no fucking interes, you'll get people like this who get OFFENDED because you're not attracted to something. you can't win. damned if you do, damned if you're don't. you're either a gross horny pervert or you're an asshole for not being attracted to someone because if a man isn't horny somehow that means they're saying that thing is objectively bad. like what the fuck are you even saying?
like people are offended if man is horny... and they're offended if the man isn't horny. what the actual fuck kind of double standard is that? you get mad at men when they're horny but then get mad at them because they'd DIDN'T find something attractive... why are you taking someone ELSE'S attraction personally like that?
people take men's feelings so fucking personally sometimes. no wonder it's hard for men to open up and express their fucking emotions. people freak the ever loving hell out the second that man's opinion or feelings are slightly different than what they expected. people do this weird thing where they think they can see right through men and know what they're all about just by profiling them based off of appearance and interests. we honest to god as a society treat some men like absolute fucking shit and it's time we acknowledged it.
take care of yourself, anon. you deserve better. stay safe out there
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Contraindicated
pairing: college dealer Vi x college student reader
Description: Vi knows better than to get involved with customers - especially the pretty ones who get her tongue-tied and nervous.
Warnings: 18+, drugs (weed)
The party was already in full swing by the time Vi arrived, her shoulders tense beneath her as she weaved through the crowd. Vi hated these things. She wouldn't have shown up if it weren't for Jinx and Ekko dragging her out of their apartment.
These things were too loud with too many people - but it was also good for business. Quick deals in dim hallways, maybe saying hi to familiar faces, and then she would leave.
That was the plan anyways.
You leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, enjoying the way the smoke from your blunt curled into the dark. The back door creaked open and shut. You didn't bother looking up from your spot - just another person needing a break from the party. But when the new person made herself comfortable against the railing you finally glanced over.
She was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a tight jacket that did nothing to hide her muscles underneath. She exhaled slowly and rolled her shoulders like she was trying to shake something off.
You studied her for a moment, your gaze lingering a little too long on her face. Her eyes met yours before you could look away and a blush spread across your cheeks. So embarrassing you thought to yourself. Holding out your blunt, "Want a hit?"
She snorted, shaking her head. "Nah I'm good. Appreciate it though."
You gave her a small grin, "Trying to quit or something?"
"More like I've got better shit at home." Shooting you an amused but cautious look, "I deal."
That caught your attention. You hummed, weighing the information before taking another hit. "Good to know."
She let out a small laugh, shaking her head before replying. "You say that like you're gonna actually remember." You grin.
"I've been looking for a new dealer anyway. My guy has been upcharging me since I said no to a date."
Vi hesitated and against her judgment, held out her hand to you. "Vi," she said, introducing herself. Vi hated selling to people who weren't introduced by her customers, the risk of getting caught made her nervous. Hell, she had only known you for a couple of minutes and she was willing to throw her caution to the wind.
But Vi always had a weakness for pretty girls. And staring at you in the dim glow of the porch light shut her brain down.
She reaches into her pocket, pulls her phone out and offers it to you to put your number in. What am I doing? Stepping closer, she presses it into your free hand.
You come forward, taking the phone from her. Her fingers are rough against yours. You try to convince yourself that the electricity you felt was because you took one too many hits and not because of how nervous the hot redhead is making you feel. You slip your hand away from hers and Vi almost chases it. Gods, what Vi would do to feel your hand it hers again.
"Don't make me regret that," she murmured, low and serious.
Something in her tone sent a thrill down your spine. Not a warning exactly. But maybe a challange.
You smirked, typing your number into the phone. You hand her back the phone, leaning in closer than you already were. "No promises."
Before anything else could happen, Jinx burst through the door. A knowing and mischievous smile graces her face. "Don't let me ruin the moment guys." Her voice cuts the obviously thick tension between the two of you.
You offer Vi a smile before you disappear back into the house, the door clicking shut behind you.
Vi sighed, staring down at the phone that was in her grip.
The screen lit up. New Contact: Trouble❤️
Her jaw clenched. A chuckle escaped her lips as she turned off the phone and put it back in her pocket.
Yeah. She was in for it.
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YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PAY ANY MONEY TO SEE SPACE BABY.
YOU HAVE TO PAY MONEY IF YOU WANT TO SEE IT EARLY, ALL AT ONCE, WITH THE CREATOR TALKBACK. THIS IS A STARKID BUSINESS MODEL THAT HAS EXISTED SINCE 2014, IT IS NOT "BEHIND A SECOND PAYWALL", IT IS A WAY TO GIVE A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY TO THE ARTISTS WHO WORKED ON THE SHOW KNOWING FULL WELL THAT IT IS AN EXPERIMENTAL PILOT AND COULD FLOP.
anyways. hi this is my rant blog so here's the rant
tldr: starkid needs a social media manager, they don't make the youtube residuals or ticket sales profit you think they do, chicago and la are great places to do theatre due to the audiences they draw but they are SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE, capitalism is rotting this country from the inside out and starkid knows this better than anyone
first and foremost:
curt mega is not a legal representative of starkid and he is entirely within his rights to defend misconceptions about the art he makes. he is so respectful to the fandom on here, even apologizing to the confessions blog after accidentally following them because he wants fans to have a safe space where they don't feel like they're being monitored by someone from the company. there is nothing wrong with him trying to assuage people's fears about the show. debunk whatever you want my dude (including if i say anything wrong in this post!)
i am not, under any circumstances, a blind defender of starkid. they've made choices that i do not enjoy in the 15 years that i've been watching them. like i say in this post, i think fans need more notice than a week if there is going to be a livestream we have* to pay money for. i would like a musical that is composed by someone other than jeff or clark. i wish the black friday deluxe download had the digital ticket in it. i wish jangle ball could've come to the actual southeast rather than claiming to be coming to the east coast then hanging out in new york (but as you'll see, that would've cost MONEYYYY). you will notice that these are nitpicky personal grievances. that's the point. im not gonna shell out completely for a group of white guys in LA, no matter how autistic i am about the musicals they make.
as someone who also donated to starkid returns and has also been disappointed to see how long it's taken for this stuff to get off the ground (I absolutely loved cinderella's castle but i would not have minded waiting for it if it meant we got space baby sooner or sissy/ttip. i want to see/read Sissy SO FUCKING BAD)
but think about it. starkid returns made $386,000. a weeklong rental of the El Portal Theatre costs $12,000. so for two weeks of tech thats $24,000. the two weekends of performances were $6,000-7,500 each. it's $7500 per shoot day for a film production. already, that's almost $50,000. Now think about renting film equipment, making costumes, sets, props, paying the cast, crew, theatre technicians, house management, REHEARSAL SPACE RENTAL, we don't know if any of the actors had to be housed in LA while they were working on the show, not to mention getting merch made (FUCKING EXPENSIVE). And that's just on Nerdy Prudes. They also had an entire fucking national tour to fund. i ain't doin the math on every theatre they rented for that tho.
while the 10iversary kickstarter made about $547,000, considerably more than SK Returns, that money went into funding the travel and stay of the fuck ton of people who came to LA for the show, renting the Ace Hotel Theatre, funding Black Friday, and of course the unfathomably expensive Wiggly plushes, which were very kindly restocked what, three or four times? because the FANS kept begging for them. and then after all of that was said and done, the company took a huge hit with the pandemic. Some of the SK returns money probably went into making Workin' Boys too! That's what happens when a global pandemic shuts down all your plans for two years!
i was also surprised to hear that space baby wasn't going straight to youtube. I had it in my mind that it was going to be something similar to Movies, Musicals, and Me. I see now that I was incorrect. It's experimental. It involves SO MANY ACTORS. and not to mention starkid has been doing the digital ticket prior to youtube release thing for YEARS. my main thing is that i would be totally totally fine with having to buy another ticket for space baby (which is only $10 by the way, less than all of their other digital tickets. not to mention it includes the talkback afterwards) if they had only clarified it just a little bit earlier. Nightmare Time 2 was announced on October 8th, 2021 and the first ticketed livestream wasn't until the 23rd. that's two weeks, a whole week longer than we got for space baby. however, im willing to understand that there probably wasn't as much time to announce things/people have been a little bit scrambled lately due to, i dunno, having to evacuate due to the raging wildfire.
unfortunately, people aren't always going to understand that making art is fucking expensive in this day and age. i hate that starkid has to keep reiterating that but it might be smoother if they had a media trained person running the socials who had a prewritten explanation of "making stuff costs money" for the people who don't get it. and then when starkid DOES do stuff for cheap they get taken advantage of. i'm still not over those fuckwads who bought meredith's beautiful handmade coasters at VHSCC and upsold them for three times as much money. the people who bootlegged the black friday digital ticket and posted it online just cause they didn't want to wait the measly 3 months it took for the show to get posted online.
being angry when the person who made the show is looking at the tumblr tag for the show because he wants to see what people are saying about the show he made comes thru to clarify some misconceptions when the tumblr tag is full of people not understanding the starkid business model that's been around since 2014 is not the move. not the move!!!
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Little bit of a 2012 rant / tangent with this one- LMAO
I genuinely loathe the writers of this show painting Za-Naron (The Aeon that was housed inside of the crystal that April was given during Season 4-) as this "evil entity" or "evil being" when I genuinely disagree-??
It makes me sad because I feel like Za-Naron was more of a victim than the show acknowledges? My biggest reason for thinking this is because of the fact that things seemed fine / copesthetic with Za-Naron while April was still in Space. I also think it helped that they didn't stay in one place / planet for too long during the Space Arc, which could have also prevented any corruption with Za-Naron during that timeframe. But then when April returns to Earth, of course she's going to stay there permanently / for a WAY longer amount of time because that's her home. The show even states that Earth (More specifically humanity-) was the sole cause of Za-Naron's deterioration (From basically, "City At War" to "The Power Inside Her"-). Za-Naron couldn't just leave, you know-?? She was essentially powerless and helpless during this time, and was ultimately forced to be corrupted,,
I'm not saying that this was entirely April's fault, because it's not like April can control the fact that Aeons are kind of fragile to environments that don't necessarily benefit them- But I do think her attachment to the Aeon crystal and the fact that she enjoyed the power boost that she got from Za-Naron's power did play a significant part in Za-Naron's downward spiral,,
I also wish April wasn't painted as such a victim in this entire situation, personally-?? I know a lot of people like to point out that Za-Naron's corruption was the biggest reason as to why April was acting "out of character", but personally I disagree for two reasons. One, we've seen April have shitty moments before the Aeon crystal was given to her in Season 4 (Not that the show necessarily likes to acknowledge them as bad moments from her- 🙄). So it's not like she's entirely innocent or incapable of having these types of reactions / bad attitudes, not to mention the fact that it rarely gets addressed by her friends at all (And if we're being speculative I personally think she knows that they don't call her out on anything-?? That's why I personally think it was so easy for her to keep the crystal despite everyone pretty much acknowledging that it was bad for her, because when she tells them to leave her alone, they actually listen. But let this be any other character than April and they would've forcefully taken that crystal away post haste, dude. 💀). And two, April's still human at the end of the day- I feel like she should've been allowed to be an asshole and it not be because of some outside influence-? I think this would have been a great way to stray away from this "perfect / flawless" persona that they like to associate with her character so badly. April should be allowed to have moments where she acts out and does things that are messed up simply because she's having an immature moment / she's clearly still is growing as a person. Just like everyone else.
That's what's super upsetting about this entire Aeon crystal Arc with April for me, because I feel like instead of these writers painting April as a victim (yet again) of an alien possessing her / it being a, "There was nothing she could have done- Oh no ! Poor April ! 😢" type of scenario, this Arc should have been about her having a really terrible moment as a character and growing from it / truly taking accountability and solving the issue herself. I think this should have been about her feeling weak and growing attached to the power and competence she gained from Za-Naron / Za-Naron's power. This would have made sense?? Not only could this have been a good callback to April during Season 2 when she was expressing frustration with the Turtles always helping her during combat (i.e. "The Kraang Conspiracy"-), but we also had this issue be revisited in the same Season with "City At War" and her feeling incompetent / not where she wants to be yet again (Which "City At War" this is a whole other can of worms, because I hate this episode too. They could have done so many things differently, and I don't know why they chose to do this episode the way that they did- 💀).
I guess to summarize, I think April should've properly owned up to the fact that she did mess up as well in this situation (Because I know Za-Naron was not entirely innocent and her way of thinking wasn't okay, but I'm not surprised by that given that she's an ancient alien species and probably has a very straightforward / tunnel vision kind of logic-) and Za-Naron maybe should have been sent back to Space / her home planet to recover from such a traumatic incident. Or something. 👍 Lmao
#april#april o'neil#Za-Naron#tmnt#tmnt 2012#teenage mutant ninja turtles#teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012
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