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#all I know is Black people especially Black women deserve some peace
literaryspinster · 7 months
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Once again for the people in back…
I will never, ever, EVER give a fuck about race swapping, ever.
I don’t care what your reasoning is either, oh, you think Black people deserve original characters (we 100 percent have those but whatever), I think Black actors deserve to not get bullied for taking a coveted role.
Oh, you just care about accuracy? No the fuck you don’t, no adaptation is 100 percent accurate, no actor looks exactly the way the creator envisioned them (also I think the fixation on the most basic ass aesthetics that every other fictional character in existence has is frankly pathetic and sad).
You think it’s pandering? What do you call the fact that 95 percent of popular genre fiction written before a certain time was overwhelmingly white? And the ones that weren’t tended to get whitewashed in even fairly recent adaptations (*cough* Earthsea *cough*). If you want to be inclusive —which is not inherently bad! Wanting your adaptation to better appeal to nonwhite people isn’t wrong, it’s good business sense, and for some creators, simply the right thing to do— the only way to adapt certain fictional worlds is to change the race of a character or two or make up a character that wasn’t in the original lore, and neither tends to be taken all that well. But you still have the originals if you simply can’t deal with seeing too many unsightly negroes to the point where you have to do an internet about it, enjoy. Nobody owes you an adaptation in the first place, there’ll probably never be a Saga TV series and you don’t see me having a meltdown.
You think too many nonwhite people in one fictional realm is distracting? I’m begging you to unpack that.
Constant bitching isn’t making race swapping less of a thing either, the studios know you’re going to whine and they still do it, they might even do it BECAUSE they know you’re going to whine and want the free publicity. The only thing you’re accomplishing is annoying everyone outside of your dumb little bubble.
Now, do I think it’s always done well, not necessarily, Black characters get fucked over in general so why would race swapped characters be any different? Invincible, for example. Making the first love interest Black only to make her unlikable to a large percentage of the fandom wasn’t cool. But the problem wasn’t the race swapping, it was changing her personality to create unnecessary conflict rather than changing it in small ways to highlight her Blackness. You can bring up the change in character without mentioning race at all, but some people are so committed to racism that they simply can not do that.
In short, I don’t care what your grievances are, I just want to see talented Black actors getting big roles and getting paid.
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fanbynature · 1 month
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A post from Dani Howe, who recently left smosh after working in the marketing team
"From Pet to Threat" - This just happened to me AGAIN and after 10+ years in this biz, I’m sick of having to get over it in silence for fear of being blacklisted, or labeled as “difficult to work with” because I chose to be open about my working experience. I won’t go into details, as this isn’t meant to be that kind of post, but I want to share this research because the “Pet to Threat" phenomena keeps happening to me and so many of my peers, particularly over the last few years here in LA. It’s truly an abusive cycle that repeats for far too many people in the workplace, but especially and aggressively for Black women in the entertainment/media industry. So many of us work extremely hard from a place of love, peace and genuine passion for our crafts. We choose to put our prowess out there, hoping that it’ll be reciprocated with that same authenticity by our leadership/mentors/peers, only to be undermined and vehemently devalued in favor of this insistence for power and control at every turn. I’ll never understand the need to prioritize pettiness & ego over doing the right thing for another team member or putting the best, most collaborative work out there for your company. What’s the point of hiring an expert or someone with big potential, just to diminish them? I'm tired of entering spaces I was promised were full of golden potential and stability, only to have to abruptly leave that space a short while later, lest endure unsafe + toxic working dynamics if I choose to brave it. The feelings of shame, guilt and confusion that come after are all too familiar, and yet they never get any easier to deal with. Constantly being in an anxious place of trying to figure out what went wrong and changing my approach, while the world you left couldn’t even be bothered to think twice about you, feels like a losing game. Why even play anymore? I'm only left jobless with no prospects, broke, and burdened with heavy feelings of sadness that I feel really dumb for having. Because it’s just a job, right? And the house always wins.
Some of you might question why even share all of this. Well, I fully believe transparency is one of the best ways to educate and inspire those around you. By sharing this article and a bit about my experience, I hope others feel encouraged to choose themselves and stop letting lazy business practices suppress their potential. I have no idea what’s next for me - this post has probably tanked any chance of me continuing a career in entertainment marketing. But what I do know is that I’m not accepting being overlooked anymore. Not having my true potential nurtured or recognized because the mentors I believed in would rather act out of insecurity than help me thrive is total BS. I deserve better than that, and so do you. I hope today is the day you know your worth."
Im interested in who are they going to blame now. It was once Defy - but now that it's in the hands of the original creators and owners - the same mistakes seem to be popping up. Hmmm
Also if fans start villanizing her the way they did with Boze and Saige - 👊👊👊 i will find you and i will punch u in the fucking face
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cinamun · 6 months
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Hello Cinamun! I wanna start off by saying I love your blog very much, and your story is my favorite on Tumblr so PLEASE don’t block me!! But, I have to wonder if you’re starting to add drama just for chaos sake? We’re still in the middle of all the stuff with Dira/Ryker/Rah that’s unresolved, and now Jayce, who we’ve only seen as loyal and honest is gonna have an affair? It just feels like a bit too much. Can anyone be happy and secure for once? Does everyone have to go through pain and struggle every time? Hope is dealing with grief while being a first time mom of twins, and I have a soft spot for her so maybe I’m biased but I think she deserves a happily ever after. Black women deserve peace and happiness, along with all the BS we go through, there’s room for both. I really appreciate you as a writer. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to give us non-stop trauma just to keep up with the story.
Hey friend! Thank you for the kind words. But now, let us ask ourselves some questions, shall we?
"and now Jayce, who we’ve only seen as loyal and honest is gonna have an affair? It just feels like a bit too much."
Firstly....
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Why do you think this man is going to have an affair? Why do you automatically assume that? ESPECIALLY after all of the qualifiers you gave him. Its only too much if you're *making* it too much.
Hear me out....
If you're new here, yes, it might seem like "too much" so I ask, too much of what, specifically? Implication? Subtext? Friend, that is THEE best part of writing. Your head is spinning so when and IF a shoe drops, you never see it coming. So again, "too much" of what, specfically?
"Can anyone be happy and secure for once? Does everyone have to go through pain and struggle every time?"
Nope, you're not new here and I can tell because you started with "please don't block me" so you MUST know that I get your second question all the time. So you're not new here you just rebranded to fucking troll me, and I hate that, but I'm gonna entertain you while I wait for my flight.
If you think pain and struggle is coming because Jay ran into a student in a coffee shop on campus, you need to ask yourself why you assume there will be "pain and struggle" every time. I enjoy mindfucking you, it might not be painful or a struggle but you might be shook and question your life choices when I'm done.
As for your last few sentences, I am a Black woman so I write about the experiences of Black women. You're anon so I don't know if you're a Black woman, I don't assume the identities of my readers.
Myself and a bunch of IDENTIFIED Black women readers have been over this topic already, about Black women deserving joy and our happily ever after. It is absolutely true that we do. So for you to assume the characters in this story wont get their happily ever after because they are Black women says more about you than it does about me as an author and Black woman.
Initially I was going to block you because if you want happy shit in every plot, every arc, you can find that on other blogs. I write real shit. I don't sugar coat a gotdamn thing. But I decided to just let you make the decision of unfollowing me if its "too much" for you. I am actually writing what I like to write about and if that's non-stop trauma then so be it. If people don't like that then its on them to stay or go. Fortunately, I am NOT writing non-stop trauma and anyone who feels like that clearly isn't reading the same story as the rest of the room.
Would you like your wings to go?
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intersectionalpraxis · 5 months
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from a feminist perspective, what do you think when isnotreal women post garbage like this? https://www.tumblr.com/anneemay/736470687414386688
and also about how taylor swift has been silent on everything but last night I saw a tweet that she was seen going to one of ramy youssef's shows and all proceeds would go to gaza humanitarian relief? a bunch of isnotreal girls were freaking out and saying things like 'I don't see it!' and 'she's hopefully just pro-peace and not against us!' and 'some people are pro-isnotreal but just feel bad for palestine'. I would think as the time person of the year (lol the gazan journalists and doctors deserve it) with a lot of influence, she should speak up? when she told everyone to vote, there was a huge surge in voter registration. not to give her more power than she has because she obviously can't influence policy but if she were to join the ceasefire demands, it would bring out even more support and put more pressure. idk! just wanted to hear your thoughts on these topics if you have the bandwidth to do so!
I really do not know how much more depraved settlers can get, and I'm continually reminded it get can get lower and lower each time I see something like this:
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From slut shaming a Palestinian women when an IOF soldier found her lingerie in her OWN fucking room that they were raiding, to an IOF soldier happily destroying a small stationery shop, to another IOF scum stealing a Palestinian woman's silver necklace he looted (a necklace that was supposed to be worn on her wedding day, but she was killed in an attack) in order to give it to his own girlfriend...
I just... the layers of indoctrination here is incredibly evident (I actually intend to post something about this in the near future) as one element, because you cannot do something or say something like this without being void of humanity -and also, without being so deeply ingrained in this notion that Palestinian people are not human beings -and that by degrading, humiliating, and dehumanizing them in ways like this will somehow justify the violence, terror, and genocide the IOF is committing... it's just so wild to me.
Because the IOF is continuing to commit heinous war crimes, crimes against humanity, and has and will continue to disproportionately commit sexual violence against Palestinian women and young boys, and it is absolutely inhumane and despicable -and the fact that this person thinks the IOF has a 'good' reputation -is absolutely next level shamelessness. My stance has and always will be if you're a 'feminist' who supports the IOF, you're not a feminist -you're a genocidal apologist like the rest of those sympathetic to IOF crimes.
As for Taylor Swift, like her fellow celebrities -and every single one of them that signed that document in support of the IOF, including those who have been and remain silent -they are all complicit. A part from saying celebrity culture needs to be dismantled and diminished because why -like why are these people put on pedestals is one thing, but also -if you have to do go through mental gymnastics to defend that silence or complicity (like fans of Selena Gomez did), I need people to critically reflect A LOT more. And that if your fan base is more concerned about your 'side' rather than a ceasefire... then I think the people who need to be calling this out especially are Swifties themselves -and to acknowledge that this is an issue. Just like how Taylor Swift for YEARS made bank fully well knowing white supremacists LOVED her -and only being more 'socially aware' when she could monetize it has also never sat well with me.
There are SO many voices encouraging people to vote, to get involved in their communities and to raise awareness about social issues (a lot of whom are Black, Brown, and Indigenous artists and creators -so many of which get backlash a lot more than their white colleagues do), so even with her platform, I think she's always going to be motivated by what will make her money and will appease the people she works for (which, I want to assume as pro-IOF).
And even if she was supportive [like morally knows what the IOF is doing is criminal, violent, and unethical] but is not vocal about it, I think it's important we stop putting our energies into getting celebrities and influencers like her to talk about this (especially given her track record). Generally speaking, I would prefer to elevate Palestinian voices and activists like so many have already (like Hind, Motaz, Muhammad, Bisan, Plestia, and many more) than people like her. I do understand why people with millions of 'followers,' are powerful -they are (like Kehlani for instance -and I love this woman with my whole heart because she has been very open about supporting Palestine); but the one's who aren't transparent -they are also millionaires/billionaires who have social and financial capital in ways that are beyond excessive and I do not believe any one of them will speak on Historic Palestine if they haven't from the start or haven't already and addressed the reasons as to why, especially given the US's position -which is that the IOF has a right to 'defend itself.'
So I say support the artists and people who have been aligned with Palestine since the beginning, and to be wary of the people who have remained silent -and to boycott and call out the people who are complicit in this genocide. I know that this was an incredibly long response, but at the heart of it -I don't like or trust Taylor Swift. And I am amazed every single time I see her fans run to her defense (I know there are exceptions, which I respect), but at the end of the day she's a celebrity/an entertainer, and she will capitalize and monetize on 'feminist' or 'social justice' issues when it can be sanitized and watered down in a way that is not 'too political,' but makes a statement -so that it can still sell records and sell out stadiums.
I posted a video recently where a creator on tiktok called Taylor Swift out and The Times, if I can link it here I will as well.
Thank you so much for your questions, and if you have any remaining feedback or insights, please do not hesitate to send another message.
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kat2107 · 5 months
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I've seen some posts recently and I feel it's necessary to say this again, as someone who has been following, protesting and agonizing over this for more than 20 years:
Supporting Israel's right to exist and supporting Israeli's rights to not be raped, murdered, tied to their children and being burned alive is NOT the same as supporting Netanyahu's fascists government.
Yes. These things happened. I have friends who were direct victims and luckily survived along with their 10-month-old.
These things have been happening for a long time.
BUT
Supporting Palestinian rights to not be incarcerated in a ghetto, being carpet bombed, to not be the victims of ethnic cleansing, to not have their children shot for being angry is NOT the same as supporting Hamas either.
And yes, these things happen, and they have been happening for a long time, according to my Palestinian friend, whose family is just trapped in Gaza.
Hamas and Netanyahu are cut from the same cloth. They need each other and there are good indication that they support each other to a certain point.
Read up on how both Hamas and Netanyahu came into power, who their supporters are. Who is against them.
I still remember a time when there was hope. When there seemed to be a realistic chance of peace, stability and freedom.
We do not hear much about the thousand upon thousands who protested Netanyahu in the last years because the western press shies away from anything even remotely criticizing Israel. We don't hear about those who oppose Hamas at all, because they have been killed long ago, or struggle too much to have the energy to protest.
The leader of Hamas lives in a plush apartment in Qatar. He said it was a good thing that Palestinian women and children died (because marketing, ya know).
A state is never just the ones whose faces you know.
It's the children, the people who just want to live.
And the moment, you deny them that right, you are wrong. No matter how just your cause.
Israel and Palestine are its children, too, and they DESERVE that support. Every support they can possibly get.
There is an orchestrated social media campaign going on at the moment, headed by Russia (surprise), to make Hamas look like the fighters for freedom and happiness that they definitely aren't. But the US having to help Israel diverts their attention from Ukraine, so fuck that.
You need to get your own history, you need to look at this with a neutral gaze, beyond the videos you see online, beyond the pictures and the things you get told. Do not believe the things you get told.
Go back 30 years. Read up on PLO, Fatah, Hamas, Yitzak Rabin (who btw. pushed through LGBT equality in the Israeli army, just as an aside) Read up on who murdered whom and how that led us to the situation today. (Look especially at what Netanyahu said about the Jewish religious fanatics that murdered Rabin)
Find out who the bad actors are in this and who really are the victims. You will realize very quickly that support for Israel or Gaza and Palestine is not the clear cut black and white issue it's made out to be.
And then ask yourselves if your really, REALLY want to be someone who is ok with the death and displacement of millions of civilians.
And how you can help the victims better in this.
Because no matter how just your cause, if that's the case, you are on the wrong side.
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azvolrien · 2 years
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The Home of Dragons - Epilogue
OK, let’s wrap this up.
~~~
           The sun rose over Myrkfjord. Narwhal had returned and was docked at the harbour, but it wouldn’t be swimming south again until the next day; there was no rush to pack up and leave their rented house just yet. Instead they gathered on the balcony for a leisurely breakfast.
           “Something I’ve been wondering since the dragon,” said Roan, leaning back on the balcony’s wooden bench with a mug of tea in her hands. It had been a couple of weeks since they came back down from the valley below Isgard; those, at least, had been quiet and relaxing, and the rest of Prince Leovar’s visit had gone without a hitch. If the surviving Sons of the Sky had returned to Drekaheim, they had made themselves very scarce. “If ‘Redbolt’ is a nickname that the soldiers gave you, what were you called before that? What’s your real name?”
           Redbolt tore a strip of meat off his own breakfast, a deer haunch he had carried down from somewhere in the hills. He had seen a healer to seal the wound in his chest. “I was Goshawk before I was Redbolt,” he said once he had swallowed. “But it’s no more or less real a name for coming first. Most gryphons’ll go through a couple different names in a lifetime.”
           “Do you want us to call you that?” asked Asta, cutting a honeyed pastry into pieces. The bump on her head had gone right down, and a check-up with the same healer had confirmed her concussion had passed with no permanent damage.
           He shook his head, though his tail twitched in a gryphon smile. “Sweet of you to offer, but Goshawk was a bright-eyed young recruit in his first year of border duty. I haven’t been him in a long, long time. Skies, I’ve been Redbolt almost four times longer.”
           Asta shuffled along the bench to lean against Roan’s side and offer her the pastry plate. She set her mug down on the table, freeing one hand to take a slice and the other to wrap around Asta’s shoulders. Bramble laid her chin on Roan’s knee, gazing beseechingly up at her.
           “I can’t stop thinking about everything we’ve seen up here,” said Asta. “The dragon most of all, of course, but everything in the cliff tunnels, in the stronghold up above… Everything that the Eyrie Culture left behind here. Especially the murals in the skull cavern. That black cloud in the carvings – is that literally what happened to the dragons, or is it just a poetic way of depicting some kind of plague that went through them?”
           “And why did that lot call themselves the Sons of the Sky if half of them are women?” wondered Roan.
           “Maybe they just thought it sounded better,” said Redbolt.
           “I bet the dragon knows what happened back then,” said Asta, looking absently out at the horizon. “There are scholars all over the continent who would give their right arms for an interview with it. But no, the prince was right – it deserves to be left in peace.” She took a bite from her own pastry slice and chewed thoughtfully. “I wonder if the bakery in Auchtertan could be persuaded to start making these.”
           “They’re good, aren’t they?” said Roan, helping herself to another piece. “You want some, big man?”
           “Yeah, I’ll try a bit,” said Redbolt. He reached over and skewered a piece on one talon. “I don’t know if I can get all the same flavours as you,” he said once he had turned it over on his tongue a few times and tipped his head back to swallow. “Think it was made with people who can chew in mind. But it’s good!”
           Bramble was still staring. Roan relented and, after having her lie down, gave her a dog biscuit and a scratch behind the ears.
           “I expect they’ll really step up explorations of the tunnels going forwards,” said Asta. “It might be interesting to come back here in a few years to see how much further they’ve got.”
           Roan kissed the top of her head. “Maybe, aye. But if it’s all the same to you, I think I’m ready to stay at home for a while.”
           “Oh, you won’t get any argument from me there. Redbolt?”
           “I’ll come back down with you on Narwhal,” he said. “After that, hrm. See how I feel. Might fly home from there, or else get a ship from Duncraig.”
           “Either way, you should have good weather for it at this time of year,” said Asta. She finished her pastry slice, still gazing into the distance, and began nibbling on another. “I wonder if we should try and pick up an extra suitcase for all the new books I’ve bought up here.”
           Roan laughed and kissed her again. “I think we’ll manage with what we’ve got if we pack them in carefully.”
           “I might have a few tips there,” put in Redbolt.
           “You don’t even wear clothes!” said Asta.
           “Well, yeah, but I picked up a bit from my mates in the army. An important military skill, efficient packing.”
           They spent the rest of the day just pottering around the house, tidying up and packing their cases. Asta’s books did fit, though it required some careful rearranging of her laundry, and the next morning they left the house and locked up for the last time. Narwhal waited at the harbour; they showed their tickets and walked up the gangplank into the great construct’s saddle, before stowing their luggage in their cabins and climbing to the deck for a final look back at Drekaheim. Below, the dockhands unhitched the mooring lines from the stocky iron bollards and tossed them up to the crew. At a tug of the hawser-reins, Narwhal pushed away from the dock with a wave of its flippers and its powerful tail drove it back down the fjord, its white wake streaming back from its crest.
           Redbolt sat up on his haunches, resting his front claws on the back rail. “Well,” he said, drawing the word out into a long sigh. “That was a bit different.”
           Asta laughed, a small, tired sound, and let her head fall sideways to rest on Roan’s shoulder. “It was a bit, wasn’t it?”
           Roan hugged her in close to her side, holding Bramble’s leash with her other hand. “I’m not sure if the Eyrie Culture left much to look at down by Loch Gorm,” she said, “but I’d bet the library back in Auchtertan has plenty for you to read about them. I’d be interested in knowing a bit more myself, come to that. The history bunch at Duncraig Uni might have some stuff if you wrote to them.”
           “I did hear that a couple of scholars there think they’ve made some strides in deciphering some of the inscriptions in Eyrie Spire,” said Asta thoughtfully. She smiled. “You never know, maybe they could use some outside help with proofreading.”
           Drekaheim slowly vanished into the distance behind them, but the high peak of Isgard took far longer to disappear, looming against the overcast sky. A few lights in the windows carved into the cliffs on either side suggested that unseen faces watched Narwhal’s progress down the black waters of the fjord. Dark shadows moved in the clouds, threatening rain, and a few heavy drops began to splatter on the boards underfoot.
           Redbolt lowered his claws to the deck. “And that’s my cue to head inside,” he said, turning away from the rail. “I’ll be in the galley.”
           “Aye, I could do with a wee snack as well,” said Roan. “Asta?”
           “You go ahead,” she said without looking away from the view. “Save the kennel staff from having to towel Bramble off. I’ll come inside in a minute.”
           Roan nodded and brushed one hand back over Asta’s hair and down through her ponytail, resting her fingers on the small of her back for a moment. “See you in a minute, then.”
           Asta kept watching as Narwhal’s wake spread out in a long V behind the construct, eventually raising little waves to bounce off the foot of the cliffs. Perhaps, she fancied, not all of the shadows in the clouds were just rain waiting to fall. Perhaps some of them were great wings and long trailing tails, following Narwhal down the fjord to see that it passed safely across their ancestors’ ancient borders. Perhaps, even, some still bore riders through the blue sky above the clouds.
           Well. It was something to think about, anyway. Asta gave herself a little shake, pulled her coat tighter against the rain, and followed the others inside.
~~~ Pro tip: you can fit a lot more in a suitcase if you roll your clothes up instead of folding them. Always useful to make room for more books.
As Myrkfjord is a long, thin body of water with steeply-sloping sides, the wake of a vessel passing down it can leave waves bouncing back and forth long after said vessel has disappeared. I saw a programme once that proposed this effect is what a lot of people are really seeing when they claim to have spotted the Loch Ness Monster.
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qqueenofhades · 3 years
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Do you really hate this county? Or were you just ranting?
Sigh. I debated whether or not to answer this, since I usually keep the real-life/politics/depressing current events to a relative minimum on this blog, except when I really can't avoid ranting about it. But I have some things to get off my chest, it seems, and you did ask. So.
The thing is, any American with a single modicum of genuine historical consciousness knows that despite all the triumphalist mythology about Pulling Up By Our Bootstraps and the American Dream and etc, this country was founded and built on the massive and systematic exploitation and extermination of Black and Indigenous people. And now, when we are barely (400 years later!!!) getting to a point of acknowledging that in a widespread way, oh my god the screaming. I'm so sick of the American right wing I could spit for so many reasons, not least of which is the increasingly reductive and reactive attempts to put the genie back in the bottle and set up hysterical boogeymen about how Teaching Your Children Critical Race Theory is the end of all things. They have forfeited all pretense of being a real governing party; remember how their only platform at the 2020 RNC was "support whatever Trump says?" They have devolved to the point where the cruelty IS the point, to everyone who doesn't fit the nakedly white supremacist mold. They don't have anything to do aside from attempt to usher in actual, literal, dictionary-definition-of-fascism and sponsor armed revolts against the peaceful transfer of power.
That is fucking exhausting to be aware of all the time, especially with the knowledge that if we miss a single election cycle -- which is exceptionally easy to do with the way the Democratic electorate needs to be wooed and courted and herded like cats every single time, rather than just getting their asses to the polls and voting to keep Nazis out of office -- they will be right back in power again. If Manchin and Sinema don't get over their poseur pearl-clutching and either nuke the filibuster or carve out an exception for voting rights, the John Lewis Voting Rights Act is never going to get passed, no matter how many boilerplate appeals the Democratic leadership makes on Twitter. In which case, the 2022 midterms are going to give us Kevin McCarthy, Speaker of the House (I threw up in my mouth a little typing that) and right back to the Mitch McConnell Obstruction Power Hour in the Senate. The Online Left (TM) will then blame the Democrats for not doing more to stop them. These are, of course, the same people who refused to vote for Hillary Clinton out of precious moral purity reasons in 2016, handed the election to Trump, and now like to complain when the Trump-stacked Supreme Court reliably churns out terrible decisions. Gee, it's almost like elections have consequences!!
Aside from my exasperation with the death-cult right-wing fascists and the Online Left (TM), I am sick and tired of how forty years of "trickle-down" Reaganomics has created a world where billionaires can just fly to space for the fun of it, while the rest of America (and the world) is even more sick, poor, overheated, economically deprived, and unable to survive the biggest public health crisis in a century, even if half the elected leadership wasn't actively trying to sabotage it. Did you know that half of American workers can't even afford a one-bedroom apartment? Plus the obvious scandal that is race relations, health care, paid leave, the education system (or lack thereof), etc etc. I'm so tired of this America Is The Greatest Country in the World mindless jingoistic catchphrasing. We are an empire in the late stages of collapse and it's not going to be pretty for anyone. We have been poisoned on sociopathic-libertarian-selfishness-disguised-as-Freedom ideology for so long that that's all there is left. We have become a country of idiots who believe everything their idiot friends post on social media, but in a very real sense, it's not directly those individuals' fault. How could they, when they have been very deliberately cultivated into that mindset and stripped of critical thinking skills, to serve a noxious combination of money, power, and ideology?
I am tired of the fact that I have become so drained of empathy that when I see news about more people who refused to get the vaccine predictably dying of COVID, my reaction is "eh, whatever, they kind of deserved it." I KNOW that is not a good mindset to have, and I am doing my best to maintain my personal attempts to be kind to those I meet and to do my small part to make the world better. I know these are human beings who believed what they were told by people that they (for whatever reason) thought knew better than them, and that they are part of someone's family, they had loved ones, etc. But I just can't summon up the will to give a single damn about them (I'm keeping a bingo card of right-wing anti-vax radio hosts who die of COVID and every time it's like, "Alexa, play Another One Bites The Dust.") The course that the pandemic took in 21st-century America was not preordained or inevitable. It was (and continues to be) drastically mismanaged for cynical political reasons, and the legacy of the Former Guy continues to poison any attempts to bring it under control or convince people to get a goddamn vaccine. We now have over 100,000 patients hospitalized with COVID across the country -- more than last summer, when the vaccines weren't available.
I have been open about my fury about the devaluation of the humanities and other critical thinking skills, about the fact that as an academic in this field, my chances of getting a full-time job for which I have trained extensively and acquired a specialist PhD are... very low. I am tired of the fact that Americans have been encouraged to believe whatever bullshit they fucking please, regardless of whether it is remotely true, and told that any attempt to correct them is "anti-freedom." I am tired of how little the education system functions in a useful way at all -- not necessarily due to the fault of teachers, who have to work with what they're given, and who are basically heroes struggling stubbornly along in a profession that actively hates them, but because of relentless under-funding, political interference, and furious attempts, as discussed above, to keep white America safely in the dark about its actual history. I am tired of the fact that grade school education basically relies on passing the right standardized tests, the end. I am tired of the implication that the truth is too scary or "un-American" to handle. I am tired. Tired.
I know as well that "America" is not synonymous in all cases with "capitalist imperialist white-supremacist corporate death cult." This is still the most diverse country in the world. "America" is not just rich white middle-aged Republicans. "America" involves a ton of people of color, women, LGBTQ people, Muslims, Jews, Christians of good will (I have a whole other rant on how American Christianity as a whole has yielded all pretense of being any sort of a principled moral opposition), white allies, etc etc. all trying to make a better world. The blue, highly vaccinated, Biden-winning states and counties are leading the economic recovery and enacting all kinds of progressive-wishlist dream policies. We DID get rid of the Orange One via the electoral process and avert fascism at the ballot box, which is almost unheard-of, historically speaking. But because, as also discussed above, certain elements of the Democratic electorate need to fall in love with a candidate every single time or threaten to withhold their vote to punish the rest of the country for not being Progressive Enough, these gains are constantly fragile and at risk of being undone in the next electoral cycle. Yes, the existing system is a crock of shit. But it's what we've got right now, and the other alternative is open fascism, which we all got a terrifying taste of over the last four years. I don't know about you, but I really don't want to go back.
So... I don't know. I don't know if that stacks up to hate. I do hate almost everything about what this country currently is, structurally speaking, but I recognize that is not identical with the many people who still live here and are trying to do their best, including my friends, family, and myself. I am exhausted by the fact that as an older millennial, I am expected to survive multiple cataclysmic economic crashes, a planet that is literally boiling alive, a barely functional political system run on black cash, lies, and xenophobia, a total lack of critical thinking skills, renewed assaults on women/queer people/POC/etc, and somehow feel like I'm confident or prepared for the future. Not all these problems are only America's fault alone. The West as a whole bears huge responsibility for the current clusterfuck that the world is in, for many reasons, and so do some non-Western countries. But there is no denying that many of these problems have ultimate American roots. See how the ongoing fad for right-wing authoritarian strongmen around the world has them modeling themselves openly on Trump (like Brazil's lunatic president, Jair Bolsonaro, who talks all the time about how Trump is his political role model). See what's going on in Afghanistan right now. Etc. etc.
Anyway. I am very, very tired. There you have it.
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onesunofagun · 3 years
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I shall now yell about Ingo, please stand by:
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Ingo’s transformation from the underappreciated backbone of the ranch to an absolute ruff-wearing cantaloupe of a man is also pretty interesting (if you’re the kind of person who absorbs the Zelda series through your skin like a frog to live).
I’ve bolded the key points for skimmers.
Granted, the manga has it that Ingo just gets brainwashed by Twinrova into being a staunch follower of Ganondorf. That’s not canon, but it’s not informing any of this thinking, either way. 
In the beginning of OoT we meet Talon by waking him up from a nap, and we learn pretty quickly that he’s lazy and often yelled at by his daughter for slacking off like this. Ingo at the ranch confirms again that Talon doesn’t pull his weight around there, and since Malon’s still a child, it’s pretty obvious that Ingo’s settled with the bulk of the work.
Ingo is grumpy, he’s resentful, and he complains a lot. But he does do the work, and you can find him (presumably) in the process of mucking out the stables. 
Let’s examine what he does at the ranch:
Epona really liked that song... Only I could tame that horse... Even Mr. Ingo had a hard time...
Now, Epona is established in game to be a real winner of a horse. She’s fast, she’s smart, she’s got a lovely sorrel coat and white mane that seems to be quite rare or highly prized coloring. The catch is, she is notoriously wild. The only people she tolerates are Malon and Link, due in large part to being soothed by the song Malon’s mother taught her.
Ingo had to really try to crack this horse, which Malon’s observation suggests is unusual. 
Epona is very young when we first see her, so it’s never really revealed if she was caught wild, or bred at the ranch with a very headstrong temperament.
Ingo’s clearly the guy that’s breaking them in, though. The most Talon is doing is... sleeping in with the cuccos. We never see any organisation of the cuccos, in terms of egg collection or poultry farming, but nevertheless, Talon has the much less physical jobs even if he was doing them. His focus seems to be cuccos, deliveries to the castle and book keeping between naps (and to be fair it’s probably a little depression related, given the dead wife).
Malon gives us a cow later on, and she’s got the egg for the crowing cucco that wakes up Talon, so I’d like to assume for simplicity’s sake that even as a kid, Malon was up at dawn most days helping Ingo with the cows and milking them. It’s never really implied that she has amazing skill in dealing with horses, just that Epona has a special connection with her specifically. Other than that, Malon is simply kind and respectful of her animals (though I’ve got no idea how she got that cow to Link’s treehouse and that’s worth investigating). 
Later on, Ingo is also shown to be a competent rider. Enough that he has absolutely no qualms in challenging Link to races for wagers, and was quite confident of his ability to win.
The takeaway is, Ingo is usually VERY GOOD with both caring for and training horses, if not breeding them for the ranch.
That kind of lends to his grumbling, when he is referring to himself as ‘the Great Ingo’ and comparing himself to Talon, who is a ‘bum’. His claim to greatness may not be undeserved, at least in horse circles, and especially if he’s not getting particular credit for it, his bitterness and frustration (alongside envy, exhaustion, and dreams of recognition) would be quite deeply run.
So it seems that his friend and employer is clearly taking some advantage of him, especially after the death of Malon’s mother.
So now, let’s examine his feelings, and how he changes.
The feelings Ingo has about that are pretty textbook for the sort of thing ‘evil takes hold of and twists’, in the Zeldaverse.
Focussing on the game itself, Malon says this as an adult:
Since Ganondorf came, people in the Castle Town have gone, places have been ruined, and monsters are wandering everywhere. Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... Everyone seems to be turning evil...
We do see other characters in Hyrule become influenced by the ‘darkness in their hearts’ as byproduct of Ganondorf’s reign. 
A prominent example of a character who was visibly dissatisfied with their lot, and then notably changes (while praising Ganondorf for what he’d done), is the Castle Guard who is heavily implied to have become the Poe Dealer. Even if by some slim means it’s not the same person, the Poe Dealer does still express that they could not do the work they do without Ganon as King, and that they now benefit from him being in that position and are grateful to him.
The Kakariko Carpenters seem to have given into their fantasies about living among the Gerudo women, and gone out to the Valley and gotten themselves taken prisoner. Following work near the fortress, the team chooses to act on their selfish desires and go for broke, chasing their dreams. They weren’t previously prepared to act upon these fantasies when Link was young, admittedly much milder in their still very prominent obsession, but seven years later, they’re quite happy to risk it all and piss away the stability of their careers (and nearly their lives) at the first opportunity.
Anyway, the trend is, those across Hyrule who are unhappy with their lot before Ganondorf’s coup tend to be ‘corrupted’ by seven years later, and appear to have given in to a twisted version of whatever they most wanted. 
This is noteworthy especially because the language in the game revolves around the Sacred Realm being opened and corrupted, too, by Ganondorf’s unbalanced heart and selfish goals. It is unable to be ‘sealed’ again while Link has the Master Sword. In aLttP, we know there is a mirror like effect to do with the sacred turned dark realm, in which it reflects the hearts of men. 
So it is very reasonable to say, that for OoT in particular, much of this evil influence plaguing the land and preying on the darkness an people’s hearts is a result of the corruption of the Sacred Realm. It is an indirect byproduct of Ganondorf’s acquiring of the Triforce, but not necessarily something he himself does to people on purpose, unlike the brainwashing of Nabooru.
Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... But Dad... He was kicked out of the ranch by Mr. Ingo... If I disobey Mr. Ingo, he will treat the horses so badly...
This explains a lot of the more callous and greedy behaviour that Ingo shows later on, and why it seems to disappear when he is truly humbled by Link. 
Link’s win serves as a reminder of Ingo’s stagnating skill with horses, the very thing that made him feel so deserving of praise and recognition in the first place, in that for everything he now has control of at the ranch, he still cannot control that horse. He has become as much of a bum as Talon ever was, relegating Malon to do all the hard work while Ingo struts around uselessly. He’s even lost his touch with the Horses so much, in his arrogance, that now he has taken up mistreating them and using harsh and abusive methods (according to Malon’s concerns).
The humiliation and shame takes hold, his pride shattering with the loss of Epona-- not only as a valuable asset, but also as the horse he could never truly tame.
The dark feelings he was holding onto are let go of, as he regains a sense of humility, and the corruptive influence upon him dissipates. He even seeks out Talon to bury the hatchet and invite him back to the ranch.
Oh, I have to tell you about Mr. Ingo... He was afraid that the Evil King might find out that Epona had been taken away... It really upset him! But one day, all of a sudden, he went back to being a normal, nice person! Now my dad is coming back...I can't believe it, but peace is returning to this ranch!
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But what about his obsession with Ganondorf in particular?
When the coup happened, Ingo watched the King of the Gerudo unwittingly play out a sort of grand parallel to what Ingo felt should happen on the ranch. To Ingo’s perception, I think Ganondorf was representing an ideal version of Ingo himself. 
A man of the desert, where hard work and grit are as second nature to survive the harsh conditions. A man frustrated with the King of Hyrule’s shit, and forced to swear fealty to him despite being a King himself. A man resplendent with wealth, with fine and flashy clothes and plentiful jewelry.
And perhaps the most important note of all, the Gerudo in OoT? 
They’re horse people. 
They love horses. Ganondorf’s horse is reputed to be a purebred Black Gerudo Stallion, which is obviously a specialty breed, that is fully armoured and as flashy as he is. When the Gerudo cut the bridge leading to the valley, the only way in and out is to have a skilled horse jump the gap. 
They also have a huge horseback archery range, and prowess in the sport is an incredible source of respect amongst the Gerudo, and many of the guards possess bladed polearms suitable for mounted use. From this, it can be assumed that during the recent civil war, Gerudo weapons, war tack and military tactics were probably built around mounted cavalry archers foremost, with a lesser focus on light and heavy cavalry aside (iron knuckle armour springs to mind).
Anyway, Horses are very important to the Gerudo in the era of Ocarina of Time.
So Ganondorf is also unique in the sense that he is the King of a people who value what it is that Ingo does very highly. He, of all people, stands to immediately recognise the knowledge and skill that Ingo possesses in rearing horses.
So this is a man who successfully stages a coup of Hyrule, who clearly inspires Ingo to do much the same of the ranch, and who Ingo also feels is very likely to take his side should he appeal the matter.
And Ganondorf does.
And if that’s not a great compliment to Ingo’s actual skill, I don’t know what is, because Ganondorf is not a man that suffers fools. He’s got a limited patience when it comes to shit that is beneath his notice. Clearly, he recognises that Ingo is indeed the backbone of that ranch-- and the main reason for the quality of its Horses-- and rewards this accordingly.
And for Ingo, being on decent terms with the big scary goth King is a very, very good place to be. But it’s more than that!
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What a guy! Not only did he deliver on Ingo’s long due validation, he gave Ingo everything he’d ever dreamed of having to his name, and the authority to kick Talon to the curb. He gets it! Ganondorf, this great eight foot beacon of freshly sought divine power and topaz-encrusted glory, this absolute unit of a man, this great underdog horse-lover after Ingo’s own heart; he really understands how great Ingo is. Ganondorf is paving the way for people like them! Oh, to rub shoulders wiht such greatness when the rest of Hyrule is scorned. 
Ingo feels seen. The Great Ganondorf made all that thankless time spent shovelling horse shit while Talon slept mean something. The Gerudo appreciate Ingo’s talents.
And all Ingo has to do is keep turning out really good horses, and promise to present the King with his finest.
So Ingo knows he’s in deep shit when he gets cocky and loses Epona to a wager, who at this point, he’s prepared pretty well and sunk a lot of money into on the idea that she’s going to Ganondorf. 
Who he’s probably bragged to about how fast she is.
He lost her to some jerk in tights who’d barely ridden before, too. And then when Ingo tried to cheat him out of the win, the kid jumped the damned fence an in ass-bustingly cool move that really just drove home how excellent and rare Epona was.
One does not promise the King of the Gerudo a fast horse and then fail to deliver, let alone for such a stupid reason.
Honestly, by the end, the man’s just happy to be alive.
Also I’d like to think he and Talon had a much fairer delegation of work and forgave each other, each really learning to appreciate what they have and what’s really important.
how the fuck did the Kokiri leave the forest for this scene anyway, they don’t even have their faries???
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ilikekidsshows · 3 years
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The Marinette and Kagami Sub Arc Breakdown
Okay, it's finally done, the big analysis, where I tackle a topic I've wanted to write for simply because it's a topic I personally find interesting and fun, AKA, The Best Sub Arc in the Entire Series So Far, AKA, How Marinette Proved Without a Shadow of a Doubt that She'd Never Be Like Chloé And We Stan.
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One of the most interesting parts of the Marinette and Kagami rivals to friends sub arc is that it's one of the aspects of the show that directly connects to Marinette's past as a victim of bullying and is, in a way, about her overcoming that past. Not many things in the show remind us of the revelation in 'Origins' that Chloé had been bullying Marinette for years before the show's timeline, especially since Chloé became pretty declawed as a school level threat as the series went on to the degree where I think many people watching forgot that she used to hold a lot more power, and Marinette used to be wary of her.
But, the reason why Marinette being a bully victim is important in her arc with Kagami is this: people who have been victimized don't necessarily recognize it when they're victimizing others, and I believe that Marinette shows signs of this mentality in the show, particularly in season three. I'll illustrate how Marinette's ex-bully victim mindset informed the early stages of her relationship with Kagami and how Marinette overcame her internal biases when it comes to Kagami and her behavior towards Kagami.
In 'Origins', when Alya quotes Majestia's by now immortal line, she also says something that is very much what someone who has been victimized would identify with: "That girl over there is evil, while we are the good people." While Alya was very accurate that she and Marinette are good people, she didn't really know much about Marinette at this point, so she was actually pretty much guessing. The reason why this line is important is because it relies on an assumption that a moral binary exists on the bully-victim scale, instead of these roles being dynamic and socially formed. If you’re a victim of a bully, the bully is evil and you are a Good Person.
Some people who've been systematically victimized think on some level that them being victims means that they can never be instigators, that they're automatically morally pure because the person who victimizes them is the evil one. This is a very typical argument in social justice circles, where a person who is victimized for one thing might say bigoted things about another group and claim that they can't be a bigot because they suffer from bigotry. The simplest example I can give is white women refusing to accept that something they've said about black women could be offensive to black women specifically, because "how could a victim of sexism be racist". Now, what happens between Marinette and Kagami in the show is nowhere near this level of victimization switcheroo, but it still has that false binary in that Marinette thinks that her actions have more moral justification than they actually do.
The interesting thing about how Kagami is introduced is that her future role as a love rival was downplayed in ‘Riposte’. Her Akumatization was because of family issues and the idea that she might be attracted to Adrien came from Marinette's jealous grumblings while she was rescuing him from Riposte (I'm mostly referring to the "She doesn't deserve you" line). Outside of that little bit, 'Riposte' comes across as a pretty standard Victim of the Week episode, instead of setting up a romance sub arc. As such, Marinette already viewing Kagami's Riposte form as a romantic rival serves more as foreshadowing rather than it actually forming their relationship.
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Then we get to 'Frozer'. Marinette doesn't really know much of anything about Kagami at the start of this episode, as we can see in her mental image of Kagami as a cackling mean girl. Because Marinette doesn't really know Kagami at this point, when Adrien tells her he's thinking of asking Kagami out, her mind gives a placeholder mental image of her, seemingly based off of Chloé, another rich girl with a (supposed) crush on Adrien. This is the episode that establishes Kagami as a romantic rival to both the audience and Marinette, and Marinette’s negative mental image of Kagami establishes the idea of this rivalry being antagonistic. However, because this setup happens in Marinette's headscape, it's actually a one-sided antagonism.
Kagami isn't actually antagonistic towards Marinette in 'Frozer', but there is a certain assertiveness and physical presence to her in the episode that Marinette, as a former bully victim, might find imposing. Kagami gets in her personal space, because she's telling Marinette something she's sure Marinette doesn't want the boys to hear, but to Marinette, the body language could have come across as threatening. The way Marinette stares at Kagami throughout the scene with a deer-in-headlights look can indicate more general startlement or a sense of foreboding. And the episode ends with Kagami kissing Adrien on the cheek, establishing her as a threat in Marinette's eyes. From Marinette's view, Kagami's behavior in 'Frozer' confirmed her fears about Kagami, that she was a rich bully.
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This interpretation of Kagami informs a lot of Marinette's actions in 'Animaestro'. Here we see just how much Marinette has started to view Kagami as the new Chloé in her mind. Even when the actual Chloé shows up, Marinette is more ready to side with her than Kagami. And why this happens is because Chloé actually accidentally enforces the idea that, because Marinette is a Good Person, any person who works against her happiness is a bully and a Bad Person. While we could argue that Marinette has no reason to listen to anything Chloé says, we have to remember that Marinette has been lowkey hoping Chloé would become a better person in episodes like 'Antibug' and 'Zombizou'. When they both agree that Kagami has to go, Marinette could have taken it as another sign that Chloé's not all bad, or Marinette could have simply come to the conclusion that Kagami is actually worse than Chloé, and so teaming up with Chloé to take her down is justified.
It's important to note that 'Animaestro' chronologically takes place right after 'Chameleon', another episode where Marinette thinks she's morally justified in practically bullying someone because they're acting in a way she disagrees with. Because Lila was revealed to be able to dish back the same, if not even worse, that Marinette could unleash, Marinette never learned that her behavior at the start of the episode was bullying and therefore bad. Lila "justified" Marinette's actions after the fact because she was actually a bad person all along, so Marinette doesn't need to feel bad about basically harassing her. If Lila had just been someone who fibs for fun, with no malicious intentions, Marinette's behavior would have been completely out of proportion.
This is why the approach Chloé and, by extension, Marinette take against Kagami is so vital. With Chloé hatching a scheme that was so much like one Marinette would put together, the lines between Marinette and Chloé were blurred in this episode. Simply because it was such a convoluted plan might have also been why Marinette didn't seem to realize the implications of what she was trying to accomplish. I mentioned during my liveblog of this episode that Marinette doesn't seem to consider that, since the plan was to publicly humiliate Kagami, the plan working would have meant hurting Kagami really badly. I also pointed out that, because the trap triggered for the wrong target, this fact didn't really register with Marinette completely, since she merely noted that of course Chloé would have a bad plan. The plan was bad because it failed, not because it was morally wrong.
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However, even though we didn't see it happen in the episode itself, what happened at the movie premiere did alter Marinette's perception of Kagami. Most likely it was contrasting Kagami to the actual Chloé and realizing that she had been mistakenly attributing Chloé's traits to Kagami. The change in Marinette's perception is clear in her panic spiral when she realizes Kagami is her partner for the game in 'Ikari Gozen': "She's brilliant, strong, cute!" Marinette would never spell out all of Chloé's better features in such a way, which means her stance on Kagami has moved away from seeing her as The New Chloé.
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Even though Marinette doesn't see Kagami as a bad person at this point anymore, she does still consider her strictly opposition. She refuses to work with her, preferring instead to sabotage her and her chances with Adrien, just this time without the attempted humiliation. This is mostly because Marinette sees Kagami and thinks she has it all: looks, confidence, influence, a connection with Adrien. Marinette is absolutely convinced that if they won the contest, all attention would be on Kagami and she'd be sidelined in favor of her. It's easy to think that a little bit of sabotage is okay when Kagami seems to have such an unfair advantage.
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Unfortunately for Marinette's peace of mind, the point of 'Ikari Gozen' is to dissuade her of the notion that Kagami is fortunate in every way possible. We can see that Marinette thought that sabotaging the game was fine because Kagami had so many advantages because, as soon as she discovers that Kagami is friendless and has no connection to Adrien outside of fencing, she feels very bad for what she was trying to do. Marinette didn't actually want to hurt or upset Kagami. In 'Animaestro', Marinette didn't think about Kagami's feelings at all in relation to how Chloé's scheme might make Kagami feel, but this time she is thinking about them, she simply misjudged them at the start. She thought her purposefully throwing the contest would be a minor setback to Kagami, not what it ended up being: a betrayal by someone she was hoping to befriend.
I noted during my liveblog of this episode that Marinette's relationship with Adrien also started with a misunderstanding where Marinette first saw Adrien in a more negative light before that impression was proven to be false and they became friends. The development in 'Ikari Gozen' mirrors what happens in 'Origins' in that Marinette first has a false impression of Kagami, but is ultimately proven wrong in her assumptions and becomes friends with her. Marinette nominating herself as Kagami's friend even in her phone call with Tomoe suggests that Marinette recognized a similar need for friends in Kagami that she's seen in Adrien.
Marinette has gotten over seeing Kagami as an opponent in 'Desperada', where we see how Marinette reacts to Kagami and Adrien enjoying an inside joke together: she is miserable. Marinette recognizes the similarity between Kagami and Adrien and, rather than making her mad with jealousy, it makes her feel defeated. While Marinette's perception that Kagami was put together and perfect was taken down in 'Ikari Gozen', 'Desperada' shows us that she still thinks she can't measure up against Kagami, although now it's for the reason that she can see the connection between Adrien and Kagami and doesn't think she has what it takes to compete with that.
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'Love Hunter' is the episode where this new sense of insecurity comes to a head. When Marinette's hair falls out of its usual style, it signifies her letting down her guard and enjoying both Kagami and Adrien's company, because Adrien and Kagami are both her friends at this point. However, when Marinette is reminded that there are things that Kagami and Adrien experience that she can't relate to ("It's not every day we can escape from everything they expect from us"), she hastily ties her hair back into the usual twintails, her insecurity forcing her to put her walls back up again.
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Marinette is in emotional turmoil throughout the episode, allowing Adrien and Kagami to have what could constitute as an ice cream date alone at first, only to interrupt Kagami's attempt to kiss Adrien a few minutes later by whisking Kagami away to help solve the Akuma situation. This is why Marinette wanted André to pick the ice cream blend, because she started to project her relationships with Adrien and Kagami onto the ice cream too much. Marinette values her friends' happiness very high, high enough to stand aside when Kagami refers to their similarity as the reason she and Adrien are made for each other. Marinette does respond to Kagami that choices can be hard, so her standing aside is also about Marinette simply not acting at all, either to allow Kagami to go for Adrien unchallenged or to pursue Adrien herself. The choice between Adrien and Kagami was too much for her. Marinette being indecisive is of course a major character flaw I've discussed on this blog repeatedly, so the idea that it might have played a role here too makes sense from my perspective.
So far the Marinette and Kagami arc has been about Marinette learning not to subject other people to the kind of treatment she gets from Chloé, overcoming the temptation to turn into a bully to protect herself, and also making friends along the way. But there is still more ground that can be covered with this immensely interesting relationship. This is actually why I feel we really need to see Kagami and Marinette interacting after Kagami and Adrien break up. Because Marinette still has unresolved feelings about Kagami and not just Adrien after the season three finale.
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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years
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Online dating
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darcy lewis x reader / masterlist
summary; darcy decides to try a dating app, least to say, the guy isn’t anything like his picture. and thus she ditches him, and finds someone else in a hot second / warnings; the oc guys in this fic are dicks, homophobia, darcy being bae, swearing, mentions of sex and cheating, mentions of joy x reader.
he was a polar opposite to what he had portrayed his online self to be, screw the internet! this date was truly tragic, darcy had plenty of things that she could be better using her time for, rather than sitting opposite this oaf, that was licking his unappealing lips, and staring at the waitress when he thought that she didn’t notice.
“huh?” the scientific doctor pulled her phone out, ushering a puzzled expression on her face as she stared at the blank screen. she of course recognised that no one was making any attempts to contact her, but he didn’t know that. “one second.” she held her finger up, bringing the phone to her ear as she blabbered into the speaker that was inherently catching nothing that she was saying.
“slow down jane.” darcy falsely ushered, using her hands to exaggerate the conversation in her head. she put the phone down, a facade of panic elaborating behind her spectacle adorned eyes as she grabbed her belongings in a frenzy, standing upright and out of her seat. “im so sorry, my friend has just hit some guy with her car and she needs some moral support. tonight is going to have to be cut extremely short.”
short was a relief, but the hopeful expression on this dude’s face wasn’t. perhaps it was cruel to leave this guy hanging, and well, she couldn’t blame him for wanting more, she sent him an awkward smile as he began to speak. “we should do this again some time - properly.” darcy wasn’t dumb, she noticed how his eyes sped to the side as the curvy waitress walked by.
“sure...” no, definitely not. darcy was well aware that she was wasting her time with this moron, she didn’t need a man, let alone a dweeb of one. a quick wave was all she bade him as she exited the coffee shop, only to become engrossed in a scene erupting on the local streets. there was a woman, flinging shirts, and a bra within the bundle that looked as though it was not her size, what was she thinking, clearly it wasn’t, at said example of figurative masculinity.
“screw you durkus!” any guy named ‘durkus’ was basically a label confirming that he was a dick. “i don’t need you, nor the next man! i am a well established woman who has done more for this country than you could ever know, you’re dust beneath my feet, a pathetic layer of residue that i want nothing more to brush off.” perhaps she was being harsh, but it sounded like he deserved it.
from the red lipstick, that the woman was not at all sporting, from the random bra that she had flung at her partner, it was a safe bet to assume that he had cheated on her. darcy plodded closer, listening whimsically in, and realising that her life was pretty calm, there were no longer asguardians or dark elves infiltrating her life, nor the work that she had attained to field in.
she had only recently earned herself the title of doctor, and it was frustrating that people would assume that she opted for a profession in a hospital room, or they would forget the professional endorsement all together, and address her as ‘miss lewis’. she was no one’s puppet, she had scaled herself up the ladder of her career to be where she was now, but another thing that she was alongside such a wave of potential was a feminist.
this dick was shouting in the streets, calling her inexplicable names such as a ‘whore’, and a ‘two faced bitch’. having the ability to hear the insults brew anger in her stomach, she couldn’t just stand there. “what are you going to do, turn into a complete lesbian?” now that was the last straw, it had darcy marching over, and promptly she shoved the guy, making him drop all the items that were grasped in the basket of his arms.
a flabbergasted ‘huh’ was riveted from him, and it made darcy smirk as she attuned his attention towards her; the stranger that had gotten involved in his public display of disrespect and homophobia. “how about you watch your damned mouth before i make sure you can’t open it again. and whilst you’re at it, get some new shirts, you’re not a model, unless you’re the kind that are put on prison pamphlets.”
“who the fuck are you?” he spat his saliva on the ground by darcy’s feet, establishing her with the information that her first impression of this dick had been correct. women just knew with this kind of thing, they could sense trouble from a mile away. “you know what, keep that crazy bitch. maybe you can help her store her katanas, and go on double dates with danny rand and his plus one. rather you than me.”
“don’t ask.” the woman shook her head, tired of the drama that durkus always seemed to bring. she had enough trouble, involving work and extracurricular night time activities, without him adding to them. darcy presented her with a sweet smile, picking up the box of random bits and bobs that was on the floor. “that’s just work stuff, i’m moving offices and as i came to collect some things from our apartment, and i found him- well let’s just say he wasn’t alone.”
“that was pretty easy to pick up on. how’d you not realise that you were dating a total sleaze?” she was blunt with her enquiry, though the woman shrugged, a guilty expression cowering upon your features, like an ashamed shadow. a small, attractive smile graced her lips, secrets hidden beneath the span of the expression.
“oh, i knew. i just had to pretend to be happy, so that my ex, or well now, my other ex joy would stop chastising me, claiming that i haven’t got over her. she’s so up her own ass sometimes and it drives me- shit, i’m sorry, you don’t know me, nor do you need to hear about my problems.” the y/h/c haired woman shook her head, stretching her hand out to miss lewis. “i’m y/n, thanks a bunch for helping me out back there.”
darcy accepted her handshake, completing the action as she smiled. “i’m darcy.” this woman didn’t need to know about her doctor title, in fact, darcy was keen on knowing everything about her instead. “so’d how you meet him?” referring to the person that had most recently became y/n’s ex. y/n was relieved that darcy had shown up, she was sure she’d have used her martial art training for more than composition; she’d have kicked durkus’ flat ass.
“on a dating app.” it was a normal answer, she wouldn’t share the intel that before that she had saved his ass whilst wearing a black hood, stopping him from getting mugged in the dead of night. perhaps she should have saved someone else that particular late evening. darcy couldn’t help but let a small laugh out, finding both their circumstances quite amusing. she was sure a similar situation would have unfolded if she had decided to regularly see the date that she ditched.
“online dating man, it sucks, am i right?” it had quite the reputation, for the two of them especially. “maybe we should just date each other.” she joked, though she was being partially serious. it felt right, they had bumped randomly into one another’s faulted situations on the same day, it almost felt like fate, though that subject was too cheesy to say aloud.
“well doctor lewis, i would not at all mind going on a date with you.” darcy frowned at the title that she had been called, pointing at the side of the woman’s jacket, that had a recyclable label stuck upon the material. “so you majored in science, if i am correct?” finally, someone got it! she could get used to that.
y/n did not appear as a deity nor a creature from another realm, she was normal. or so as far as the eye could tell, in fact, she did not suspect a thing from this woman, much less to be a defender of the earth that worked in a small and less know league than the avengers, yet still roamed the us to protect its people.
darcy though had won this battle for her though, giving her a moment of peace from fighting, and had idly sent durkus on his route far away. y/n could get used to not being the hero all the time, more so if this doctor was her knight in shining armour.
138 notes · View notes
mskimkaty · 3 years
Text
URS| J.JH
Tumblr media
Fluff, smut
wc: 5k
synopsis: One thing led to another, and you didn’t meant to fuck up, majorly.
warnings: smut, smut with plot, unprotected sex, manhandling, swearing. 
"Come on. I promise you it will be fun." You rolled your eyes for god knows how many times as you scan through your biology book. You have an essay due tomorrow and you're idiotic of a brother is asking you to come party tomorrow Friday night.
"Oppa, Really. I have so many papers piling up, and I can't afford to slack off. Ask Taeyong or Johnny Oppa or someone! I know for a fact that you have tons of friends, why are you bothering me?" You brush the strands that poke on your forehead and continued with what you're doing, you're one blunt girl but your brother isn't having any of it today. You heard your Doyoung lets out a sigh and you almost dance in victory assuming that he's gonna kiss your head goodbye and let you have the peace you deserve.
"They are going! Don't you want to come? Everyone's coming including your friends." He pleaded once more and your eyes instantly shoot up at him.
Did they just bail on you on a Friday night? You asked yourself— Maybe, They did.
You continued typing on your laptop while scanning the book placed on your right side. "I don't know, Oppa. I have tons to do. But I'll let you k— fine! I'll come! Okay!" You surrender once You saw that he won't back down from talking and You just need your own sweet peaceful time back. Finally, Doyoung kisses the side of your head "It's a deal, Here is your fav, caramel macchiato," He hands you the drink with a shit-grinning smile that makes him a look like a bunny beading you goodbye before reminding you that's it's a settled deal.
Seriously, he won't last a second with you once he spots his brothers from his damn frat house. You decided to call Seulgi and ask if they really are coming and that imbecile brother of yours, practically lied to your face without blinking. But since it's a Friday night, Seulgi decides to ask the others to come.
On Friday night, the others basically made you a living doll, pampering you here and there, applying cosmetics, and choosing an outfit for you.
"You can't do that, Sooyoung-ah! Y/N's very conservative in that area!" Joohyun shouted at Sooyoung for choosing a black off-shoulder that clings on your shapes like a second skin and deeps lowly in your chest area, the material is thick enough to keep you from the cold air but it leaves you with bare shoulders—still, you don't think it's a good idea, It was already getting cold. "Yeah, that's my main purpose. She has the biggest boobs in this room, why not be proud and parade it? Yah, don't be embarrassed by God's gift, a lot of women want big boobs, especially someone like yours, It's not small but it's not that big to look awkward either, plus, women pay loads of money to have that kind of boobs," She stated.
"I can't believe we're talking about my body parts," you muster all the courage not to punch this Unnie for blabbing nonsense but everyone agreed, either way. "Please don't let me wear that," You begged, already hating the idea. "Unnie, that's too low, just one accidental pull and-" you were cut off from talking when Wendy smirks at you. "Who's going to pull your top? Unless if you're going to have a productive night and let someone pull it down, then yes, definitely. You're going to parade your boobs,"
She's in the fashion department together with Sooyoung and nothing or no one is stopping the two of them when it comes to deciding someone's attire and their opinions are always validated especially when it comes to clothes.
"You gotta be kidding me!" You move out of Sooyoung's hold when Seulgi showed you a nipple tape. "Yah! Kim Y/n! stop acting like a Goddamn pre-schooler and use this already!" Sooyoung Shouted grabbing your arms again and caging you using her arms around your neck.
Fuck your life.
Fuck growing up as a conservative chick, it was hard when you grew up with two older brothers, basically growing up wearing varsity shorts and not the colorful skirts like a normal girl would do. You did go with that off-shoulder top pairing it with a white tennis skirt. Totally parading your cleavage and shoulders not to mention the lack of shorts for protection under your skirt making you want to turn back and walk your way out of this goddamn house. "Hey, look guys I have big boobs." Written in your forehead. Seriously, they won't let you live a peaceful life.
Upon arriving at your brother's frat house, you heard someone whistle "If it isn't our baby Y/n!" Yuta hollered when they spotted Sooyoung and you walking in the foyer towards the inside of the house. It was already packed, empty vodka and beer bottles are already scattered at the side of the kitchen, there was a huge container at the center island that contains different kinds of beers placed in a stack of ice cubes. Your mouth watered. You wouldn't mind a good cold beer.
"Cut it out Yuta, She's not a baby anymore," Seulgi retorted already chugging her second bottle down her throat "I know! It's just that it's my first time seeing her with a skirt and not her brother's pants on." Yuta received dirty glances from the others and a hard punch from Jungwoo who hugged you— his baby sister protectively. You felt Jungwoo's knuckles hit you on your head and you pout your lip at him, "Yah, what are you wearing?" he asks you,
"I know I look ridiculous," you say as you rolled your eyes at him. Jungwoo doesn't think that you looked ridiculous, it's just that, he wasn't used to seeing you wearing girl clothes and not the usual ones where he and Doyoung don't need to protect you from prying eyes around.
"Fuck you, That's my sister you're talking about." Doyoung gives him a playful nudge and Yuta only smiles wickedly like a perverted mad man, you were used to him, though. He was just being himself and teasing you. You were thankful, for hyping you up, so you felt a little confident as you grab for a beer after Donghyuck gives you your first shot of tequila for the night, your throat instantly heats up as you take the liquid in, the night is long.
"Yeah, I'll remember this you fucking moron," you joked, probably ignoring him for the rest of the evening, jokingly. "So this is the famous Phi kappa house," Wendy says looking around, spotting Eunwoo in the process from the living room walking towards your group with Jaehyun in tow, walking behind him while holding a beer in his hand and his phone in the other.
You actually don't know him that very well since you're still a freshman, and you just heard he's from the Architecture department, one of your brother's new frat brothers, Sooyoung mounted that Jaehyun was in an exchange program and was originally from the states, you see him for a few times around campus but that was that. You never greeted each other, unlike the others, or even acknowledge one another.
You scan the living room where everyone is getting wasted from every corner of the house. "Where's Johnny by the way?" Irene asked no one in particular scanning the area. "Getting laid," Eunwoo said pulling Wendy to sit on his lap. There was a brief emotion in her eyes that you can't decipher but you ignore it anyway.
"But Mark said he's with him, though?" Seulgi commented while Eunwoo only shrugged. Yuta and Donghyuck handed each one of you your drinks. Another strong scent of vodka makes it way up to your nostrils, your head spins just by smelling it, Sooyoung grimace at the smell, "This is basically; Vodka with a drop of juice in it."
"Watch out, Noona. The Juice is probably for color only." He whispers and she winces more. "Who the fuck even mixed this?" She asks as she took a sip at her drink. Jaehyun laughs at her.
"Jung fucking Jaehyun!! you little shit," She hollered. "Sorry, Noona." he winks at her and you watch the both of them in the sides. You wished socializing was that easy. You hate how awkward you get sometimes.
"Y/n's not good at drinking." You heard your older brother says and you look at him. "It's fine, let the girl cut some slack besides we have tons of people in the group to take care of her later," Johnny says after suddenly appearing at your side with Mark hugging you. "My favorite human being- Girl, What the fuck are you wearing?!" Mark's hands stayed on your waist and Jungwoo watched as Jaehyun's eyes linger on where Mark's hands was placed around you, he only smiled wickedly as he watches his Hyung chug on his bear problematically.
You gather the courage to drink the vodka in just one gulp. The strong taste leaving a trace in your mouth down your throat. It leaves a cool sensation but at the same time drawing a burning line down your throat. You accidentally made a weird sound and you sounded like a drowning piranha. The others only looked at each other and then bursting out laughing after registering the weird sound you made. Donghyuck hugged you after shouting "My Noona, so cute!!" at the top of his lungs while hugging you tightly.
The night went by, the sound booming in the house as you jam to it in the corner with Jungwoo, Mark, and Donghyuck, Jaehyun tagging along. Sipping in your vodka now and then.
"I'm going out, it's too suffocating in here," I blurted clumsily. As I start to walk, you felt Mark's hands in your arms. "Why?" you asked.
"You're drunk. You don't really think I will let you go on your own. In a party- looking like that." Mark says protectively. "Come with me then." You asked. Mark looked in front feeling conflicted, you followed his gaze and you saw him eyeing a girl who was basically eye-fucking him in return. "Suit yourself." You turn to Donghyuck who were busily conversing with another girl in the side. "I can't believe you choose to get your dick wet first rather than keeping your best friend company." you turn to Jaehyun who was looking at you. "I'll come with you, I was thinking of getting a smoke either way," Jungwoo says.
You clumsily withdraw from Mark's grip. "Fine, I'll take my boring of a brother with me then." Mark nodded seemingly unaffected and Jaehyun only laughs at him as he shakes his head.
You decided to hang in the garden area. "Wait- hey," you turned to face him "Just a minute," Jaehyun leaves his bottle behind before grabbing his leather jacket. You stop mid-sentence a big what the hell is written on your face. "You're not my brother. Where the hell is my brother?" you asked your eyes unfocused. Jaehyun put his jacket on, his bubbly facade was completely gone as he turns to you.
"Well, for starters, you drag me here," Jung Jaehyun says "Oh- my bad. You can go back if you'd like." you sit on one of the chairs in the garden. Closing your eyes in the process waiting for him to walk away but you hear the clang of metal and a chair being dragged instead. You opened your eyes knowingly. Jaehyun, sitting in front of you.
"Well, fresh air isn't that bad, either," like you, Jaehyun closes his eyes for a moment, basking in the silence with the soft bass booming in the background "But it's your party, you should go back, Oppa." you watch him for a second but decides to close your eyes again, the fatigue drowning into your body suddenly, hearing you call him that does wonders inside of him, you honestly don't mind calling him that even though you both weren't in terms to have that kind of relationship yet but you consider all your brother's friends who are much older than you a close friend already.
Jaehyun was wearing his usual black t-shirt with his denim ripped jeans, with his white clean snickers making a sound as he tapped on the floor probably jamming to the music from the house. He always wears black shirts, If not black you sometimes see him wearing white, he was so basic when it comes to his clothes but still looks good that it's maddening. Not that you're checking him out on a daily basis, you had eyes, and you always see him everywhere.
"It's my house, but not my party." He says as you continued drinking from the cup you were holding, you tried offering him the cup you were holding and he reached out for it, you watched the way his Adam's apple move in fascination.
You blinked the thoughts away. The drink making you feel hot, "So why did you transfer here?" you tried making small talks just to ignore the unwanted thoughts about him. He smiled and cocks his head to the side, his smile becoming faint as he stares at your drunken state. you can barely keep your eyes open but still sip from the same cup the both of you were sharing.
"Okay, that's enough." He blurted messily. Even he can't form the right words to say. "Enough with the drinking." He added.
"Are you trying to babysit me?" you asked. Dumbfounded. You laughed at the idea. "You haven't answered my question, though." you sit with your legs crossed and you put your forearms on your knees leaning closer to him, Jaehyun sees the deep in your top, your cleavage showing more than intended, skin glistening under the lights, he moved his eyes away from your form, mentally cursing.
"I just needed the scholarship and the University offered one so I took it." He says, that made you confused for a second, "I thought your family is loaded?" you asked. "Were comfortable," he answered you. Disbelief was written on your face "Isn't that what super-rich Asian kids answer with that type of questions?" he laughs at you. "Both my sisters are also a scholar back at home, I had to be a little competitive, it runs in the family."
Damn.
"They do?" you asked. He shifted his gaze everywhere but you. For some reason you wanted his attention on you, there was a sudden change in his demeanor as the mood between the both of you change,  "You're making this hard for me." He says with finality. You tilt Your head to the side. "Then, aren't you going to do something about it ?" you asked laughing. You stood up walking back to the house. He's head moving as his eyes study every move you make, you back up and turn to face him,
"Y/n, I don’t do one night stand,"  He blurted his lips forming a tight line after, Jaehyun walks to you, grabbing you by the waist, you grab at the back of his neck, taking your time and looking at his lips with the same want he gives. "Then, this is our day one."  you say your last words before pulling him for a kiss.
Kissing Jaehyun felt- wet, You felt his arms circle your waist as he hoists you up to cradle him, making you break the kiss. "Won’t you regret this in the morning?" He manages to ask before you dig to taste his lips again. "I still think you’re drunk and will probably regret this in the morning,” He blurted out, you pulled him again lips meeting, “But oppa, that’s not the problem right now, and I really think we should think about that tomorrow.” you convinced him, Jaehyun was having the last bit of patience and he just want to take you to his room and fuck your brain senseless.
This kind of confidence is new to you, though, this wasn't your first time getting laid, it wasn't like you do this normally, either. You still remembered your first time, it was during your senior year, there was this one guy who acts like he swept you off of your feet but doesn't even last 5 minutes into the sex, his dick wasn't small per se, but it wasn't that big either, though, you can't really tell, it's not like you have seen lots of different male sex to compare, you remember it had hurt, and just, hurt in general. He sucked at sex and only minded his own release, penetrating you without getting you wet first. Your mind came back to Jaehyun when he sucks at the skin below your right ear and you shivered at the pleasure. You don't even understand the logic of you kissing Jung Jaehyun when you're not that close. What would Doyoung and Jungwoo think? or how would they even react? "What are you thinking?" Jaehyun broke the kiss once again, feeling that you're somehow distracted. His thumb draws small circles at the inside of your thighs and you cling to him as he walks through the back door to the basement of the house where it was exclusive for the members only. and I'm kissing him.  
Once inside, he put you down, "Just thinking of my brothers," you answered. "Please don't tell me you're going to back out and leave me hot and bothered."
"Of course not." you pull him back down and attached your lips to his, Jaehyun broke the kiss once again and lead you to the stairs up to his room, the lack of people made you look at him questioningly but he just pulls at your hand, Jaehyun opened the door to his room, shoving you against it and kissing you desperately. You moaned at the pain shooting at your back, something flashed in his eyes; realizing how manhandling affects you.
He broke the kiss and study your reaction. "You can't keep doing this to me." He manages to say. You were so ready and wet for him, and he's not even doing anything to you besides kissing you. Jaehyun lowered his head on your neck just where your weak spot is and a soft moan escape from your lips.
You pushed him back as you kiss him, backing up until the both of you fell to the mattress of his bed with you straddling him. Tonight was supposed to be just a normal girl's night out. But, here you are making out with Jung Jaehyun, both of your brother's best mate.
You are so fucked up.
Jaehyun lowered his head and attached his lips to your neck, lapping on it just where your weak spot is as a soft moan escapes from your lips. Jaehyun, he can't even control his urges at this point anymore, seems like keeping his hands off of you would be a problem in the future, the heat in his lower body was already rising as he kissed your slightly parted lips. Your body was a victim of him, your sight getting blurry at the intensity of his kisses. Jaehyun run little kisses down your skin, removing your top in one go, as much as he thinks you look fucking good on it, he wants nothing to do with it.
Jaehyun's breath hitched when he saw your bare chest. You mentally pat your head for going against the nipple tape, it would be fucking embarrassing to get rid of it in this situation. He grabs your breast causing you to flinch, a sigh-like moan escaping your lips, His fingers painlessly kneaded the mounds of your breasts, distorting them erotically in his palm.
Jaehyun find your scent sweet, he was marking you inside his head,
Mine,
He was hooked with intense possessiveness and desire, palming you through your undies, making you ark your back against the bed and rubbing your heat against his hands for much better friction, you were so, so close. The heat in your core being unbearable.
"You keep surprising me with how dirty you are," he murmured against your ears when he realized you were  just wearing your undies without a protective shorts. Jaehyun played with the hem of your panties before ripping them off you. "Let's keep the skirt, I want to fuck you in it."
"You're fucking unbelievable, Oppa. What am I going to wear later?" you ask while heaving, waiting for his next move that he'll do. Jaehyun took one breast into his mouth and sucked on it, his tongue lapped around your stiff bud, biting it lightly before repeating, something hot flowed from your already wet core, making the two of you stop at your ministration, "fuck, fuck, fuck." you chant like a mantra.
Jaehyun couldn't believe that you're coming just from that. Your body was so responsive that the idea got him rock hard in instant. You turn away when Jaehyun strips from his clothes, embarrassed to see him naked so suddenly, his cock springing up, your mouth watering at the sight, Jaehyun grabs at your ankles when you come down from your high, you turning limp but doesn't protest, spreading you apart and positioning his self between your legs. Then, an overwhelming force suddenly pierced through you in one go, moaning at the delicious stretch you felt with being filled by his cock.
You were a moaning mess by now, Your pupils dilated, choosing to breathe as Jaehyun rams at you anomalistically, you felt dizzy by the sudden intense pleasure of being overstimulated, your sensitive walls squeezed tight as if rejecting him,
Jaehyun growled against your skin, "Fuck, baby, loosen up, You're too tight."
One more thrust and Jaehyun already got you spasming around him, Jaehyun grunted lowly. "How obscene, I just put it in and your body likes it so much." your face heat up in embarrassment, body tightening on him causing him to let out a suppressed groan as he comes undone inside you.
You smirk at him, watching his expression as you flex your thighs around him, prolonging his orgasm, his eyes trembled holding down your forearm above your head, "You like it, Oppa?" you asked smugly at him, tired, and being over-stimulated also by him. "How fun," you wrapped your legs around his waist and tightly squeezed where your lower abdomens met.
"Y/n," He growled, seeing your eyes sparkling with mischievousness, Jaehyun's lips curved oddly, deciding to play the game you were playing, he smirked and grab at your thighs, pulling them apart, he pulled out and rammed back inside, hard. You screamed at the pleasure, you know it was the beginning of a fierce-long night of sex that's seemed to never end. Jaehyun's hard erect cock penetrating endlessly through you, tormenting at the same time pleasuring you.
you screamed against him, forgetting the party going downstairs and ignoring the phone chiming down the floor with all the worried text messages from your brothers and Unnies. Halfway through, the two of you lost your senses with how good the fuck is, you falling asleep as fatigue runs through your body after Jaehyun manages to pull four more orgasms in you.
Rays of the sun coming from the outside sipping through the curtained window were hot against your skin, making you come to your senses. You look at the unfamiliar vicinity, every piece of furniture was unfamiliar to you. A big flat-screen television hangs on the wall in front of the bed. You look down to see your clothes lying together with an unknown shirt and pants on the ground.
You moved slightly. Groaning because of the pain you felt. Horror strikes your face when you registered that someone's arm was draped in your bare stomach.
Holy fucking shit
You lifted your head to see someone sleeping beside you. A mop of brown hair greeted you, thinking hard to remember the past events of last night. Flashbacks of last night start to flood in your memory and you mentally slap your face. You wanted to scream your heart out in pure panic and stupidity but that wouldn't be a nice idea. Instead, you slowly lift his arm, got out of the bed, and pick your clothes up, Horrified at your ripped undies.
you ran to the bathroom as quietly as possible. Turning the faucet on as you see your reflection in the mirror. Red marks were all over your neck and chest. What the hell did you do last night? No, why did you do that last night?!
You quickly get dressed. You need to get the hell out of here before he wakes up and asks you questions even you don't know how to answer yourself, worst being rejected straight up and be doomed for the rest of your college life.
You left. Hopefully, without leaving any traces behind. When you got home Wendy was watching the television. Upon entering, she bombards you with questions, asking why you can't be contacted only then you remembered you don't have your phone with you. fuck, way to go on not leaving any traces behind. You borrowed her phone and tried to dial your number.
"Hello?" a man's voice answered the call and you instantly cut the call off. You know it's him. How can you forget the voice of the man screaming your name against your eras last night?
You change into more comfortable clothes after taking a long cold shower, if only you can remove every trace of what happened last night, the evidence is all over your body. It's already 3 in the afternoon, your headache isn't helping with the situation, and you self-pity yourself in your room.
You cried because of your stupidity. Goddamn that alcohol, You swear to never drink again. You heard a knock on your door. Wendy's head pocking from outside. "Can I come inside?" you manage to say a small yes.
"What happened to you?" She asked. You tried to form a suitable lie inside your head but Wendy bit you to it. "The last time I saw you last night was when you were dragging Jaehyun outside and you two never come back inside, again."
in fact, you did, using the back door.
You know you can easily dodge the question but Instead, the guilt it you out of humiliation. "Unnie, can we not talk about this?" you cried. Wendy left after consulting you once more, you were grateful that she didn't push you to talk about it.
The nect day, Jungwoo visited your apartment handing you, your phone back. "Jaehyun Hyung give this to me, says it was yours." you waited for him to ask you questions about your whereabouts but he didn't, still he didn’t let the opportunity slide to make fun of you and Jaehyun.
On Monday you were at a café near the University's entrance when you felt someone sit next to you, you look up from your book to see who it was and after hours and hours of hiding from that person; here he is sitting next to you.
He dared not to look at you, voluntarily pack your things, ready to escape when you heard him say "You know we need to talk things through." you looked at him in horror. Why can't he just let this slide? why does he care so much? I've been ignoring his calls, He probably put his contact number on your phone before Jungwoo came and returned it to you.
"Can we just pretend that it never happened?" you blurted. "That was a one-night thing. We were both drunk. Can't you just let it be? Just thank me for it. I won't add from all the girls you banged and probably want's your support or want something from you." you harshly retort.
"What?" he asked you frowning, both of you looked at each other before he breaks contact and looks away. instantly turning a bright shade of pink. "Just, forget it." you blurted and walk off.
You vented all your anger in your classes, putting all your focus on every subject, by the time you were done with your last subject, you spotted Jung Jaehyun outside your class waiting, both hands in his jean pockets, his hair looks like he'd been running his fingers on it all day, his white t-shirt was clinging to his body, his orange ID lace tells him from the architect department.
You lowered your head, hugging your books closer in your chest, trying your best to walk past him without him seeing you. "Y/n." warm hands grab your left arm, you jolted from his touch as if you were electrified. You reacted by moving away from him, giving him more space than you intended, Jaehyun on the other hand looks angry. This reaction made him think that you were disgusted with what happened between you two, when you're really not, Halting from your steps you stood face to face with him.
"Oppa, what are you doing?" you asked, looking around as he attempts to hold your arm again but you panicked when you saw some curious eyes on both of you and the last thing you wanted was for the student body's attention on you. You jerk from his touch "I told you to drop this." you whispered, walking away from him but being the tall guy that he is, it made no effort for him to walk up beside you. You fasten your pace but to no avail, was useless to him.
"We need to talk," he said as he drags you to the gym, both of them entered the locker room where the lights were off only the lights coming from the outside were your source to see his face.
His face turns into a frown. "Stop taking me as a joke," he blurted. If he thinks you're taking this or him as a joke, he was wrong. You just want this to never happen and you don't want to be one of those girls on the lists that he victimized, you beg to defer. plus, talk about being scared of the rejection, you don't want it happening to you to the point that you started pushing him away.
"Why? Do you think this is a joke for me? I won't waste my time searching or even waiting for you if I think of this as a joke." shocked was evident on your face and he attempts to touch you. "Don't !" I squealed, putting my hands in the air across his face to stop him. "You know, I told you I don’t do one night stand with just anybody.” he says, you racked your head searching for a specific moment and then you remember how you practically throw yourself at him even going to the lengths of saying that night was your first day as a couple. 
"I feel disgusted by myself don't you know that? you want to talk? Fine, I don't want to be rejected, honestly, I'm saving my face from the humiliation, we had sex," you hysterically said. "Just because we were both drunk!"
you breathed some air in your lungs, a dumbfounded Jaehyun in front of you. "Don't look at me like that."
"You don't understand," he said seriously. “Im not taking no as an answer, you brought this up on your ownself.”
"What? don't understand what?" you asked. you ran your fingers through your hair, seriously getting tired of this. both of you were just running in circles. you couldn’t believe Jaehyun was like this, like a lost puppy, looking like a lost puppy, "If you think I don't understand the situation, then don't you think you should elaborate it more for me?" you asked. You both locked eyes, he's obviously thinking, finding the right words to talk you into this. He put his hands in his pockets. "This is different, at least for me," was the only thing he said.
"I don't believe you. and I don't need you to be responsible," you said. "Oppa, Just please forget it," you turn around and walk once again ready to leave him as a handgrip your arm but this time pulling you back harshly to be faced by him again.
You felt yourself collide with his rock hard body, his lips on yours as you tried to focus your eyes on him, you accidentally drop all the books that you have when you felt him put his other hand on the back of your neck, kissing you deeply and pulling you incredibly close, leaving no air to pass through you and him. Stuck in the same position, you did not dare to move.
He reached for your face and deepen the kiss. "What the hell-" you pushed him away but for some reason, your energy leaves the soul out of you.
He slightly nibbles at your lower lip and you automatically responded with the same urge his giving you, knowing this is wrong and that you should probably stop this, but your mind and body won't cooperate and you suddenly remembered the sensation he makes you feel back then, thinking about the situation, kissing in a dark place with only the two of you making lewd noises made you wet down there. A soft moan escapes your lips as his fingers slightly gaze at your skin just underneath your blouse.
"We both know what we want. And obviously, your body doesn't lie," he said, eyes the darkest shade as he gazes down on you with a smirk on his lips.
"Is this how you get to bed girls? because you totally got me."
"No, I'm telling you, I want you. In every way possible."
yeah, short fic for my bub so what :(((
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didanawisgi · 3 years
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Martin Luther King Jr., Guns, and a Book Everyone Should Read
BY JEREMY S. | JAN 15, 2018
“Martin Luther King Jr. would have been 89 years old today, were he not assassinated in 1968. On the third Monday in January we observe MLK Jr. Day and celebrate his achievements in advancing civil rights for African Americans and others. While Dr. King was a big advocate of peaceful assembly and protest, he wasn’t, at least for most of his life, against the use of firearms for self-defense. In fact, he employed them . . .
If it wasn’t for African Americans in the South, primarily, taking up arms almost without exception during the post-Civil War reconstruction and well into the civil rights movement, this country wouldn’t be what it is today.
By force and threat of arms African Americans protected themselves, their families, their homes, and their rights and won the attention and respect of the powers that be. In a lawless, post-Civil War South they stayed alive while faced with, at best, an indifferent government and, at worst, state-sponsored violence against them.
We know the Supreme Court’s Dred Scott decision of 1857 refused to recognize black people as citizens. Heck, they were deemed just three-fifths a person. Not often mentioned in school: some of that was due to gun rights. Namely, not wanting to give gun rights to blacks. Because if they were to recognize blacks as citizens, it…
“…would give to persons of the negro race . . . the right to enter every other State whenever they pleased, . . . and it would give them the full liberty of speech . . . ; to hold public meetings upon political affairs, and to keep and carry arms wherever they went.”
Ahha! So the Second Amendment was considered an individual right, protecting a citizen’s natural, inalienable right to keep and carry arms wherever they go. Then as now, gun control is rooted in racism.
During reconstruction, African Americans were legally citizens but were not always treated as such. Practically every African American home had a shotgun — or shotguns — and they needed it, too. Forget police protection, as those same officials were often in white robes during their time off.
Fast forward to the American civil rights movement and we learn, but again not at school, that Martin Luther King Jr. applied for a concealed carry permit. He (an upstanding minister, mind you) was denied.
Then as in many cases even now, especially in blue states uniquely and ironically so concerned about “fairness,” permitting was subjective (“may issue” rather than “shall issue”). The wealthy and politically connected receive their rights, but the poor, the uneducated, the undesired masses, not so much.
Up until late in his life, MLK Jr. chose to be protected by the Deacons for Defense. Though his home was also apparently a bit of an arsenal.
African Americans won their rights and protected their lives with pervasive firearms ownership. But we don’t learn about this. We don’t know about this. It has been unfortunately whitewashed from our history classes and our discourse.
Hidden, apparently, as part of an agreement (or at least an understanding) reached upon the conclusion of the civil rights movement.
Sure, the government is going to protect you now and help you and give you all of the rights you want, but you have to give up your guns. Turn them in. Create a culture of deference to the government. Be peaceable and non-threatening and harmless. And arm-less, as it were (and vote Democrat). African Americans did turn them in, physically and culturally.
That, at least, is an argument made late in Negroes and the Gun: the Black Tradition of Arms. It’s a fantastic book, teaching primarily through anecdotes of particular African American figures throughout history just how important firearms were to them. I learned so-freaking-much from this novel, and couldn’t recommend it more. If you have any interest in gun rights, civil rights, and/or African American history, it’s an absolute must-read.
Some text I highlighted on my Kindle Paperwhite when I read it in 2014:
But Southern blacks had to navigate the first generation of American arms-control laws, explicitly racist statutes starting as early as Virginia’s 1680 law, barring clubs, guns, or swords to both slaves and free blacks.
“…he who would be free, himself must strike the blow.”
In 1846, white abolitionist congressman Joshua Giddings of Ohio gave a speech on the floor of the House of Representatives, advocating distribution of arms to fugitive slaves.
Civil-rights activist James Forman would comment in the 1960s that blacks in the movement were widely armed and that there was hardly a black home in the South without its shotgun or rifle.
A letter from a teacher at a freedmen’s school in Maryland demonstrates one set of concerns. The letter contains the standard complaints about racist attacks on the school and then describes one strand of the local response. “Both the Mayor and the sheriff have warned the colored people to go armed to school, (which they do) [and] the superintendent of schools came down and brought me a revolver.”
Low black turnout resulted in a Democratic victory in the majority black Republican congressional district.
Other political violence of the Reconstruction era centered on official Negro state militias operating under radical Republican administrations.
“The Winchester rifle deserves a place of honor in every Black home.” So said Ida B. Wells.
Fortune responded with an essay titled “The Stand and Be Shot or Shoot and Stand Policy”: “We have no disposition to fan the coals of race discord,” Thomas explained, “but when colored men are assailed they have a perfect right to stand their ground. If they run away like cowards they will be regarded as inferior and worthy to be shot; but if they stand their ground manfully, and do their own a share of the shooting they will be respected and by doing so they will lessen the propensity of white roughs to incite to riot.”
He used state funds to provide guns and ammunition to people who were under threat of attack.
“Medgar was nonviolent, but he had six guns in the kitchen and living room.”
“The weapons that you have are not to kill people with — killing is wrong. Your guns are to protect your families — to stop them from being killed. Let the Klan ride, but if they try to do wrong against you, stop them. If we’re ever going to win this fight we got to have a clean record. Stay here, my friends, you are needed most here, stay and protect your homes.”
In 2008 and 2010, the NAACP filed amicus briefs to the United States Supreme Court, supporting blanket gun bans in Washington, DC, and Chicago. Losing those arguments, one of the association’s lawyers wrote in a prominent journal that recrafting the constitutional right to arms to allow targeted gun prohibition in black enclaves should be a core plank of the modern civil-rights agenda.
Wilkins viewed the failure to pursue black criminals as overt state malevolence and evidence of an attitude that “there’s one more Negro killed — the more of ’em dead, the less to bother us. Don’t spend too much money running down the killer — he may kill another.”
But it puts things in perspective to note that swimming pool accidents account for more deaths of minors than all forms of death by firearm (accident, homicide, and suicide).
The correlation of very high murder rates with low gun ownership in African American communities simply does not bear out the notion that disarming the populace as a whole will disarm and prevent murder by potential murderers.
Centers for Disease Control (CDC) estimated 1,900,000 annual episodes where someone in the home retrieved a firearm in response to a suspected illegal entry. There were roughly half a million instances where the armed householder confronted and chased off the intruder.
A study of active burglars found that one of the greatest risks faced by residential burglars is being injured or killed by occupants of a targeted dwelling. Many reported that this was their greatest fear and a far greater worry than being caught by police.48 The data bear out the instinct. Home invaders in the United States are more at risk of being shot in the act than of going to prison.49 Because burglars do not know which homes have a gun, people who do not own guns enjoy free-rider benefits because of the deterrent effect of others owning guns. In a survey of convicted felons conducted for the National Institute of Justice, 34 percent of them reported being “scared off, shot at, wounded or captured by an armed victim.” Nearly 40 percent had refrained from attempting a crime because they worried the target was armed. Fifty-six percent said that they would not attack someone they knew was armed and 74 percent agreed that “one reason burglars avoid houses where people are at home is that they fear being shot.”
In the period before Florida adopted its “shall issue” concealed-carry laws, the Orlando Police Department conducted a widely advertised program of firearms training for women. The program was started in response to reports that women in the city were buying guns at an increased rate after an uptick in sexual assaults. The program aimed to help women gun owners become safe and proficient. Over the next year, rape declined by 88 percent. Burglary fell by 25 percent. Nationally these rates were increasing and no other city with a population over 100,000 experienced similar decreases during the period.55 Rape increased by 7 percent nationally and by 5 percent elsewhere in Florida.
As you can see, Negroes and the Gun progresses more or less chronologically, spending the last portion of the book discussing modern-day gun control. It’s an invaluable source of ammunition (if you’ll pardon the expression) against the fallacies of the pro-gun-control platform. It sheds light on a little-known (if not purposefully obfuscated), critical factor in the history of African Americans: firearms.
On this Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I highly recommend you — yes, you — read Negroes and the Gun: the Black Tradition of Arms.
And I’ll wrap this up with a quote in a Huffington Post article given by Maj Toure of Black Guns Matter: 
https://cdn0.thetruthaboutguns.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/huffpo-maj-toure.jpg”
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This is gonna be a flashback chapter. How our babies met because I remember a few people had forgotten. Had to have one of these eventually, right?
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Part 21: Introduction
Should I download Tinder?
Glee plays from the firestick, the scene where they're all walking and singing How Will I Know.
I should.
Laying cozied into the couch in a faded t'shirt with the tiniest pink shorts, your head rests on the butt cushion and your feet dangle over the arm as you hold your phone up in the air over your face.
"How will I know?.. How will I knoow..," you mumble along with the crew. You've heard the Glee version of this Whitney classic at least 8 times.
No, but what if I do and someone recognizes me? Someone I work with? What if my family is on Tinder? I'd die.
You put the phone down on your belly and pick up your apple juice from the coffee table, doing a sit up to sip.
Mm. You wipe your mouth nearly spilling. But if they're on there too then they shouldn't comment on what I'm doing, right? We'd ignore each other's presence and continue like ships passing in the night. So technically I should be able to download this app with no blowback.
Picking the phone up, you hit download and open the app. It immediately asks for your information and won't let you skip. Not even your location. You fall back down to your back raising the phone up again.
But what if someone's a serial killer?Would they look for me? No, that won't happen and I could tell if they were psychotic..
Tapping the download button, you go through the steps to set up an account including giving them access to your location and posting a headshot from a selfie. Scrolling through your gallery for more decent pics to post, you decide one's enough and upload a full body photo so that whoever meets you will know who they're meeting, no surprises.
Inputting your information, you decide to write into your blurb that you're looking for some awesome friends, specifically a movie buddy. In reality, the activity doesn't matter you just crave human attention and closeness. Any decent, polite, nice, smart, funny, left wing, hopefully attractive, young, black human.. possibly male.. will do. Not that you're picky. In the meantime, you swipe right on everyone black nearby, men and women. Somebody's gotta respond. Someone sane who wants to meet. Shockingly there are a lot of pretty people. Unfortunately the app only gives you one super like.. a blue star which you decide to save.
Giddily you head over to your match tab and see four matches. Drew P seems nice. Ashley J looks stylish. G Papa looks like he lives in a Freaknik video. Pussy Hunter is just nasty. Your nose twitches as you shamefully start conversations with all four. When neither responds right away you return to swiping and a notification says you've been super liked, but you can't access who super liked without paying money. You're not doing that so you just go back to the bios and swipe right until you get a reply.
Wyd, Pussy Hunter writes.
Bored, watching movies. You?
You gotta fat ass
Um. Thanks?
Netflix and chill?🙈
Netflix and Netflix. We can talk and hang out..
So no chill
No sex, but we can hang out and do something else
After 5 minutes, you realize he's not going to write you back. You start to swipe again on pictures, left for the whites and weirdos. Right for the black people.
Your finger hovers in the air as you gasp lightly at the thirst trap provided by a man self-identified as Erik. It deserves another sip of apple juice. You gulp it down from your cup. "Jesus.." You can't even see his face, because it's all BODY, but you can tell by the picture exactly what he's on Tinder for. Same m.o. as Pussy Hunter.
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Erik S, 28
Fucc around and find out
Good Lord.. those shorts are yet holding on, you stare as if they'll slip down further by you willing them to. You swipe right. Your eyes widen as the app alerts you with a blue star meaning... He super liked your profile.
"NO," you gasp wide eyed at the phone ready to chuck it at the wall. Switching to the messages, there's a new one.. from him.. and you know what it's about. "I need some tea."
---
Erik lazed around his house bumping Schoolboy Q, clad in a white terry cloth bathrobe with a short glass of iced Ciroc and Lemonade in his hand. Dancing, he exfoliated his face with his spin brush, trimmed his mustache and beard, shaped himself up, and moisturized his locs and facial hair. The lil lip scrub he'd gotten as a gift from Cierra, he'd initially fought her on because it smelled like peaches but he liked how soft it made his lips. They even tasted good. He licked his lips for the umpteenth time tasting sugar. They tasted like Cierra.
Speaking of sugar, he looked at his phone wondering why his hoes ain't called. Then again, they could've. He wasn't near the phone all day. Checking the iPhone on the charging dock he saw that he had a missed call.. from Cierra.
Checking the time she called, he figured that was back when he was cleaning his guns and checking the parts. He'd already cleaned and sharpened his knives. He'd checked his security cameras. He felt good. Having no major responsibility and no place to be.
Outside of the missed call he had three new nudes and a video sitting in his messages to watch and record himself masturbating to. He was looking forward to doing that especially since Rell hadn't called with no bullshit local cases. Erik had stated he ain't want no hits near his temporary home.. for a year, he wanted peace. One damn year. But here he was still racking basic skills for pennies. "Chump change is still change," Rell's voice played in his ear. "You don't wanna get rusty. Gotta keep your skills sharp."
Erik had done his share of moving around, racking up international kills and earning the nickname Killmonger. But for a little while, he wanted to settle down in one concealed location where no one knew where he lived, who the fuck he was, or where he was coming or going. He wanted the illusion of peace and normality for a year at least. As much money as he had, he figured he could afford to stay in one place for that long if he was careful.
Only two people knew where he lived and that was Rell and Swift. They knew not to come over. Not even the previous owners of the house knew he was there.. because he'd made them an anonymous offer, killed them and moved in a few days after they'd sold it to him for cash. Needless to say he took all that money back.
He dialed Cierra, roaming to his bedroom to collapse over the bed as the phone rung. "Sup Ci?"
"Master," she whimpered, the desperation in her voice telling him she needed release. She'd been working too long through the past week and needed Master to come take control for a few hours. He could picture her on her knees, already in puppy space. She knew exactly how he liked her to wait for him.
"Yes, Ci. You need me to come for a scene?"
"Rrrrr," she growled. "Arf arf!"
"My bad. Lil Bitch."
"I gotta go to Target and see my sister," but come through later. I don't care how late just call up."
"Your sister? The one you met on Facebook?"
"Yeah, her! She live like an hour away. I'm a link with her and put her on Tinder! Get her a man to pop that back out," she giggles.
"You know I don't mind a two for one," Erik teased knowing she wouldn't go for it. He liked to mess with her anyway.
"Not with my damn sister, I'm not that nasty. A white girl can have it,"
"Damn crush my dream."
"Anyway!"
"Aight, I'm a let you go." Hanging up, he sat up and went to his closet pulling a colorful glass bong he'd gotten from a nigga he once knew in the military. Bruce Everett, white boy. Cool nigga... Too bad he shot hisself with his own gun. Sighing, Erik shook his head and went to the bathroom to fill it with water and headed back to pull his chrome grinder from his drawer along with a screen, hempwick, and a nug of Dr. Greenthumb's Emdog OG, grinding it down to pack the bowl making it fluff up.
"Perfect," he whispered lighting the bong with the hempwick. He lit the edges of the weed going around in a circle for an even and smooth burn as he stood taking a good long hit. "Shit," he exhaled releasing the smoke. I love bongs.
He looked and the bowl was empty as he'd expected. One hit's all you need when you do it right.
"Tinder...," he played in his mind. He already had a fetlife which was how he'd found his subs. Tinder was something different though. He was curious.
Downloading the app on the phone used almost solely for contact with subs, he went through the process of setting up an account, hesitating to put his info. It was general enough and the shit that was too specific, he could just lie. Still, he wouldn't upload his face.
So all I gotta do is swipe and see everyone in the area, he mused looking at all the faces.
"No.. No.. Nope.. Facially challenged.. The fuck is that?.. Hell nah.. Yes.. Yes.. She cute.. Hell nah.. Yes... No..," he paused looking a little closer at the screen. "Hello... Damn."
Out of curiosity he clicked on the profile. "That ass tho!"
He smirked hitting his super like.
"Shid... You can get the blue like.. Whatever the fuck that mean.." He stared at the picture. She had a juicy looking aro with thick black curls, brown skin, bright almond eyes, and enough ass to feed the needy for months. "Shit, if I was on a deserted island with coconuts and that ass.. that's enough meat for a damn.. shidd.." He chuckled. "Fuck is a super like? I super like yo ass meat..," he chuckled again falling back on his bed. "It mean I'm a break yo shit in thirds and fuck the pieces," he coughed, over his own bullshit.
---
Jumping up, you speedwalk into your kitchen and quickly heat some water in a pot, pulling a red mug and a bag of chamomile and a bag of lemon balm to mix with sugar. Combining it all, you take a sip and stand there staring at the wall before taking it with you back to the couch. "Okay," you sigh picking up the phone to open the Tinder message thread.
Cum talk to me, he says. You stare at the words. Wow, this is so cringy you don't know how to respond. You sit the phone back down taking another sip. You think about ignoring him, but you keep touching the phone, coming back to the message and staring.
Hey, you finally type hesitating at the simplicity before sending.
How are you tonight ? Why you up ?
Bored, lonely, contemplating my existence over Glee and wondering why my high school years were never that damn musical. You sip your tea.
Having a tv party with just lil ol' me. Why are you up?
The fuck kinda life you living. You need me to cum spice shit up for you? 👀
You think you that spicy? 👀
You wanna taste me and see?
Jeez. You flip back to the faceless picture of his body. Lord have mercy.
Don't play with a real one I'll show the fuck up real shit, he writes.
Internally you're screaming. He really thinks you're about to have sex with him. "I can't, oh my god," you sigh bouncing your knee. You hesitate before responding.
You can come, but bring food.
Hell yeah. Then you can be dessert. 😈
What? You turn the screen off and grab your head, your elbows on your knees.
What am I doing. Y/N what are you doing.
No sex nigga, you type before taking it back and staring at the screen perplexed. If you say that, he won't message you back.. If you don't say it, he'll be expecting to get some! You still want him to come through though even if he leaves because you're bored. You just want a little company for a little bit.
Maybe you should get a cat..
Your leg shakes unsure of how to respond and you take another sip of the hot tea mix feeling anything but calm.
Without further delay you just drop your address and hope for the best, wondering if you just signed off on your own murder. Maybe I should've told him to meet me somewhere else in the daytime.
Washing your apple juice cup, you put it away and then throw on some black leggings and rainbow fuzzy socks not wanting to open the door in pink bootyshorts adding onto the wrong message you'd already sent him. You also put a kitchen knife under the sofa cushion for easy access just in case.
40 minutes. You like wings?
Parmesan
🤢 Love yourself, sis. I'm getting a mix.
Oh I see you Mr. Petty Labelle, you smile getting a taste of his personality.
Yep. Finna get some of Ms. Petty's pie 
Uh uh, you smirk.
We nuh ave dat
That right? Guess I'll see for myself when I pull up 👅
He's a whole fool. You set the phone down smiling at the tv. Meanwhile you watch another episode.. actually watching it this time.
Knock knock, he messages and you see it having kept the thread up just in case he had an issue.  Jumping up, you snatch your phone and take a deep breath to steady your nerves. This is the first time you've ever done something like this and you hope it doesn't go badly.
Who's there, you jest messaging back right before you unlock your multiple locks and crack the door. Peeping out, you shut the door automatically throwing your body against it, holding your breath. He's huge! You didn't even look up, you just saw all that muscle like Kangaroo Jack. And why was he all up on the door?!
"Word? You must not want these wings then," he says through the door. You hear plastic rattling dramatically. "That's aight I don't mind eating em by myself."
You crack the door again, peeping out. You hadn't even seen the plastic bag hanging from his hand, you'd shut him out so fast. You reach out to grab it and he pulls it back.
"Aht! This how you treat guests? Door in the face? Snatching bags?" Your eyes roam from his hard chest to the broadness of his shoulder, resting on the sleeve of his charcoal grey Chicago Bulls shirt. Those biceps.
"Look at you undressing me in your mind already. Go ahead, you can touch me," he adds holding his arm forward as if reading your mind.  He talks a lot.
You snatch the bag and put it behind your back a bit, opening the door. Then you look up and your kitty jumps. It's the devil himself. You try to control your surprise but between his sharp narrow chestnut eyes that smirk down, his sculpted nose, and his full pouting lips, you don't know if you want to kiss him, bite him, or climb him. You wanna do all three and more right in the hall.. up against the wall. His hair too, it's a mess of semi-thick locks that point everywhere like Coolio. It's his everything really..
"Y/N.."
Omg. It sounds so good coming from him. This isn't fair.
"Aye..," he waves.
"Hm," you sigh staring at his face.
"You gone let me in?"
"Huh? Oh." You step back quickly and scan him from head to toe as he steps across the threshold. Bulls shirt, black track pants, black sneakers. His shoes are ugly though, the back heel juts out too far. Balenciaga is written in white. Oh.
You look up and see he's looking you up and down too. Oop. Leading the way you take him to the living room and he settles on the couch, his develish eyes on yours. His knees spread wide as he leans back, hips forward.
Silently screaming, you look away and sit the plastic food bag on the table.
You can feel him staring. The air is full of raunchy expectation and you can't say you blame him. You practically encouraged it on the phone.
"You want something to drink," you smile in friendly attempt, risking a glance and it's just as you thought.
"You know exactly what I want."
"To DRINK," you exphasize, ignoring the thump of your heart in your nana as his eyes roll over your hips.
"Mmm... You got Henny?"
"I have apple juice, tea, water.."
"Ciroc?"
Your face screws, Didnt I just-- "I don't drink.."
"Ever?"
You shake your head.
"Damn, Apple Juice."
Taking your sweet time to pour his juice and refill your tea, you re-enter the living room as the Glee cast kicks off another song that he mutes.
"Here ya go."
You give him his cup and feel the chill in your spine as his fingertips brush yours. Unmuting the tv, you sit on the opposite side of the couch, legs crossed, tense and unsure of what to say to him now that he's there.
"You look uncomfortable."
"Me? I'm fine. I was just marathoning Glee before you came," you say handing him the remote, "I've already seen it though."
He hands the remote back. "You seen Menace II Society?"
"I've heard the title!"
"Well pull it up, let's watch it."
Thank God. That's something easy. You fumble through buttons and he starts opening the food as you set up the movie.
---
"Ooh Laurenz Tate he so fine," she smiled sitting up as the movie started. She would be into his ass. Erik rolled his eyes. Wait for it.
"I hate when they do that," she mumbled in response to the Asian woman following them around the store.
"Yeah," he agreed with swig of the juice looking from the tv to her face, watching her reaction. Wait for it.
"Why don't you give my homeboy his change," O-Dog says before walking to the door. "I feel sorry for your mother," the store owner snubs.
Bitch, don't talk about my mama. That part always pissed Erik off.
"What you say about my mama? You feel sorry for who?!" O-Dog shouts. "I don't want any trouble, just get out," the shopowner shouts, backtracking like the bitch nigga he is.
Fuck that, shoot his bitchass, Erik barked in his head. POP. POP POP. POP. POP. There you go! He shot the wife too, meanwhile, the princess jumped in her seat, absorbed in the felony she just observed on screen. Double-homicide.
"He shouldn't have shot them.. Bruh, now the cops gone be looking for him and his friend wasn't even in it but now he's an accomplice."
"You telling me you wouldn't have shot a nigga talkin shit on your mama?" Erik leaned into her space, curious, but she ain't seem to notice.
"No, 'cause they're rude, ugly, and racist but still. You can't kill without consequences."
Erik steeled. She wasn't wrong.
"I'd have shot his ass too," he admitted watching her. She didn't seem to agree. "Should've kept his mouth off his family."
"You close to your family," she asked suddenly.
"Yeah," he lied knowing his people were dead. "...You mind if I get more juice," he pointed to his cup and she took it refilling it.
Fifteen minutes into the movie, she noticed her wing choice wasn't in the selection and Erik kept a poker face having wondered when she'd realize. He'd already started on the barbecue.
"Where's my parmesan," she frowned looking in the boxes.
"They ain't have it," he lied. "Ran out."
"You're such a liar. Now what am I gonna eat," she pouted to his humor.
"Eat the carribean jerk," he nudged the box to her. She eyed it and he felt like a wolf trapping a rabbit, the wings being the bait.
"I ask you for one thing."
"Yeah and? I wasn't finna buy that shit," he chuckled grabbing a jerk wing and biting it, closing his eyes and humming as he chewed to entice her. When he peeked, she was watching his mouth out the corner of her eye as he licked spicy sauce off his thumb. Sliding down in the cushion, she crossed her arms and raised a knee with her fuzzy foot on the couch. Such a damn brat. Ol' hungry ass.
He started to flex the length of his tongue since she was looking but decided against it. He couldn't be too aggressive or she'd spook and he wouldn't get no ass. Why he cared, he couldn't put a finger on other than the fact that she'd become a challenge. This girl would not let him anywhere near her. She was very shy considering she was down for a one night stand. I'm getting the draws, he promised himself right then. How? He just had to make her come to him.
Her nose wrinkled as she picked up a jerk wing, rotating it.
"Girl eat the wing, this ain't rocket science," he fussed watching her bite it.
"It's better than parmesan?" Lie, he dared watching her closely.
She took another bite.. then she attacked the wing and when she licked her fingers, he looked away grabbing another wing and swig of his juice.
"OKAY. SHUT UP." She grabbed another wing chewing through it as he coughed in his elbow hiding his laugh.
"I didn't say anything," he croaked shrugging her off.
"But you smiling and I can hear you thinking."
He couldn't hide the fat grin plastered on his face though he'd tried by looking away. "How you hear me thinking," he squinted watching her collect bones.
"Because I do, you're loud," she stressed.
"How I'm l-"
"SHH!! I'm tryna hear," she whispered. He shook his head watching the corner of her mouth lift and they watched the movie in silence until she reached for another wing and all the jerk were gone. He pushed her another box.
"You all the way over there. Come sit next to me."
"I'm not that far."
"You are. I promise I won't bite you.."
Her eyes rolled.
"Not unless you into that shit," he added patting the cushion beside him. She lifted, barely moving. "You scared?"
"What you mean?" She looked nervous all of a sudden looking anxiously in his eyes. This was gonna be a tough wall to break.
He patted the cushion again, waiting, and she finally moved in closer filling the empty seat beside him. He determined right then not to touch her but to get as close as possible maintaining proximity to get her used to his presence. Draping an arm over the couch behind her, he observed silently as she sat tense for the the next five minutes before relaxing. He had his work cutout.
@soufcakmistress @itsiesha @ju5tp34chy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @blackpantherimagines @blackpinup22 @muse-of-mbaku @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens   @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @purplehairgawdess @indigoxsummers @cccccx1   @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent-blog
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malebodysuittf · 3 years
Text
The Wrapping
In my last story, I wanted to write a dark thriller-ish story with a villainous protagonist, but I wanted this story to be a whole lot more wholesome (though still devious) for the holidays! It’s kind of silly and not as hot tbh, but hopefully it’s kind of fun for someone. It’s been one hell of a year, so here’s to a better 2021. Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays y’all! Stay safe, and make sure no one you’re close to is plotting to suitify you! ;)
edit: Oh crap, I totally forgot to post this yesterday! Here it is though, my message stays the same! 
-----------------------------------------------------
I sighed as I listened to the mundane tapping of fingers on keyboards, nails hitting the desk, pens clicking. Over and over, my head rang with the same sounds throughout the morning. No one who was here wanted to be here. Except perhaps my boss. That piece of shit put us all to work instead of giving us the holidays off. Only reason he might be happy to be here is probably because, if his wife has been hearing any of the rumors regarding his interactions with the female employees of our company, I’m assuming their marriage is disastrous.
I thought I’d be able to relax at home, spend Christmas with my boyfriend, Craig. We’ve been together for a couple of years now, and this was our first year living together. Our first Christmas spent together. The last one, we had both flown home to see our parents, splitting up. 
But of course, my piece of shit boss had called me up. Told me to come in and work...subtly threatened unemployment if I objected. I wanted to quit right  then and there, but money was tight and I knew how much Craig and I could use the cash. I had to break the news to Craig, but he was understanding. He promised that we’d open up presents tonight, or we’d open them up tomorrow if I was too tired. It was heartwarming to hear the support loved one, but made the act of going to work the next day no less grueling. 
“Hey Lance, you get that call from boss too?” I jumped at the sound of my name being called and turned to see my coworker and one of the few friends I’ve made in the office, Trevor. He was a good lookin’ guy, though he only had a frustrated face at the moment. 
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“Yeah. Fucking ridiculous.”
“Right? Sick of this fucking job. Frankly, I’m not even sure what I fucking do at this point,” he joked. A hint of a smile popped up on his face. He slapped me on the arm and got up, heading towards the bathroom. I closed my eyes and imagined what I’ll do with Craig. It was the only thing that could motivate me to keep up with my work. 
----------------------------
Hours later, the sun was setting and an orange hue painted the sky. It was a surprisingly beautiful sunset, considering it was Christmas. I finally finished my work. I watched the tired people around me cleaning up their desks, disgruntled and ready to go home. I glanced over at Trevor’s desk and noted he was still missing...weird. I hadn’t seen him the entire day ever since he left to go to the restroom. I guessed he had wisened up and just left. I sure as hell wish I could afford to...I know Trevor came from a pretty wealthy background. But at least I could finally find some respite with the end of the day approaching. 
Until I saw the secretary walking to my desk. 
She placed her hands on my desk and looked me in the eye, almost remorsefully. 
“Mr. Campbell would like to speak to you.”
My heart sunk as I realized I’ll be spending more time in this shithole instead of celebrating the holidays with my boyfriend. I slumped in my chair and nodded to the secretary. She left me and I cleaned my act up. Surely it must be something quick, right? I couldn’t imagine him calling me in at the end like this for any reason. 
Walking over to Mr. Campbell’s office, I opened the door and saw my dapper boss staring at me intimidatingly. 
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“Hello, Lance. I’m sure this little meeting may come as a surprise. Take a seat, won’t you?” He motioned towards a chair opposite from his desk, while seating himself in a larger one. 
“I know you might be a little confused as to why I called you in. But let me assure it’s nothing bad.” He smiled at me, something I had never seen before on his face. He always looked menacing and unwelcoming. But right in this moment, something seemed different. 
“I just wanted to give you this for being an outstanding part of this office. You’ve always been productive and loyal to this business. You deserve proper compensation. Especially for coming in on Christmas.”
From behind his desk, he pulled out a fairly large box, wrapped in a snowman-covered paper, perhaps the size of my torso, and slid it across the desk. I cautiously took the box, wondering what the catch was. There was no way he decided to just randomly give me this out of kindness or gratefulness. Not Mr. Campbell. This is the abusive boss who makes people work on Christmas, threaten their jobs and their records, and, allegedly, numerous women have quit and spoken up on him firing them if they did not oblige to sexual favors. On top of that, why the hell is he only giving this to me? Still, he was my boss for now, and I had to appeal to him.
“...Er, thanks, Mr. Campbell. I appreciate the gift. I’ll make sure-”
“Why don’t you open it?”
“Right here? Right now?”
“Yes. Open it. I want you to see it.”
Confused, I still obeyed and started to rip the wrapping paper off. I glanced up to give the boss an acknowledging smile as I lifted the lid up. I found a folded up suit and tie, along with pants.
“Clothing, Mr. Campbell?” I tried to feign gratitude with a hesitant smile.
“Keep going.” 
I lifted the clothing and saw an ID on top of a peach colored object. On the ID, I saw a picture of...Trevor. A chill ran across my spine as I felt the peace colored object...it felt like skin. I pulled it out and lo and behold...it was Trevor in the form of a flimsy suit. 
“Is this some kind of...costume?” The thing gave me the creeps, but I couldn’t defy my curiosity. 
“You could say that.”
“Was that...you earlier then?”
A grim glare shot across Mr. Campbell’s face. “No.”
“Then...what did you do to Trevor?” My voice quivered as a ton of horrific scenes ran through my head. 
“It was just an injection. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” He pulled out what looked like pink stickers. “All you do is slap these magic tags on, and he’ll be restored within an hour. Sorry to alarm you.” 
A sigh of relief escaped my mouth, until Mr. Campbell said, “Why don’t you put him on right now?” 
“What? Right here? I don’t even know-”
“Take your clothes off. Stretch open the mouth. You can figure out the rest.” 
Something told me I didn’t have a choice. I laid the suit on the floor and started to pull out of my clothing, tossing it over the chair. I grabbed the Trevor suit and dipped my toes into the mouth. Surprisingly, it was soft and comfortable. I slipped into the legs and did a few test jumps. Mr. Campbell observed closely as the suit matched my form. I squeezed my way into the rest of the suit before pulling the face over my own, before a painful ache rushed through my body. Suddenly, a lifetime of memories flooded my mind. I recalled feeling a prick in the neck before everything went black...I wasn’t exactly sure what to say to Mr. Campbell.
“Is there something you would like me to do with this?” Trevor’s voice escaped my throat! It was like I was him entirely. But why did Mr. Campbell want me in this suit? I was confused on what to do now. I stood there awkwardly, naked with an admittedly sexier body. Mr. Campbell walked around his desk and came up to me.
“Why don’t you unwrap your second present?” He grabbed my crotch, though I immediately relented and backed up.
“I’m sorry Mr. Campbell, but I’ve got a boyfriend, and frankly, this is a little weird...”
“Don’t you want to provide for him?” I gulped, knowing my job was on the line. Craig would understand, he always does.
I started to unbutton Mr. Campbell’s jacket and slid it off of him. The white button-up was already partially open, displaying the man’s hairy chest. Despite how awful my boss was, I confessed I considered him an attractive man. I pulled off the shirt and was down to his pants. I looked at him, unsure if he wanted me to go all the way. He nodded, urging me to take it all off. I unbuckled his belt and slid it out, the pants visibly loosened and slipped down with ease. I looked up for another nod of approval before removing his shoes and socks, smelling the subtle rankness of his feet. Finally, i slipped his underwear down, and a lengthy member dropped in front of me. I examined the man in front of me, up and down. Were these the kind of sexual favors my boss wanted? Was he interested in men? 
“Why don’t you keep going?” 
I raised an eyebrow at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 
“Keep going.” He walked closer to me, sensually looking me in the eye. 
I couldn’t quite grasp what he meant, until he tugged at his cheek, revealing something else inside. I rubbed Mr. Campbell’s face and he closed his eyes, groaning in pleasure. Slowly tracing down his face, I hooked my fingers under his lips and started to stretch the mouth open. I could feel the scruffy facial hair move under my fingers as I tugged at his face, the face distorting as a familiar face was revealed under Mr. Campbell’s face.
“Craig?” I was absolutely speechless as I slipped off the entire face of my boss. The upper half of the face landed in a heap behind him, while the chin lay across his chest. I backed up in shock at the spectacle before me! 
Craig gave me a devious smile and started to rip the skin off of himself. Still using Mr. Campbell’s hands, he grabbed at the mouth around his neck and started to pull. As he did, the skin started to give, and he started to rip it off, like wrapping. Truly like a Christmas gift! The face split in half and he tugged towards his left arm. With a forceful motion, the arm sleeve ripped right off and he tossed it towards onto the desk, the fingers hanging over the side as they flopped around. He continued to rip the other side off as the suit seemingly got shredded. With the torso hanging over his hip, the torn up skinsuit hung onto the cock in pieces, the face hanging by the side while the right hand of the suit laying flatly on the ground. Craig heaved as he pulled the rest of it off violently, further shredding the skin until it lay as a mess on the floor. He picked up it and slung the mangled skinsuit onto the desk.
“Merry Christmas, babe!” He held me by my hips and kissed me.
“Craig, what the hell is this?” 
“I bought us some of these serums, and figured they would make a nice gift. I didn’t originally plan to use it on these guys in specific, but when you got that call and told me about your shitty boss...I figured we could get a bit of revenge. Plus, you’ve told me about Trevor being hot. So I figured, why the hell not?” 
“But what about Mr. Campbell? You ripped him up!”
“Don’t worry, trust me, some tape and those little sticker things he showed...he’ll be back. And he’ll be humbled.”
He went back behind the desk and pulled out a paper and slid it over to me. I skimmed through it...this was a document giving the company to me!
“Oh my God! What the fuck? This is...”
“Yep. I always said you’d make a great leader. And whenever your coworkers come by to hang out with us, you have no clue what they say about you. They’re gonna love you. And Mr. Campbell over here, signed the document. Hopefully, he takes the time off to reimagine himself as a better man. All you gotta do is sign it yourself.” He rolled a pen over and I held it within my hand. I scoured through Trevor’s thoughts, and he had said some of the sweetest things about me, and his conversations with our colleagues suggested that maybe I could be the one  to make this shithole better. I brought the pen to the paper and voila, my signature was on it.
“You get to be the boss now, Lance.” Craig got up and came to embrace me. I was too stunned at everything happening to give him much of a response. “You can make this place so much better next year. But for now, why don’t we enjoy that sexy suit you’re in?” He started to kiss me, and I returned the favor. I pulled back for a second and looked Craig in the eyes.
“This is the best Christmas ever...Why don’t I give you my present now?” I gave him a suggestive look, rubbing up against against him. I pushed him down across the desk and whispered into his ear, “I love you, babe. Merry Christmas.” 
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starglow-xx · 3 years
Text
owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 3)
platonic! yosano akiko x f! reader
type of writing: head canons !!
this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!
tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!
series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.
fandom: bungou stray dogs
content: fluff & platonic stuff but trigger warning!! there may be a sensitive topic for others
*getting grabbed and pulled to an alleyway! alcohol mentioned!*
please remember that yokohama isn’t the friendliest place, especially at night.
previous: part 2 : their beloved president
author’s note: same ages as last time!! (so that means everyone is one year younger than canon; that makes yosano 24)
this one is actually pretty long :0
i got info abt her likes on her wiki page (careful! there’s spoilers!)
and yosano is a queen and no one can tell me otherwise
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the doctor is in the house (quite literally)
going grocery shopping was an okay chore in your opinion
it honestly depended on your mood or whatever kind of shit happens when you go shopping
cause like something always, always happens whenever you go do groceries
sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes it’s just plain weird
one time some weirdo proposed to you in the middle of the store asking for a double suicide
he was good looking you’d admit but it’s not like you’d ever see him again
or so you thought
a n y w a y s
every so often, you’d run out of real person food in your apartment
you mostly survive off all of the leftover bakery treats and ingredients—which works out pretty well actually—but bakery supplies unfortunately also run out quite often
and also unfortunately, one time when both fukuzawa & ranpo took a visit to Sakura’s, fukuzawa argued that “no you can’t live off sweets for the rest of your life”
ranpo was scandalized and scrambled to cover your ears
you guys were at it for a while
in the end you sided with fukuzawa causing ranpo to go off about “betrayal from the people he cared most abt” or smth like that
you guys were okay again after bribing him with sweets :)
for bakery supplies you usually have them delivered bc you order them in large quantities bc ahaha no way were you gonna carry like 15-20 50 pound bags of flour no way
when days like those happen, you close up the bakery early so you aren’t walking home when it’s too dark
you scheduled it to happen every first saturday of the month
on those saturdays, you close at 5 instead of at 8
currently, you were at the grocery store looking for basic cooking ingredients such as proteins, vegetables, fruits, and most importantly, snacks
ranpo’s been rubbing off on you
the sun was starting to set and you were walking home with your two bags of groceries when shit went down
tbh you were kinda expecting it cause your grocery run was peaceful for once
but what you weren’t expecting was a wack-a-do to appear out of goddamn nowhere right when you were opening the side door to get to the staircase up to your apartment
like honestly
let a woman do her own thing
the man who grabbed you tried to covered your mouth so you couldn’t scream but you didn’t exactly make it easy for him
you kicked and thrashed around even using the grocery bags—that were somehow still in your hand—as a weapon and the man struggled but he was still bigger than you and was able to bring you to a nearby alley
he reeked of alcohol and you spotted a wedding band on his left hand
not that you cared about the detail in the moment
you kicked him in the groin and in response he let you go only to fall on broken glass that was in the alley way
using the wall to help yourself up, you grabbed a nearby wooden stick and struck him right on his back
your attacker fell and you immediately turned on your heels to escape only to fall back down on the hard cold ground once again
you lift your face up and look back to see the man holding onto your ankle
grabbing a shard of glass—cutting yourself in the process— you begin to swing it at him only for him to easily grip your wrist and stop you
you get ready try and kick him in the groin again but you’re interrupted as your attacker gets sucker punched and flies to wall
you look up to see your savior and you’re blessed to see a beautiful woman, probably not that much older than you are—she’s probably around ranpo’s age— donning a white long sleeve button up, a matching black necktie, knee length skirt, and gloves, along with tights, red heels, and a pretty butterfly clip in her short black hair
but what you really notice is her eyes
ranpo’s eyes were pretty but you like hers just a bit more
you’ve always liked the color magenta
the pretty lady holds out her hand and you take it graciously and thank her as she helps you up
as that’s happening, your attacker gets himself onto his feet and his groan catches both of your attention
he struggles to stand and the pretty lady simples saunters over to him and delivers an uppercut knocking him out cold
you’re stunned and you breathe out a “thank you” making her turn towards you
she notices the condition you’re in
bleeding scrapes on your hands, arms and legs, small rips in your clothes like your tights, blouse, and skirt, and the ruffled state of your hair and clothing
she asks if you live nearby and you tell her that you own the bakery that’s one or two buildings away
when you tell her that, it clicks in her mind that you must be the bakery girl ranpo’s been talking about and the friend fukuzawa was cat sitting for
it’s been abt two weeks since ranpo and fukuzawa first met you and since then, they’ve seen lucky in the office plenty and the boxes of your signature sweets even more
if those two trust you, she has no reason not to
she smiles at you, holds out her hand for you to shake, and introduces herself as the doctor of the armed detective agency
your eyes widen and you smile back at her shaking her hand
“ah! you must be yosano-sensei then! ranpo-san and fukuzawa-san have talked about you! it’s so nice to meet you! im (l/n) (y/n)!”
“they’ve talked about you too, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you (y/n)”
after that exchange she insisted on bringing you home to treat you wounds which you told her it wasn’t necessary
she gave you a pointed look and that was when you realized what state you were in
you sighed and weakly gave in to which she only grinned at
before leaving the alley she walks over to the unconscious man and pulls out his wallet for some sort of identification and home address as you try to see if there’s any groceries still salvageable
after texting the details to kunikida, yosano turns to you poking around the now ruined grocery bags
she simply rubs your back and tells you that the both of you could go buy more groceries together as she was meaning to get some anyways; she even said she’ll pay for you
you refused obviously but she, unknowingly, used the same tactic fukuzawa used with you
“so you’re saying you don’t need groceries?”
“...”
*cue an eyebrow raise from our resident queen*
“...you agency members don’t like making things easy for me huh.”
you gave in reluctantly and at this point you don’t even know why you try negotiating with them
and that’s only three of them
apparently, she was on the other side of the street on the way to buy groceries for the agency when she noticed different produce items on the other sidewalk leading to the alley and she went to check out what happened
ironically, the way to the grocery store from the agency makes you go past Sakura’s but she didn’t realize it until after the two of you had met
before you know it, the two of you are in your apartment kitchen as she cleans and patches up all of your wounds
as she does so the two of you have a little girl talk
you find it quite comforting bc since you opened up Sakura’s you haven’t really had the chance to connect to many people much less other women
you definitely see yosano as your cool, loving, badass older sister
she thinks you’re adorable and agrees with ranpo’s opinion
yup 
that’s right
the opinion that you’re like a little kid </3
you called it a betrayal and all she did was laugh at you <//3
“awhh that’s really cool yosano-sensei!—MFPH?!?”
*squishing your cheeks the same way ranpo did* “ranpo-san was right (n/n)-chan, your cheeks are squishy!”
“?!”
after that small fiasco, the two of you talked some more and bonded over your love for flowers, japanese sweets, and much more!!
you even made a date to have a girls day to go shopping and eat out!
you’re internally squealing a bit bc it’s been a while since you’ve gone shopping
yosano notices and she giggles behind her hand not saying anything bc she knows you’ll only throw a fit
the two of you came around the topic of ranpo when lucky passed by
lucky quickly warmed up to the doctor and cozied up in her lap
“i wish ranpo-san was able to meet lucky when he came by the first time, but then again, he’d probably throw a tantrum if i don’t pay attention to him for 5 seconds”
she snorted at that and like fukuzawa, she shared stories abt the slightly older male
“ranpo-san doesn’t know how to ride a train?”
“unbelievable right?”
“for someone so intelligent i expected more from him”
“i’ll be telling that to ranpo-san, (n/n)-chan”
“wha—?! yosano-sensei please don’t!”
like ranpo, she’s also a tease </3
but you love her anyway <3
eventually, she finished patching you up and promised to treat you to a new set of clothes when the two of you go out
“you don’t need to lose a good set of clothes just because of a sleazy man (n/n)-chan! you deserve better!”
you were going to argue that the rips in your clothes were fairly small and could easily be fixed—except the tights—but you stopped in your tracks when you remembered that it was practically useless to argue against an ada member
the two of you walked to the grocery store and bought both of your needed supplies—along with some extra goodies—and then she walked you back to your place bc it was already a bit dark out
but even if it wasn’t, she would walk you anyways
besides, if anything happened to you, she’s 1000% positive that ranpo and fukuzawa are gonna flip the fuck out not that she wont cause she most definitely will
speaking of which
you were drinking a bottle of water as the two of made your way back to Sakura’s when all of a sudden
“(y/n) you do realize that i have to tell shachou and ranpo-san about what happened today right?”
you choked on your water
“yosano-sensei you can’t! if you do they’ll freak! they won’t leave me alone for at least two weeks! one if im lucky!”
“exactly the point”
you just accepted your defeat already knowing that you’d lose
but maybe you can simmer down their anger towards the bastard with sweets and lucky
you arrived at Sakura’s shortly after and after bringing groceries in, you packaged a bunch of pastries leftover from today—bc you closed early—and bc you’re well aware that ranpo doesn’t share any of the sweets you send him with
you even gave yosano her own special box filled with goodies she loves, and a thermos of fukuzawa’s favorite, your special hot honey lemon tea
other than the sweets, you prepared lucky to spend the night at fukuzawa’s
you really really hoped that doing these things would make them calm down
you shivered at the thought of what their responses would be
you felt really bad for giving yosano all these things to carry and that you were keeping her very late
she assured you that she was fine and that if someone tried to mess with her she’d kick their ass
and after exchanging numbers, the magenta eyed queen bid you a good night and walked back to the agency with lucky walking by her heels
arriving back at the agency, yosano was greeted with some concerns asking if she was alright bc she came back from her grocery run pretty late
(she usually goes in the mornings but today was pretty busy so she left in the late afternoon but now it was already dark)
she waved off the concerns and plopped a couple boxes of your signature bakery boxes at ranpo’s desk, the one for her at her own, the last few boxes in the kitchen for any other agent or clerk to grab, placed the thermos on the desk fukuzawa was by, and picked up lucky and handed him to the president
the two males were pleased with what yosano had brought them, and pleased that another agency member had the chance to meet you
fukuzawa was rubbing lucky and ranpo already snacking on treats as yosano expected
but here comes the hard part
or maybe it’s gonna amusing who knows
“i met (y/n) today.”
“we could tell.”
in goes another treat in the green eyed man’s mouth
“would you like to know how?”
“you bumped into each other, had girl talk, made plans to go out, went grocery shopping, and you brought me and shachou presents.”
“great job ranpo-san, you’re almost completely correct.”
this caught the attention of basically everyone bc they knew ranpo was never “almost completely correct”
“we ended up meeting bc she got attacked on her way home from grocery shopping, i treated her wounds, then we had girl talk and did all the other stuff”
ranpo and fukuzawa froze right in their tracks
“i sent all the info of the bastard to kunikida”
“kunikida.”
“yes shachou”
“find out everything about that man and bring it to me and ranpo”
“...yes shachou”
“and yosano”
“yes?”
“text (y/n) and tell her that her cat, tea, and pastries aren’t going to work as a bribe”
just as you finished taking a shower you sneezed
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taglist: @hanniejji​ @timeless-tales46​ @realitycanbeajerk (i didn’t know if you wanted to be in the tag list or not but i tried anyway :)
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prettygirlseat · 2 years
Text
Blog Introduction!!!
So I noticed that it’s been a very long time since I introduced myself to new followers and new mutuals! I’ll do a brief introduction and background on my blog and how it came to this point.
Hi! My name is Jennie and I’m a 22 y/o student from the US. I’ve been in tumblr since 2012, and I’ve had various kinds of blogs prior to this one. There are some mutuals I have on this account that I’ve easily had for 4-5 years.
This blog (and the meaning behind this username) stemmed from being a “th*nspo”, ED blog. I have suffered from various eating disorders for nearly half my life, and I started this blog as a comping mechanism during those times. The name “prettygirlseat” is in counteracting & protesting the narrative in the ‘ed community’ about how pretty girls *don’t* eat (i.e another way to fuel starving oneself). I changed my username once I started active recovery, and I can’t bear to part with it. I hold ED recovery very close to my heart, so you’ll often see pro-recovery content from me as well as ED awareness.
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU ARE AN ED/THINSPO ACCOUNT. You will be blocked and it will be very triggering for me so please just don’t follow
Besides that, the content of this blog has evolved as I have, aesthetically and in terms of interests. I want to be very, very clear:
I am:
Pro-recovery (from any illness/disorder/addiction)
Pro-women: all women are women. TERFS can fuck right off, you are unwelcome) — I’m also pro women doing whatever the fuck they want (as long as they aren’t hurting anyone or themselves). There’s obviously more nuance to be added to the conversation around choice feminism, bimbofication, etc., and women don’t exist in a vacuum. Women and girls on tumblr especially have a somewhat accessible opportunity to get groomed by older men who pose as our friends. This is the internet. Until you meet someone in person (and often not even then), no one is your actual friend. PLEASE for the love of god do not disclose personal or sensitive information to just anyone. Also fuck diet culture.
Pro-sex: sex between informed and consenting adults is good and healthy. I think we should be aware of and sometimes critical of the things we enjoy in the bedroom, including the influences from society on the way we view sex. This includes the patriarchy, p*dophilia, etc. Sometimes abusers hide behind the guise of sex/BDSM/kink; when that happens it’s wrong and should be called out. P*dophilia and grooming are unfortunately everywhere, and you never know what someone could do behind closed doors. “MAPS” is not real and is nothing but a disgusting excuse for perversion. I am also pro-sex workers. Sex work is real work, and fuck Tumblr @staff for censoring content created by ADULTS for adults.
actively learning to be anti-racist. I am a white woman from lower middle class America, therefore I will never understand the struggles of black women, indigenous women, and women of color. I am a cisgendered woman, so I will never understand the struggles of trans people. I am a member of the LGBTQ+ community, floating somewhere between pansexual and demisexual. I like men, i like women, i like attractive people. I’m also spiritual, but I am ethically against the Catholic Church and shaming methods used by other major religions. I think anti-semitism is gross and dangerous and incredibly covert. Islamaphobia is also gross and shitty; let people practice their religions in peace. Ableism. Look it up. It’s everywhere and people with disabilities/chronic illnesses deserve happy and safe lives like everyone else.
Someone who thinks “dark humor” is gross. Incel culture is fucking weird and I actively will block anyone who I interpret to be an incel or a neon*zi. White supremacy is disgusting and needs to be called out every time.
Now that we got my non-negotiables out of the way, here are some things I enjoy:
Reading
Writing (I’m actively writing an adult novel… we’ll see how it goes lol)
Being in nature. Nature heals. Get out for some sunlight or at least fresh air
Naps
Breakfast food (of the sweet variety preferably)
The color green 🐸🌱🥬💚
The color pink 🌸🧘🏼‍♀️🩰🎀💖
Mediterranean aesthetic
Classical music
Rom-coms from the 2000s-2010s
Sports
Fashion
Music (hozier, twsift, the lumineers, Fleetwood Mac, Frank ocean, jhene aiko, early 2000s)
If you took the time to even browse this post, thank you. I want to express my gratitude for all my mutuals, especially the ones that have been around for a very long time (you know who you are <33). If you want to be friends, please just message me! ****if you message me on some fuck shit or you’re a weirdo porn bot, the message will be deleted and you’ll probably be blocked****. I may make another blog in the near future dedicated to just adult-ish content that I don’t really wanna post on main, so I’ll let you guys know if anyone wants to follow!
You’re all the best, and if you’re struggling with food, please remember: you deserve to eat. Food is not earned and it’s not a punishment either. I love you and I wish you recovery. 🤍🤍
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