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#give them some ugly characters!!!! as a treat!!!
bittersweetsage · 27 days
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sometimes the ppl in this fandom annoy me so much bc it’s always white ppl who write characters a certain way or do certain pairings a certain way and then defend it with “im allowed to do what i want this is fanfiction it shouldn’t be censored i can write this racist/sexist/otherwise problematic thing if i want to” which is absolutely true but do you want to do that? like you’re allowed to be a murderer too (well not legally but technically nothing is stopping you) but do you want to do that? do you know what i mean??? like there’s nobody stopping you from glorifying racists and blood supremacists and their actions. there’s nothing stopping you from shipping oppressors with the people they oppress. but why would you want to do that?
#idk sometimes i just look at things and go… you do realise you don’t live in a vacuum#you do realise your actions actually do have real world consequences and by publishing things you’re are agreeing to the social contract of#having to take *some* responsibility for your actions in exchange for interacting with ppl#and also just like in general what does it say about you as a person that you’re so willing to withhold racist structures or sexist#uphold**#structures or whatever without reflecting on them(or reflecting on them and simply not caring?)#like i would also have a lot less of a problem with this if it wasn’t always about conventionally pretty people#you KNOW they don’t treat the ‘ugly’ characters like this#you know they wouldn’t call it sexy if those characters did those things#this is obviously not about ppl who write nuanced stories and characters#obviously even evil racists have lives and interests and loves etc etc#it is a disservice to everyone to make them one dimensional#bc it gives us this way of being able to write off anything those characters do bc they’re a specific way#and evil can take many faces#that’s not what annoys me#it’s the other thing#the one where they not only glorify/make certain characters and their evilness sexy#but they look down on other ppl who disagree/think we don’t see something that they do bc they’re so much more enlightened#trust me bestie you as a white girl (gn) simping over nazis and murders is in no way groundbreaking#and looking down on ppl who have actually had to experience racism/whatever other ism it might be isn’t as cool and quirky as you seem to#think it is#some of us live with the real life consequences of the glorification of those things#again: you don’t exist in a vacuum and being irresponsible about your writing or how you talk about specific ppl or things is going to echo#throughout the internet and stick with someone#you may not actively be harmful but you’re upholding the oppressive structures in our society and promoting them by doing these things#okay i think i’ve finished ranting now#where’s that tweet about cher tiring herself out#that’s me rn
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TXF season 9 works great if you take it as a spinoff following Doggett and Monica and ignore the mytharc (which is, in fact, the way I watch that season), but if you take any of the mytharc or Jump the Shark into account, it sucks in the worst way possible
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babytrapperdiaz · 2 years
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#see i'll say this.#of all this bullshit and ugliness i've seen today and in the past like.. week? i really need people to understand some simple concepts#about treating others with the same courtesy you would wish for yourself.#saying 'i didn't know it was [bigoted insert]' or 'why are you attacking me' when people express distaste for something that#you. YOU. decided was ok. to disrespect korean culture. to turn a black man into a caricature. to make a brown man a rapist.#to turn every. single. one. of the bipoc men in the main cast into abusers to prop up white characters as both victims and saviors.#all of these are racist epithets. a couple of them are egregiously homophobic. and You decided to do that.#you sat down at your computer and typed the shit out. read it back five times and decided yeah. this makes sense#i hate to break it to you but that's very racist and very homophobic! you 'didn't know'. yes the fuck you did.#if it wasn't with intent. not liking chim for the same reasons you love bobby and buck' or 'michael isn't like this in canon but-'#or one of the other 50000 ways you all just 'decide' you don't like these characters for characteristics the share with yt characters?#when each season has an actual character who's villainous and could easily be written into that spot and you could just.. leave them out.#that's unconscious bias babe. you're caveman brain is telling you Asian Man Bad Black Man Worse Brown Man UGH and you are listening.#so when people get mad at you in this Free Soeech having online space for saying people who look like them deserve bad things..#and you get your feelings hurt. ask yourself. who started this? and when you come to the conclusion that it was infact YOU.#learn. apologize. fix your dumbass fic or delete it i don't give a fuck. and then do better.#do not cry sheep when YOU. are not that. and do not expect anyone's time for a lesson on human decency
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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
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Just Friends (König x F!Reader)
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How to Make Friends 1/4 (Word count 5.4 k)
Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.
Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.
A/N: AU where König (sadly) isn't a colonel and doesn't have a t-shirt as a hood but an... actual hood. Please heed the tags lovelies 🩷
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
No one sees a cleaning lady.
Cleaners are invisible. People remember them only when their desks start to gather dust, when their floors are full of mud. No one sees her except the tallest guy in the building: the guy who everybody seems to ignore, just like they ignore her.
It doesn't take long to see why. He's different, and not just because of the mask he's wearing.
She sees him playing with knives. He throws them in the air leisurely, catches them by the handle, and never misses the catch. He flicks them from side to side, spins and whirls the blades in motions she can't even see because they're so swift.
It's pure magic. And they're not dull training knives; they're sharp as a razor, vicious, tactical – but that doesn't make them ugly. They're quite stunning, and she's caught staring more than once.
His movements are not what she'd exactly call precise and fluid. They're urgent, antsy, made to relieve stress of some sort. He's stimming with the knives. Alleviating pain or frustration. The rest of his body is still; only the ice-blue eyes flicker on the blade as he focuses all his attention on the dance. Sometimes he just stares at them, turns them around as if checking the edge, as if it wasn't evident that they're deadly and sharp. That's how she knows he takes good care of the things he loves.
He's fascinated by them, just like she is. And it's not just the knives; she's fascinated by him.
Others cast side eyes, nervous looks at him. Even some of his fellow operators look at the man like he's a lunatic. And perhaps he is, but she can't help it.
She's mesmerized.
It all changes when she accidentally walks into a meeting room while there is a briefing going on. Apparently, no one considers her a threat or a potential spy because she is summoned in before she rushes to close the door, and so she goes on about her day while the soldiers are already wrapping things up.
The hooded giant is there too, leaning back in a chair too small for him, this time playing with a butterfly knife. It's the smallest, daintiest thing she has yet seen in those hands. He always has gloves on, but that doesn't make the flashy flipping look any less dangerous.
She starts by dusting the side tables so she is not in the way. This time, she vehemently does not want to be seen. Save perhaps by the knife maniac.
The man even helps her with cleaning: he picks up some of the objects he can reach so she can wipe the surface more easily. It makes her cheeks grow hot, but she cannot bring herself to thank him. She doesn't dare to make a single sound while there is a meeting going on and their captain is still speaking, but she gives her thanks through her eyes and her smile, and the man looks at her like she's some kind of saintly sight.
The look in those blue eyes is starstruck. Almost… obsessive.
It should send ice to her stomach. But it doesn't.
He continues showing off with the knife as she moves to the other side of the room. He does it to mess with her head or entertain her, delight her, perhaps - the man already knows she’s intrigued by his vast collection of blades.
It's a bit creepy. The man as a whole is a bit creepy, but she only feels a rush, a high that turns her monotonous work day into a thrill.
"König. Would you mind?"
The sound of the flicking blade stops, and she is possibly the only one in this room who misses the noise.
"Entschuldigung."
He speaks, and the voice sends ripples across her scalp. It's twisted and amused, as if the man gets off on annoying the shit out of his workmates.
"English, please..."
"My apologies."
The blade is tucked somewhere in his pocket and the man named König leans forward on the table. Slightly hunched over like that, he looks even more intimidating than before. The playfulness is gone, and he looks fiercely professional. More shivers are sent down her spine.
König…
König is the reason she still keeps working in this odd little compound, the base of some special operations unit that requires an insane amount of security checks and secret contracts and confidentiality agreements just so she can clean the floors from their soddy footprints.
König is the reason she starts to put on some mascara in the morning, tie her hair in a high ponytail, or braid it in two little braids so she would appear cuter if she happens to pass him by in the hallway. He's the reason she opens not one but two buttons of her blouse before she starts the day. He's also the reason her underwear is soaked in the middle of a boring shift.
He appears in her break room to borrow coffee. And not once, but twice during the same week.
"You're running low again?"
"Eh… Ja."
He's shit at lying, though. She is relatively sure by now that he's here only because he wants to see her.
"I'll bring it back. I mean–I'll buy you some."
He seems a bit shy, like her, and combined with the fact that he still chooses to seek her out already gives her sleepless nights. It makes her far more confident than she has ever been with people.
His accent, his voice, are pure fire. She feels sinful for thinking about how he would behave in the bedroom, how he would talk – after all, it already sounds like he's breathless and strained, already sounds like he's working her open with whatever monster is hidden in those pants a bit too small for him. He walks with a wide lounge, and she just knows it's because he is so big down there.
"You do that," she gives him a particularly flirty smile and revels in how it makes him even more distraught. It's quite fascinating how the same man can exude barely repressed bloodlust one moment and stupefied silence the next.
He returns the very next day to bring her a package of coffee. The same brand he borrowed twice already is set on the table in front of her with tense shoulders. She has seen the man relaxed only when he’s achieved that alluring flow state with his knives.
"Hier."
"Why thank you."
He simply stands there, switches weight from one foot to the other, and shrugs.
"I'll be going then."
But he doesn’t leave. Not right away. He watches her with that icy, burning stare, and she cocks her head.
“Bye,” she chimes with a soft smile – the guy is simply too cute. His restless twitching stops; he freezes where he stands, blinks – and then turns and walks out the door like a robot.
. . . . .
She's not supposed to be here. Or, she is, but he's not.
No one’s supposed to be here when there's the sign on the door. The men's showers are supposed to be cleared once a week for good scrubbing, and she only has 30 minutes to do that. It's once a week, less than an hour, there's a sign, and still, some jerk has to walk right through it.
No one sees a cleaning lady.
No one appears to even care about the fucking sign.
But then she sees who exactly has disrespected her humble position. It's a shock to see that familiar black hood with two eye holes on it thrown on the bench. Next to that, the khaki-colored cargo pants, a black shirt, and those gloves, all in a heap – this guy is not the most orderly, perhaps.
And she takes a fucking peek inside the showers because the door is, for some unfathomable reason, transparent, see-through glass.
The first thing she sees is muscle. Just wet, powerful cords of muscle slapped on the tallest man she has ever seen or would probably ever see.
He's a vision: godly, almost. Then she notices what he's doing.
Of course he has to be fucking fapping on top of everything.
Her throat is dry and her hands are numb as she watches how he leans on the tiles with one hand and works himself with the other. The body hair on the guy is so pale that he basically looks neatly shaved, save for the short hair on the top of his head – the man's nothing but sleek, dripping muscle through and through.
He sounds weak when he's masturbating; the noise that echoes in the showers consists mainly of frail, high-pitched grunts.
She's wet in no time, and it doesn't help that he looks frantic, almost violent, while jerking off. It's a sloppy frenzy, and the sounds of wet, angry slapping make her heart beat so fast that the rush of blood in her ears nearly drowns the noise.
The man has big hands, but his cock still looks massive inside one. She knows she will copy-paste the image of that long cock, slick with water and soap, in her mind over and over again while releasing some tension herself. Of course it's big because he's big, but the length of it is simply outrageous – she cannot comprehend how he can fit himself in his pants, even when soft.
His whole upper body tenses abruptly, like a huge cord of cable; he throws his head back, his hips jerk forward and he goes catatonic – the cum shot that follows would shoot a meter away if it wasn't stopped by the wall. The spurts of his load are equally as fierce as the fap, and she feels faint.
And why the fuck is she even standing here in the first place?
And then he…
He drops his head, turns a little to the side, like he’s known she has been here the whole time.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck-
She can only see his eyes from behind the arm still leaning on the wall. That heated glare is not furious, but nor is it benevolent: it's simply pure, manic lust.
She turns and rushes from the locker room like she has just seen a monster.
. . . . .
"Hey."
If he's here for coffee or for her, she doesn't know. Or, perhaps she does, but she's also so unbelievably ashamed and embarrassed that perhaps it's no surprise that he seeks her out in the break room since she has avoided him everywhere else for two days.
"Hi."
Her weak voice is followed by silence, and she doesn't turn, even when she knows he's still behind her. Something in the air, some part of atavistic instinct tells her he's standing right behind her.
"You here for more coffee?"
He still doesn't say anything, and she begins to freak out.
"König… I'm–God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have–"
"Did you like what you saw?"
Her heart shoots up her throat, and her stomach churns, almost starts to eat itself from the pure terror. But it's nothing compared to what he says next.
"I was thinking of you," the calm voice reaches her ears like a tall wave, making her even more woozy than she was in the men's showers.
"I'm– sorry, what?"
"Your mouth… Breasts. If you're tight."
She finally turns, doesn't even try to conceal her horror tinged with incomprehensible, strange lust.
"Jesus…"
The ice between them is broken, but at what cost – and the anxiety she had mistaken for cuteness reveals something psychotic underneath. He still looks at her with the same stare, even when she tries to make it clear that this approach makes her want to vomit. He doesn't move, only towers over her like a hulking shade, and she darts from the break room, completely soaked and on the verge of tears.
. . . . .
There's a knock on her door the next morning, so early that she wonders who the hell could be up at this hour other than staff. It's like… five-thirty. She's so sleepy that she doesn't quite think it through as she throws only a t-shirt on before strolling to the door.
What the f-
König shoves the flowers almost in her face as she opens the door, and she has to yank her head back. All the sleep is gone in an instant, and she curses in her mind that she's standing here in only a tight t-shirt and a black pair of panties.
"I'm sorry. Please, accept my apology," he says like a poorly rehearsed actor while watching her thighs and what's between them. Her nipples shoot up, and not from cold.
"Uh… sure," she tries to sound neutral while accepting the flowers, if not his apology. He takes a step back after making sure she has truly taken the gift, and she instinctively lowers the bouquet down to shield herself from his searing gaze. She knows she's a hypocrite, having masturbated at the memory of him last night. Twice.
He has his hood on, and wears the eternal black shirt, padded gloves and some cargo pants, but there’s also an overload of gear on him. Pouches and pads and wires and ammo - she even catches a grenade or two. There’s a gun strapped to his thigh, and the shoulder pads make his already broad shoulders look even more wide. He looks so… tactical, so in his element that her instincts tell her it wouldn’t do shit to slam the door in his face and retreat back to the safety of her room. This soldier would just barge through the plywood.
And where did this guy get flowers at this hour of the day? No florist can possibly be open. Then she notices they're not exactly the kind of flowers she has seen at a shop.
Has he picked them from outside…?
"I thought you liked me."
His explanation makes her heart melt a little. He's so straightforward, so utterly without any charades or roles, that it makes her feel like she's the one who has disrespected him with her games. After all, she has done nothing but flirted 24/7 with the poor man for the last week. Of course he only thought she was interested.
"I do. I do like you."
His eyes light up with uncontained hunger. "Can I come in?"
Nope. Big mistake.
"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Ok. I'll be going then."
He turns on his heels and is ready to go like nothing ever happened.
“Wha-… König, please, wait.”
He halts on command, turns back, looks at her solemnly. The only thing that gives his confusion away are his eyes, which flicker from her puzzled stare to her mouth, occasionally to the bouquet covering her nether areas.
"Could we just be friends?" She offers him rather desperately.
He merely shrugs.
"Never had any friends."
For some reason, this guy has already started to live rent-free inside her head. She simply can't get him out. And she's intrigued, even when the sanest option would be to stay away from a creepy lunatic like him.
"I can be your friend."
Fuck, what did I just say, what the fuck did I just–
"Sure. Why not," he says immediately. "You just want to be friends?"
She resists the urge to facepalm right then and there in front of him. The guy is not only socially awkward: he's in a state of denial.
Some of his friends – or at least, teammates – pass them by. Kyle, if she remembers correctly, and a Scottish man they call Soap. They both smile at her kindly. It's the first time these men have ever paid her any attention; actually, this is probably the only occasion anyone pays attention to König either. They are both suddenly visible.
"Hey König, don't go harassing our cleaning lady. We got a plane to catch."
König stares somewhere behind her as Soap speaks. His eyes are covered with glass, and she knows that look all too well. The tallest man in the building is dissociating while the two soldiers march by behind him with raised eyebrows and pursed lips: a mocking gesture only she can see.
She watches the scene with an odd pity. It appears they step into existence only when they're together – an unfamiliar setting and an odd couple, the object of ridicule for people who probably claim themselves to be normal.
"I think it would be best, yes," she whispers when the hall is quiet again. She has to start her day soon, and he has a plane to catch - no one else is awake except one hard-working woman and a few operators about to leave on an early mission. She feels the strangest sorrow as she realizes that he wanted to drop by with some flowers and his apology before leaving some place he might never return.
The man gives her a last once-over before taking his leave. He nods slowly, never breaking their gaze: an odd, gentlemanly move.
"Just friends, then."
. . . . .
It is the hottest day yet, and the guy walks around with his black hood even then.
Her new friend.
She's outside, trying to catch some fresh air and sunlight after spending another 8 hours inside a buzzing facility, and somehow, some way, the tall enigma of a man always finds her.
He angles his walk towards her as if he only happened to pass by at the same time she was lounging against the wall and looking at clouds drifting in the sky. In truth, she has an odd, yawning suspicion that she is being stalked nowadays. One of her underwear has gone missing, and she's wretched because her first thought upon finding it gone was the solid assumption that he had stolen them. Which further meant that the man had broken into her room.
But there's also flowers. Every morning when she opens her door, there's a single flower awaiting her. Sometimes, two or three, and not from a store, but from outside, from nature.
He's courting her, and she feels stupidly like a little princess because of those homely yet thoughtful gifts. She doesn't throw them away: they gather on her table, on her window sill, in a little water glass on her bedside table.
She's far too kind, that's what people always say, but she's also neck-deep into this goddamn creep at this point to do anything about it. The building is full of muscled men, men who are decent, and she chooses this… gift-bearing perv to crush on. In her judgment system, she's basically asking for it at this point.
"How are you?"
His accent lingers in the air between them, and she can't help it: it always brings a rush of heat on her cheeks and a rush of wetness down below when she hears him speak.
"I'm good. Just… good. How about you?"
"Sehr gut."
Perhaps the underwear has simply gone missing while washing laundry: it's not unusual when at least 20 people share one washing machine.
And they're only friends. Friends don't steal each other's underwear. Friends ask how they have been, how their day's gone.
"You look nice."
But the summer sun pales in comparison with the heat of that stare. Friends might compliment each other, but they don't look at each other like that.
She feels grungy enough while cleaning, not to mention in the bland, saggy clothes she has to wear every morning, so it can't be a surprise that she likes to put on an effort after the day is done. The citrus-yellow dress she has this afternoon catches his attention like she's a whole circus in town.
"You always look like an angel," he elaborates further, and she has to prevent herself from taking support from the wall upon hearing his compliment.
"Oh.. Thanks," she smiles, and he answers it: the faint creases around narrowing eyes are enough proof of that. "It's so hot… Do you ever take the hood off?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you take it off before bed?"
Oh god.
That sounded weird. She meant to ask if he took it off before sleeping.
Well, 'before bed', 'before sleeping'… What's the difference, really?
Still, he reads into it like a hawk for a seemingly socially graceless case.
"Depends if I'm alone or not," he says. Definitely thinks she's flirting with him again. Talk about sending mixed messages…
Friends, friends. We're just friends.
"Where are you from, by the way? Are you German?"
"No. Austrian."
"Oh. It must be beautiful there at this time of year."
"It is. I would still trade all of Austria for you," he says without any clumsiness, even though the pickup line is awful, one of the worst she has heard – and god, still, those big hands, that fire and ice stare makes her feel high as a kite. The image of him plowing her with the same pace he fucked his hand won't leave her alone.
"König… Just friends," she warns while feeling how another pair of panties is already ruined. She's so wet it's not even funny anymore; it makes her annoyed.
"Ok."
He says ok, but she knows he won't yield. She’s been far too kind for far too long and won't be losing this guy's interest anytime soon.
"How's work?" She tries to patiently show him how to be fricking friends, even if one party is constantly undressing the other with their eyes. As if she's not doing the same…
"You really want to know?"
"Sure."
"Had to scrub intestines from my shoes all night," he says casually. She can only blink and watch how completely distanced and indifferent he seems about something so sick.
"Everything's a mess when you use a knife," he explains further.
"Uh... I'm sure it is."
"Do you regret that you asked?"
"No. Well, perhaps a little."
He crosses his arms over his chest and looks proud; only seems pleased with himself for succeeding in scaring her even more.
"That's why I scrub guts and you scrub floors."
"I guess so," she agrees to his ever-authentic way of saying things how they are. He's a soldier: she can’t change that fact no matter how he or she puts it. Decent guys did the exact same things he did; they just didn't go around telling shy girls about the gory details of their work.
"Do you like knives?"
Nor did they ask things like this. They would ask if she wanted to go see a movie or have a lovely dinner that would end in a kiss and an exchange of phone numbers.
"Um. Yes, I think they're beautiful."
Her response causes a short, deafening silence, a few blinks. The wind catches his mask, but it never rises: she notices he's not only undressing her body, but also her soul with those eyes. Patient, like he knows all her secrets and loves them already.
"What would it take to be more than friends?"
His sudden change of subject is almost as shocking as the devil-may-care account of his work. She is feeling unusually wild; the warm weather and the yellow hues covering the distant horizons make her want to lie down on the grass and pull him on top of her. She thinks of him sliding up the fabric of her cutesy dress, thinks of him opening his pants to get that huge cock out and force it inside.
"Well… You could… Ask me out, for starters?"
"What if you come to my room and I'll show you something," he offers instantly.
As nice and naive as she may be, she's sure the only thing he wants to show her is his cock. Which she has already seen, technically speaking. Which she would like to see again, heaven forbid.
She is slightly breathless and wonders if the heat on her cheeks is visible, if her lips are a bit fuller than usual from her thoughts. Perhaps that's why she resorts to a counteroffer as if she's bargaining here. As if she can't say no.
"Uh.. How about you come and pick me up for dinner this eve–"
"Ok."
He nods with full-blown promise in his eyes and leaves right away, a little too content, and she realizes she has made the worst mistake of her entire life. She will never get a man of his size out of her room if she lets him in and things go awry.
In a hurried decision, she decides she will simply leave him blue-balled at the door. She simply won't go to dinner; she certainly won't let him in. She doesn't have to, even if and when she has to watch him mope for the rest of the year.
She will tell him they're not friends, they're nothing anymore, and that's just it.
She goes, determined and her mind set, to shower, only to notice that she's more soaked than the pool of soap water gathering at her feet. Her body simply betrays her at every turn. Perhaps she should masturbate, just in case, so she won't be weak-willed when he arrives at her door this evening. Yes, that's a brilliant idea, one of the rare good ones she’s had these past few days.
“Jesus–"
By the time she enters her room, wet and throbbing, he's already there.
"How did you get in?"
He shrugs his shoulders like he always does.
"You asked me to visit you."
He doesn't even answer her question about him breaking into her fucking room. He's standing right next to her dresser and a bra she had thrown on one of the open drawers, and she knows right then and there that he's the panty thief.
"Yeah, but… I thought you'd knock or something."
"Sorry."
If you shrug I swear I’m going to…
"Where do you wish to go?"
He's standing there like a contrapposto statue, narrow hips deliciously tilted and with an obvious erection in his pants. He doesn't seem to feel ashamed about it, and it makes her even more wet.
She has a murderous giant in her room, a killer who's visibly turned on by the sight of her underwear, perhaps the lingering scent of her perfume, too… and he's asking where she wishes to go eat tonight so he might have a chance to bang her afterward.
"Do you like Chinese?"
He shrugs as an answer, and she sighs.
"I need to change. Could you turn around?"
The eyes behind the hood regard her with curiosity, but the man does as he is bid. She takes out a floral dress and a more comfortable bra and walks further away to the bed to change. König faces the wall while she gets undressed with trembling hands. She’s sure the man will turn around, march to her, and simply have his way with her before she gets the dress on. Some sick part of her even yearns for it.
But he doesn't. Instead, his head tilts a little to the side, and his hand rises to gently brush the lace of her bra while she's in the most vulnerable position she's ever been with this man. It's an almost equal violation of her privacy as it would've been to turn, but her tongue is tied. And she only now notices he's not wearing gloves.
König is caressing her underwear with no fabric whatsoever between his skin and her chastity, and it makes her breath grow heavy like they're living in the 18th century.
"All set," she says, voice tight, and he lowers his hand and turns as if he has done nothing wrong.
The evening, however, goes far better than she had hoped. Or feared.
He buys them dinner, drinks one beer. They even have a perfectly healthy, civil conversation. She helps herself to a bit of wine to calm her nerves, and they discuss what their dreams used to be before they landed the jobs they currently have.
He reveals he wanted to be a sniper and that he prefers to work alone, but to her question on what went wrong with all that, he merely answers he was 'too clumsy.'
What the man is really trying to say is that he's simply too big. Detectable, loud, and tall.
He hints at being bullied at school and in the army, and she feels even more sorry for him, curses in her mind – if the guy's tactic is to get a girl by being a hot loner with a tragic tale of woe, it sure is working for him.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asks when there's still tension between them, tension that should have melted by now.
"A bit, yeah."
"Is it because of the hood?"
His voice is softer, and she realizes that he's really trying: trying to tone down whatever beast rages inside him, trying his all to be normal instead of some tormented madman.
"No, not exactly," she confesses and feels a sting in her heart when he looks defeated. She almost feels like a bully, too. She wants to take the guy in her arms and shush him to sleep so he would wake up less haunted. But that's not how this goes: she cannot fix him, and even if she could, she has no right to.
He takes her back to the base and stands at her door again. The halls have fallen silent, everyone's asleep at this hour, and her heart is still hammering in her chest.
"Are we still just friends?" He stares at her from the darkness of the hood, shoulders slightly hunched, trying to make himself appear smaller. Less intimidating.
"I…I guess so."
"You think I'm weird, don't you."
His next question is more of a statement. And all she wants to say is no, even if it's a lie. The guy is… not evil; it's just that he certainly isn't sane and sound, either.
"Um… I… Uh-"
"You're the one who watched me in the showers," he points out as if they're keeping score on who's more of a perv.
"Yeah. I guess I'm the weirdo here," she laughs nervously, then almost bites her tongue. He only cocks his head a little to the side and repeats his earlier question.
"Did you like what you saw?"
"Well… yes, ok? I did. Why else would I–"
"It's ok. I understand. I don't mind."
"Well, it was still rude of me to do that." She guides her gaze to the floor, then up at his polar stare that makes her want to swoon in the hopes that he will catch her. "Didn't you notice the sign on the door?"
"I did," he said, and the corners of his eyes slowly gather a few wrinkles. Smiling again.
She shakes her head slowly, scoldingly, and notices how that smile only deepens under the hood. Then his face – or what little can be seen of it – straightens.
"Am I harassing you?"
Wow. Well, at least the poor guy is trying to self-reflect. But something tells her there's more than some new-found awareness of his late behavior at work here.
There's bitterness... Exclusion.
Loneliness.
"No," she tries to comfort him. Another facepalm moment: she is basically telling a stalker she likes being stalked. That this sort of wacko shit was approved of. So this is what it has come to… Years of being invisible apparently did things like this to people.
"Or maybe a bit," she says as a spineless afterthought.
"Do you want me to stop?"
In all honesty, she is drunk on his attention. The obsessive behavior, the relentless wooing, romantic gestures accompanied by a stare that says he wants to plow her until she is a limp heap on a bed stained with tears and cum.
"König… Are you lonely?"
He shrugs, and she wants to grab him. Shake him.
"Are you?" He says with an unusually deep voice.
"...Yes."
Her voice is as fragile as can be, but the hall echoes her confession like it's a loud song. The eyes under the hood look at her softly, longingly: she hasn't even noticed how soft they can sometimes be.
"You don't have to be."
There's simply no use in denying it: she wants this guy to fuck her, no matter how creepy or weird he is.
She grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him inside.
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daisygirlwrites · 1 year
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Task Force 141 + Reader (Callsign-Crash): friendship headcanons
a/n: Hello hello! Just some random headcanons that I had written down for Crash and her relationships with the members of the 141 team. Nothing romantic, just some wholesome stuff.
original gif by @collinnmckinley
also, this is really freaking long, sorry in advance. enjoy reading! 
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Before getting thrown out the window and getting her callsign, she was quiet and shy around the group. Opting to listen to others conversations, rarely adding to it.
Honestly intimidated with how tightly knit the team is, and given her previous team’s history, she was scared to get close.
Volunteered to be the DD whenever the group goes out to a bar. Fortunately, most of the time, Ghost is sober(enough) to help her get everyone into the car and into their rooms
Would silently comfort Soap and Gaz whenever they threw up, rubbing their backs and getting them water.
In the mornings after, she got everyone a breakfast burrito. Soap and Gaz are eternally grateful. Got a little information about her when they asked why she got them food. “Help with my hangovers during college.” Soap and Gaz gave each other a look as she walks away
After the window incident, Crash becomes a lot more open. Seeing how they treat her as if she has been with them for years, it wasn’t fair to them with how closed off she was.
Soap:
He talks to you a lot and you don’t mind. He just comes out and starts rambling on whatever he has interested him at that moment. You don’t really say anything, just sitting there awkwardly (because why would he want to talk to the newbie instead of his friends) but nodding to what he says anyways. One time though, he looks at you and says “Thanks for listening to me. It’s nice to have someone not tell me to ‘Shut the fuck up Mactavish.’”
Literally you after he tells you this:
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“you’re my friend now. we’re having soft tacos later” vibes
Would send him memes and funny videos whenever you guys are on leave
His contact name on your phone is “Bubbles”
Would show you how to make bombs out of random shit. Set them off in bare fields or abandon buildings. Had a couple close calls
Will let you call him Johnny but you call him Mac instead.
“Aww, why not, lassie?”
“I’d rather not get my ass beat by your boyfriend.”
Calls you Lassie along with your callsign. When he wants to piss you off, he calls you Mini Ghost or Little Ghost
Like Ghost, you rarely take off your balaclava and tactical glasses
“The mask, take it off.”
“Nah, I don’t wanna.”
“You ugly?”
“Not as ugly as you old man.”
Has yet to seen you drunk though and he intends to get you there some day
Holds his hand when he’s throwing up
You would use him as a pillow during rides back to the base
The first person to tell him about any drama that’s happening in your life
Gives you advice about men
"Men are stupid, trust me, I am one."
Loves it when you would go on ramblings about the things you like. Anime confuses the hell out of him but he would always ask you about the plot and your favorite characters. He’d ask you about the current artist you listen to and has a list of recommendations from you so he could look them up when he gets home
After a mission gone wrong and believing that it was his fault, you seek him out, finding him sitting alone in the meeting room. You tell him
“It’s going to be okay. I trust you, John.”
He tears up and you wrap your arms around him.
Gaz:
With you two being the youngest, you bond over similar experiences
Sometimes share exactly one brain cell with each other. Sometimes you, Gaz and Soap share a brain cell
Brings out the chaotic gen z energy of each other
Your guys’ energy:
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Follows each other on social media and would send each other tiktoks at ungodly hours
Kind of have a competition against each other to see who’s Price’s favorite child is
Gaz finally has someone who he can talk about anime with
Favorite shows to watch together: Cowboy Bebop, Samurai Champloo  and Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure
Similar music taste. The whole team listens to Queen, David Bowie, Pink Floyd and a few more others. However, Gaz and Crash have the same love of rap and indie pop. Anything they find on tiktok will be added to their shared Spotify playlist.
Gaz would ask about how college was like. He thought about going but ultimately for him, the military was the better option
“Were you part of a sorority?”
“Oh hell no. Loved going to the parties though. Always had top shelf vodka.”
“Really? Thought students couldn’t afford it.”
“When it comes to alcohol, we find a way.”
Share the same sentiment of feeling like they’re not doing enough in the team. After a particularly rough mission, you two would find a corner and just sit together in silence.
Would break the silence by quoting something from vine or tiktok and all things would be okay again
Price:
He has adoption papers ready
Crash, despite your name, is polite, respectful and responsible. Would always help Price clean up after meetings and briefs
Same with Soap, you would listen quietly to Price’s war stories and even his favorite fishing trips
Saw in your file about what happened to your old team and captain. Vows to never pull the same stunt as them
Sadden to see how you’re so young and has seen and dealt with many things already. It breaks his heart that there’s more that you’ll experience. 
You, Soap and Gaz would do dumb shit all the time but you knew when it was the right time to bail. Of course, they would snitch on you to Price. You’d rarely get in trouble though
Basically you two:
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Would gift him cigars from the countries you’d visit during leave
Also a matching set of torch lighters. His has a special green flame while yours is pink. 
You don’t smoke anymore but you would hangout with him and help him finish reports together.
Price often thinks about a life where he didn’t join the military. A life of normalcy. To go to a home filled with life. 
Would have loved to have kids and technically, he still can but his job makes it almost impossible. 
But with Gaz and now you, you two are his pride and joy.
Would be the “hip” dad and will always ask about the new slang and memes
“This food is-what you kids call it...uh, busting!”
You and Gaz look at each other, “It’s bussin’.”
“This food is bussin’!”
Ghost:
Did not to want to get close to you at all. 
Was honestly peeved when Price told him that he was going to mentor you
“I don’t want to play babysitter, Captain.”
Surprised to see how short you were. All of the rumors and information he was told, they never mention your size
At first, he hated how you would follow him around like a lost puppy. 
“Leave me alone, go bother Soap or something.”
Doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in your eyes but you turn around anyways.
Before you joined, he, Price and Laswell were all sitting in Price’s office, his phone on speaker. He was reading over your file before Price’s contact said
“She reminds me of Ghost when I worked with him seven years ago.”
He looks up from the folder, Price’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Laswell nodding.
“I think we’ll have her transferred to us,” Price replies.
Hates to admit but he’s impressed. Thought the rumors was bullshit but you proved him wrong, time and time again
You still have a lot of things to learn and even more practice to do but he believes in you
Does not go easy. He’s merciless. Has put you down countless times and reprimanded you more. You would always leave training sessions with a new bruise. The rest of the team gets concerned with his training methods.
But you still get up and you blink away the tears whenever he shouts at you
At about five months after you joined, on a mission, you spot an enemy behind him before he does and without a word, you quickly take your knife out and throw it towards the man behind him. 
He opens his mouth to yell at you but he sees the enemy on the corner of his eye and watch him slump down. Your knife stuck in his bleeding neck
Gives you a nod after that. Pulling out your knife and handing it back to you
Knife throwing would be one of the training sessions you’d do. It was also a good time for some small chat
Finds out that you’re also a part of the “Dead Mom, Shitty Dad” club
It takes a year for him to SLIGHTLY open up to you
Told you about one of his favorite dishes his mom made and his favorite Queen song was ‘You’re My Best Friend’
Even told you how he likes his Earl Grey prepared
It scares him of how much you remind him of his mom and brother. You have her kindness and his determination. He will never tell you this
You, along with the team, become the very thing he cares about and will protect you to the best of his ability.
Bonus:
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fatphobiabusters · 27 days
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"I don't believe that fat people deserve basic human needs like love, food, or clothes. I think fat people are automatically ugly because I grew up only seeing thin people treated as beautiful in media and society. Because fat people aren't fuckable to me, I tell them to kill themselves and call them ob*se pigs. Which reminds me, the term the medical field uses for fat people, I actually treat it as a slur. I also treat the word 'fat,' the most basic term for a specific human body type, as a taboo insult that you should never, ever call someone. Unless you want to call them ugly or worthless, which I treat 'fat' as a synonym for. I give fat disabled people judging looks because how dare any fat people be disabled. I think fat people should be forced to pay more taxes and to park as far away from a building as possible to force these fat asses to walk. There's countless insulting euphemisms for fat people: fat ass, lard ass, butter ball, diabetty. Oh, that reminds me! I also believe I know the medical records of all fat people and use that to call the over 2 billion fat people on this Earth the dirt underneath my feet. I associate different diseases with fat people, who I hate, so I also put stigma on those diseases. I think it's okay for fat people to pay extra for clothing despite me being a size medium and not having to pay more than people who wear a size extra small. I mock fat people for dancing, walking, running, eating, exercising, swimming, existing, and even breathing! Literally! I laugh when a fat person breathes heavy for even a single second after they walk up a flight of stairs! I support and buy all of the diet culture products that make money off of fat people being viewed as scum. I once saw a fat person on the news talking about how she was enduring food insecurity, and I laughed for a full minute because obviously that fat woman is nothing but the stereotypes I support about fat people and actually overeats. I secretly have a thing for fat women, but I would never dare actually date a fat woman or be with a fat woman in public. That's why I fuck her in private and then pretend she doesn't exist. Whenever I create a character and want to make people know that the character is bad in some way, I make the character fat. I help bully fat people whenever I can. I not only make jokes when fat people die, I also assume every fat person died because they're fat and tell random fat strangers on the internet that they're going to die at age 35. I freely harass fat people because I know not a single person on this Earth will defend them from me, not even progressive people. But no, fat people definitely aren't oppressed. Stop kidding."
How every fatphobic asshole sounds when they tell me fat people aren't oppressed.
-Mod Worthy
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unhinged-transmasc · 1 year
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"If you go on T you won't look like a pretty anime boy, you're gonna look like an ugly man!" is so funny because I'm SE Asian, have been on T for 3 years with subtle (but satisfactory) changes, and definitely still have been told I look like an anime boy or a K-pop idol (because racism.) I do like to take care of my appearance and make an effort to look nice and stylish, but that's not a "pretty anime boy" or "K-pop idol" thing, I'm just A Guy who wants to look nice and pretty and cool. It's such an odd statement cause from my perspective it definitely does not consider the experience I described above, LMAO. It's assuming a "little white girl who doesn't know any better and likes anime" person, or something like that. (Just putting this out there because transmascs of color definitely need to be heard more, and transitioning on T experiences are all very very different.)
And anyways, the condescending way people talk down to trans men who do want to look like their cute/pretty fictional men transition goals is so weird... Like, what's wrong with that, anyways? Some fictional guys are really designed nicely, and may give new perspective on masculinity or maleness that people IRL may not show depending on where you live. Anyways, I think even if T changes you to be more masculine than you expected, you can still present in a way inspired by characters and styles you admire if you so like.
And the other side -- what's wrong with looking like an "ugly" man? I feel like that's saying any masculine trait is "ugly," so if you think that please reevaluate yourself. Looking more like a man Is Kind Of The Entire Point. Many transmascs will embrace that masculinity, and that's not anything bad, wrong, or poisonous. If you think it makes them look uglier or more like a predator or enemy, I want you to know that is not a very kind mindset to have toward transgender people, or to any man in general; it's rather in poor taste, and shows you are not an ally to transgender people. So if you do desire to be an ally, I urge you to reevaluate yourself and challenge yourself on what being a "man" entails, what being "masculine" entails. Because it's not inherently immorality or ugliness, it's just a gender.
This framing of masculinization as something to be warned against, that we don't know what we're getting into is not very cool, definitely ignoring we have our own agency and choices and feelings about our bodies. Like, when we go on T, often we know what it will do to us, and what kind of person we are gender-wise. We're making that choice for ourselves, absurd that we're treated like we don't know any better. We know. Don't treat it like a warning that we'll become less desirable types of people.
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kingdomoftyto · 8 months
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I'm crying laughing, the DVDs are even worse than I remember... Season 1's menus are silent with a single static jpg of the same key character art they use for everything else, and the episodes on the Season 2 discs don't even match what's listed on the box! Absolutely stunning lack of shits given. Truly unparalleled. But I really shouldn't be surprised given... well... everything about how this series has been treated since the very beginning.
Time for a quick ~✨PHANDOM HISTORY LESSON✨~ to give newer/less hyperfixated folks more context for why the graphic novel being as great as it is is such a HUGE deal:
Danny Phantom was one of Nickelodeon's MAIN cartoons, in its time. It was a central pillar. One of the top three or four of their lineup, which is saying something when the competition includes the cultural juggernaut that is Spongebob.
Despite this, and despite its superhero theming making it perfectly marketable, it got basically ZERO official merch.
What little we did get was often ugly and very, very cheap. The dedication at the start of the graphic novel that jokes about collecting the Burger King toys? That's because it was some of the most notable merch the franchise EVER had. (I sadly do not have any of it. There was no BK in my hometown. Here's a pic from the internet, though, to give you an idea.)
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If you think I'm exaggerating about that being the most significant physical merch to come out of the series, consider that the first video game had an entire menu option specifically for the Burger King promotional tie-in:
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That video game, by the way, was one of only two ever based on the show. The first was an adaptation of "The Ultimate Enemy" in the style of a short sidescrolling beat-em-up, and the second was themed around "Urban Jungle" and (as far as I can tell--I've only played the first couple levels) was an arcade-style scrolling shooter. Both were for the Gameboy Advance, and both are...... fine, as far as cash-grabby video game tie-ins to kids' shows go. This was pretty normal for the time, so I suppose we did okay in that department, actually. They're not GOOD, but they're playable and have at least a bit of effort put into them.
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But besides those two video games (plus a handful of simple, long-defunct Flash games on nick.com)? In the decade and a half since the show ended?
Nothing.
No books, no games, no comics, no web shorts--unless you count mega-crossovers with every other Nicktoon (a la Nicktoons Unite), or soulless promotional material like "Fairly Odd Phantom" (which, trust me, despite being the first new DP animation in over 10 years was not even worth the effort of watching).
...I think there was a limited edition FunkoPop once?
So yeah.
A Glitch in Time is not just the first cool, well-made thing we've seen from the franchise in a while. It's the first THING we've seen since the show. PERIOD. And arguably the first worthwhile supplementary material to EVER come out of the show, depending on how you feel about those GBA games and the Nicktoons crossovers.
This franchise is widely beloved even now, almost 20 years after it first aired, and it feels like that fact is now, finally, FINALLY getting some official recognition.
PLEASE read A Glitch in Time. Tell other people about it. The series--no, the fans--deserve this (and more of this, if the folks in charge see enough of a response and decide to grace us with any followup). It's LONG overdue, but better late than never.
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cerastes · 2 months
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I think Laios succeeds as good autistic representation in the same way Hikigaya (Oregairu) succeeds as good depression representation in that they are made genuinely and affectionately with a focus on showing the real pit falls that come with it (with Laios' journey not being about "beating it" because it's not a vile thing to beat in the first place and it's not even an explicit thing, while Hikigaya's journey is very much about moving past it not by being thrust into a magical depression-curing manic pixie dream girl, but rather, giving him people he cares about so much and that he has to acknowledge care so much about him that he takes the extremely difficult first step forward by his own will) as overall parts of a greater narrative.
The emphasis here should be the sincerity and affection it's done with, a combination of both: I don't condemn things written with escapism in mind, "comfort reads", if you will, sometimes that's what people want to write and want to read, no greater journey, just Please Accept Me. But I think it's phenomenal, even important, when topics like this are written with this level of sincerity and affection, affection because it's not a mockery or simply superficial, sincerity because it shows you the ugly and the difficult parts of it as well, because there's people out there that, if the succeeses of Oregairu and Dungeon Meshi are anything to go by, are in fact receptive to this more raw, more blunt, more sincere showcases of these things, penned nonetheless with affection and optimism that treats them not as dead ends, but rather difficult but surmountable states (Oregairu with depression and self-loathing) or simply just how some people are and operate differently from the established norm and how that doesn't make them worse or inferior people (Dungeon Meshi with its autistic representation). Nothing wrong with some fast food popcorn wish fulfillment, but there's an audience for seeing something that may hurt a little or more than just a little in how accurate and truthful it is the real experiences lived by those that can relate, because this ache translates to investment, and now I'm invested in seeing how this breathing, living character overcomes the inherent adversity of something we can very much relate to.
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mrsshabana · 1 month
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𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨'𝐬 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲
꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro hates Valentine's Day, but he doesn't hate you. So he decides to do something he thought he'd never do. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, fluff, Gyutaro is a delinquent and a bit of a pervert ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.6k words. Happy Valentine's Day!! ♡
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Gyutaro despises Valentine's day.
Everything about that day makes his skin crawl. So much so that he always skips school on that day so he can avoid being reminded of it.
The only good thing about the day is when Ume comes home with various assortments of chocolates and candies that she shares with him. They munch on the sugary treats while making fun of the pathetic letters she received from the boys in her class.
But deep down Gyutaro wishes he'd receive something for Valentine's Day. That a cute girl from one of his classes would give him a box of chocolates, or even a note confessing her love to him. But he knows that would never happen. He's far too ugly and disliked.
Gyutaro has a reputation for being a delinquent. Skipping class, smoking cigarettes, and getting into fights. Most students avoid him, especially the girls. His appearance is off-putting and his personality is even worse. He typically only harasses the boys though, leaving the girls alone unless his sister has a problem with one of them.
The only time he's ever talked to a girl was when he was forced to be her partner for a biology project. Of course, he didn't contribute anything to the project. But the girl didn't complain. She was kind to him anyway and got them both an A, never telling the teacher she did all the work by herself. Gyutaro thought that girl was sweet and really cute too, though she was a bit of a nerd. Sometimes when he sees her in the hall she'll wave to him and he'll smile and nod back.
Besides the other delinquent kids, that girl is the closest thing Gyutaro has to a friend.
And now that it's senior year and he's about to graduate he feels like he has nothing to lose. So why not give a Valentine's gift to that cute nerdy girl? Out of everyone in the school, you're the only one that makes him blush when he thinks about you.
He knows you'll reject him, there's no doubt about it in his mind. But he's a firm believer in debts and he feels like he owes you one. You did get him that A in Biology after all. This is the only way he can convince himself that it makes sense to give you something for Valentine's Day. Just to get rid of his debt to you. Nothing more than that.
The day before Valentine's day he decides to skip his afternoon class and go to the convenience store to find you a gift.
The aisles are filled with flowers, heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, and cheesy stuffed animals. Looking at the pathetic displays makes him scoff. He doesn't want to be like everyone else and get you something stupid and trivial. But he doesn't know anything about you, so how is he supposed to pick a gift that you'd like?
With a groan, he walks up and down various aisles in the convenience store - stopping when he sees a wall of gashapon machines. And that's when he sees it. A little character on one of the machines that looks so familiar, every time he sees it he's reminded of you. He has no idea who this character is or what show they are from, all he knows is that you like them. When you were studying with him for that stupid project you wore a graphic t-shirt with this character on it. He remembers them so well because their face was plastered on your left tit. He may or may not have been staring while you were busy working on the project.
A grin tugs at his lips as he pulls out some change and walks over to the machine. First try, and it's not the character you like. Second time, it's not them either. Neither is the third try.
"Goddammit!" He grunts, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it in frustration.
"Sir! There's no smoking allowed in here!" The cashier yells at him.
Gyutaro glares at him from the corner of his eye, without saying a word. The coldness in his deep blue stare is enough to send shivers down the employee's spine. He gets a cold sweat and quickly turns a blind eye to Gyutaro.
He brings the cigarette up to his mouth and breathes in deeply. Exhaling as he inserts more coins into the machine.
He plays the gashapon twenty-one times before he gets the character you like.
"About fucking time," he growls - shoving all of the capsule toys into his backpack.
He makes sure to flip off the employee before he leaves the convenience store. Lugging his bag full of capsule toys home, making sure to keep them hidden so his sister doesn't notice.
The next day, Gyutaro skips all of his classes. Only coming into the school building to put your gift in your locker. He walks up to your locker, looking around suspiciously to make sure that no one is around, and tries to open it. But it's locked.
"Fuck," he curses under his breath. Of course, it'd be locked. Is he an idiot?
He furrows his brows as he tries to think of a way to open this damn locker. Looking over at the clock he sees that there are only two minutes left until the bell rings.
"Shit!" Without thinking he kicks your locker, creating a large dent in the spot where the lock is, making it completely unusable now. "Whatever, I don't have time!"
He hurriedly puts the capsule toy in your locker with a sticky note reading, "Happy Valentine's Day - G," and leaves the scene.
.˚₊┈ ꒰ఎ ♥︎ ໒꒱ ┈₊˚.
When class ends you immediately walk towards your locker, eager to get your stuff and leave for the day. Not wanting to be around all of the other girls who received Valentine's gifts from boys in their classes. You feel insecure and embarrassed. You never receive anything from the boys in your class so it's nothing new. But since it's your senior year you had a glimmer of hope that you'd receive something.
Not only did you receive nothing for Valentine's Day, but it appears that your locker has been vandalized. "What the hell!" you shout as you run over to your locker.
"Who would do something like this?" you whimper under your breath as tears begin to form in your eyes.
You hesitantly open your locker, fully expecting to see that your belongings have been stolen. But it's quite the opposite. Everything seems to be in place except there's something new.
A gashapon capsule accompanied by a sticky note.
"What the..." you reach inside and grab the items. Taking a closer look at the note and the capsule toy, "G?"
You open the capsule to see a cute chibi keychain of your favorite character from your favorite anime. Tears begin to prick at your eyes again but for a different reason this time. Who could have been so thoughtful to do something like this for you?
You take the keychain and hold it against your chest, smiling like an idiot because you received a Valentine's gift for the very first time. You're so happy that you don't even care about your locker anymore.
"But who is G?" You think to yourself. Who in this school has a name that starts with the letter G and would vandalize your locker to give you this gift?
There's only one person that comes to mind.
.˚₊┈ ꒰ఎ ♥︎ ໒꒱ ┈₊˚.
During lunch the next day, instead of sitting by your friends in the cafeteria you rush outside towards the natatorium. Finding Gyutaro in his usual spot behind the building smoking a cigarette. All alone.
"Um, Gyutaro?" you say shyly, walking up to him hesitantly.
The permanent scowl on his face instantly disappears when he sees you and is replaced by a blush across his cheeks. But he tries to play it cool, "Uh... wh-what do you want?"
"Well, I wanted to thank you for the Valentine's gift. I really love it," you look up at him with eyes full of admiration and appreciation.
Gyutaro tosses his cigarette on the ground, crushing it with his foot to put it out. He exhales a puff of smoke as his blush deepens, "I dunno what you're talkin' about."
You ignore his denial and step closer to him, "How many tries did it take you?"
He looks away shyly and mumbles, "twenty-one..."
Your eyes widen when you hear his response. He must have spent at least 50 bucks trying to get this specific character for you. And you can't hide the smile on your face as you realize how much he must really like you to have tried so hard to get something that you'd like. He's so much more thoughtful and caring than anyone gives him credit for.
You lunge forward and hug him tightly, "Thank you, Gyutaro! This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me..."
He doesn't know what to say. This is an outcome that he never in a million years would have expected to happen. All he can manage to do is awkwardly hug you back.
His body feels firm and rigid against you, but you don't mind. Despite that, the embrace is filled with so much warmth that you wish you could stay in his arms forever.
Gyutaro stands there, internally freaking out, as you hug him for far too long. But eventually you pull yourself away and look up at the delinquent boy one more time.
"Would you like to hang out with me this weekend?" you say with a newfound confidence in your voice.
"R-Really?" he mutters back, unable to believe his ears.
"Yeah! There's a new arcade downtown that I've really wanted to go to. They have lots of gashapons and claw machines!"
"Alright," he huffs, "But no more gashapons. I hate those fuckin' things..."
You giggle, "That's fine by me. So... it's a date?"
"It's a date," he agrees with a smile.
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finisnihil · 1 month
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Hello pookies let’s talk about Aventurine and Topaz
Penacony spoilers+Analysis ahead
Let’s start off the bat, I personally like Aventurine more than Topaz and the main reason is because Topaz willingly works for the IPC while Aventurine doesn’t. Some people have pointed out in other posts of mine that Topaz didn’t voluntarily join the IPC. Her planet was dying and the IPC bought it, she joined because it was required of her, but here’s the difference. She chooses to stay.
She emphasizes in her talking with Bronya and the Trailblazer than she doesn’t stay with the IPC just because she has to or because she needs a paycheck. She stays because she likes working for them.
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Also, she sees what was done to her planet as a good thing. In her eyes, the IPC saved her planet, in her eyes it isn’t exploitation. She tries to force the same thing on Jarilo-VI to the point she attacks the Astral Express for trying to stop her after Bronya declined the contract. She felt entitled to Jarilo-VI and when she was told no she ignored it. To her, the IPC are the best. It’s no wonder either, as far as we know she hasn’t seen the truly ugly side of the IPC yet because the IPC need her. In her character stories other IPC constantly hype her up, she’s a prodigy, she makes the IPC more efficient. She raises the success rate from 63% to above 80%. Even in her early days we see her breaking rules and getting away with it because the IPC value her too much to lose her.
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They don't even question her calculations. Adding to this, when Aventurine is first introduced, it's after she's punished for her actions on Jarilo-VI.
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He gives a lot of context about Topaz's power in the IPC. She "dodged a bullet there", implying she theoretically should've got a stronger punishment than being demoted a rank and losing some bonuses she's mentioned she doesn't care about. He even mentions that somebody is "looking out for her". Topaz has backing. He also mentions Jarilo-VI was a high-risk low-reward situation and that her "kind heart" was a liability. Topaz has the room to take on such cases and exercise her "kind heart" because she isn't at risk of losing everything if she screws up. There's little consequences to her actions, there's powerful people protecting her, and the IPC need her. Topaz can leave at any time, she choses not to because she likes the IPC. You see this power dynamic in her character trailer.
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A throne is strong imagery and she's surrounded by money, the real representation of power in the IPC.
So let's talk about Aventurine and why I think he's interesting and why I like him more than Topaz.
Let's start with his power dyanmic within the IPC, or more so, his lack of one.
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Aventurine has a serial number on his neck and Dr Ratio specifically calls him a "thrall". The term thrall in this context seems to imply he's a captive of some sort of the IPC*, to them he's a product. We can feel his lack of power in the way people talk to him.
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Sparkle speaks to him in a super derogratory way and belittles him by implying he had to humiliate himself to influence Sunday. Meanwhile Dr Ratio writes him off as ruining everything before he gets to really do anything.
He gets power by gambling for it. Power is fleeting and he can lose it easier than most.
At one point he talks about how much money he loses wasting ten minutes. Ten minutes is nothing for Topaz but to Aventurine it's lost money and if he's not making the IPC money he's useless and viable to be cast aside. He can't afford it because he has no power. Compared to Topaz, he can't leave. He has less room for screw ups.
Onto friendship.
When friendship comes up, he keeps the idea at a distance. He asks how friends benefit him. Sparkle says he treats friends like bargaining chips and when he's talking with Dr Ratio he says that "Friends are weapons of Avgins". To him, friends are used for or against you.
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He doesn't have any real friends, he's always on his own. He has no backing. He can't trust anybody because he's in such a vulnerable state and everyone around him looks down on him because of his heritage. Dr Ratio even tells him he causes too much trouble to have freinds, likening him to a peacock with a jarring call.**
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Finally I want to analyze this conversation between him and Topaz. When asking for her help, he calls her old friend, implying he's planning to use her. The thing about Aventurine is that compared to Topaz, he's more ruthless because he has to be, he doesn't have the wiggle room she does, even Black Swan notes this saying he'll go to extreme lengths to maintain an advantage. Right now, that's what he's doing because he's being thrown to Penacony as a sacrifice. For the reasons above he seems to be the most expendable Stoneheart. He notes Penacony is a lost cause and Topaz is shocked that the mission isn't given to a higher ranking Stoneheart. He eggs Topaz into being his project manager with the idea she'll recover what she lost on Jarilo-VI. What he's really doing is using her to shield himself. With her involvement the IPC will be less likely to cut their loses with him, because they need Topaz and if he puts his eggs in her basket to care for they're less likely to be left to break by the IPC. If things go wrong he takes the blame… unless he has Topaz to sofen the blow. He's gambling on her power in their dynamic.
*My personal theory as of 2.0 is that the Sigonians and Avgins had a war and the IPC backed the Avgins for a benefit of their victory, assuring it. Aventurine was a captive or some sort of "war prize" hence the serial number and Dr Ratio calling him a thrall. It also explains the negative view of Sigonians and the very favorable view of Avgins among other lore we've gotten about it. I may do a seperate post of this theory.
**Sparkle and Dr Ratio liken Aventurine to a peacock frequently. Male peacocks use their feathers to attract the attention of female peacocks. This matches Aventurine's very flamboyant and charismatic character and his place in the story.
Feel free to add discussion, have a great day, mwah!
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azulsluver · 6 months
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I’m boutta hop on the anons submission on the bully AU, when the MC disappears for two weeks and come backs, they’re all like “yeah, I decide to leave for a bit and spend time with my boyfriend at Royal Sword academy. Sorry for the absence, I couldn’t deny his needs.’’ Just for funnies, just to mess with them for a bit. If they go low, MC goes lower.
Will this damage them for life? No, but will it leave a small burn at least? Yes, at least for a few. Who knows, maybe some will try to get back at you for doing that 🥰
I can definitely see Idia putting a tractor in your phone just in case you try to take off location (maybe he’ll put a few cameras in RSA) Ace, Ruggie, Deuce riddle, Sebek, Kalim calling you a whore for being with another man (They’re heartbroken and sobbing) Malleus, Jamil, Azul, Jack are now uptight abt where you are going, Vil body slamming you for uttering another man’s existence around his god-complex presence, Floyd threatening to break your legs, etc, the list is endless ^ - ^
Jade, Lilia, maybe Leona, maybe Rook, Trey, and cater will purposely hook up with other people right in front of you while simultaneously insulting you (this all fun and games)
escaping will not be so easy, especially with all the eyes watching your every step. Give a small indication that you are gonna try to leave again and they will pounce.
Also, this bring up the other topic abt bully AU, everyone at NRC is a jackass but what about Che’nya and Neige? I’d like to imagine there just as bad, maybe even worse but they deny those accusations bc they’re supposed to be the “handsome knights that save the princess from the ugly monsters.✨’’ what makes it worse tho compared to NRC is everyone believes them, even the Staff. I mean, why shouldn’t they trust the sweetest most beautiful model in the world and a friendly extroverted cat!
just gonna...ramble with you on this yummy take..
tw. bully!characters, yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, stalking, mild violence, slut shaming, isolation, stockholm syndrome(?).
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The energy and guts you must have to pull a petty move by disappearing just to hang out with snotty white uniformed men. It hurts their ego so badly killing you may or may have been an accident.
Sometimes they would have to pull some extreme measures. Say if you left the campus with your phone you’ll be easily tracked down. Or maybe someone from the town saw you and ratted you out. What if you didn’t take your phone?; Idia had already placed a microchip inside your flesh. So there’s a possible chance he can hear every conversation you’re having with whoever you’re talking. Talk about controlling your life to a whole new level.
Sass talking is prohibited, but some love it because it gives them a reason to be violent with you. You have no self respect so why are you prancing and buttering up to these white knights? It’s not a fairy tail that five year old you would dream about, so prepared for any misdeeds. And misdeeds they were right.
You won’t be in a good headspace after fleeing to RSA. It’s all made up in your head that these people are good and can help you get away. But their kind smiles don’t reassure you. How tight their grips on your hands and shoulders are as they beg you to stay in RSA. Their behavior is all too similar to how they treated it, making you miss them. Miss that feeling of sadness being washed by their cruel love. Was it even love?
You’ll come crawling back to them in shame, because you couldn’t face Neige’s fake persona, reminding you too much of Vil. It lacked the genuine charm. Or how Goldy used you for things to get out of, Ace and Deuce were already a handful and it made your head explode. Everything will remind you of them, their hands and words were first to corrupt your own.
Think again about leaving, because you won’t anytime soon. After everyone has come to a conclusion that you need a babysitter 24/7….even during night hours. Until they see improvement will they let the freedom of “peace”. Rare but who are you to complain.
Now Malleus and Kalim are going to be clingier than ever, you’ve unlocked a sense of fear—they don’t wish to be abandoned by you, or the thought of you doing so in general. It’s humiliating and not their style, makes them lack control. Luckily they’re really good at deceiving people, but you’re not off the hook for Sebek. All types of names are thrown at you. Dirty, dirty, filthy you. His yelling is enough to make you cry because you’re convinced it’s true! You are dirty!
Jade and Trey are the first to blow a towel over your form, give you a sense of comfort until it’s ripped away. Can’t you how much they love this person? It can be you if you’ve behaved, but you want to wag your tail like a dog and catch a bone with those RSA students. They’ll bring it up every time you argue with them. They’ve been nothing but loyal and doing what’s best for you. So don’t come crying when another person skimpily leaves their room all satisfied.
Do this type of attic with them and it’s over. Complete isolation. No talking to anyone. Hell you’re gonna be trapped in a cell or room for months and months. Only ever seeing them. Just them entering to give you breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Leaving without a word. Until you fully understand that speaking with any other person can be the downfall of your social life.
More rambles about visiting RSA tho xP
Never ever mention Neige in front of Vil, that’s like a death wish and so so petty move. It hits all the spots including his insecurities and overthinking. He’s done everything to be perfect and you still went to see that twerp!! The audacity!! Swear you’ll be leaving his room all bruised and tired, his magic healing any open wounds but leaving the flesh to swell under your skin. You look awful, ugly even. Epel and Rook will gladly bring you back to Vil if they catch you with Neige or the dwarfs.
Going anywhere under their supervision is impossible, Rook placing his unique magic on you so he knows whether you were lying or not.
My gosh Floyd threatening to break your legs is so silly because he does it on a daily. Stop angering him and maybe it wouldn’t happen (eyeroll emoji..). Even Jamil will break your legs on command, usually he’ll do it when sees fit. Bad dogs get left outside to think about what they’ve done, and yes, they did leave you outside before when it was storming to teach you a lesson.
Thinking bout Azul spewing ink from his lips when angered or stressed out. You’re giving him even whiter hair than he has. Too many people at RSA are pure evil. He doesn’t care about you yet you’re the main problem on why any RSA student can just barge in and ruin everyone’s career. He may be over exaggerating but it’s for a good reason. Azul has made some uh, clients in RSA. He doesn’t wanna ruin it because you can’t seem to keep your emotions in checked, and your legs closed…(omg he didn’t say that stoppp)
Arf arf Leona in his cheating era. What am I saying you guys aren’t even official. No one is. But they still like the thought that you’re basically NRC property until graduation. Even after graduation you’ll be passed like a old toy, forced to be fixed and brought anew until it’s time to switch. Leona is one of the closest people you can go to for comfort, not the best option but not the worst. The reason it’s not the best is his addiction to getting you through jealously. Once Leona understands you have fallen victim to Stockholm syndrome does he bring randoms into his bed. He gives a show of softened you’ll never revive until he’s certain to claim you. But it’ll never happen. Not ever with you.
Lawd did this whole petty stuff start all of this? Yes it did now enjoyz more content.
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yaksha-lover · 3 months
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i’m obsessed with the thought of vil falling for someone who’s ugly. especially if it’s a forced proximity trope. triple points if it’s enemies to lovers!
there’s just something about a guy obsessed with beauty is shown that beauty doesn’t equal to value that melts me
omg i actually was obsessed with this concept a few months ago and i wrote a very short unfinished drabble (set in medieval au) about knight!vil falling for ‘ugly’ knight!reader but i didn’t think anyone would want to read about an ‘ugly’ reader 😭😭
i definitely agree tho the concept is so perfect for vil imo. like the idea of this guy who’s so fixated and obsessed with beauty (especially one who’s potentially been told that much of his worth lies in his looks) who ends up falling for someone very unconventional completely unintentionally. like theres’s a whole internal struggle in him that he doesn’t want to fall in love with this person. they’re an enemy, and unattractive at that.
but then he just can’t help but falling in love with their character; when they give hope to him and represent a goodness that he’d lost. someone who is called ugly and unwanted everyday by the world and manages to keep their head held high even if tears are pouring down their cheeks.
i think that’s a quality he’d admire a lot; kindness even when the world has been unkind. he wants to be good like that too. in a way, you’re like a mirror of the kind of goodness he wants to see in himself. you’re made fun of and put down at every turn and yet you do not let that stop you from being nice. whenever someone mocks vil, he can’t let it go, he can’t let himself be kind because it hurts and that’s the only protection he’s found.
also the idea of consciously thinking someone is unattractive but unconsciously starting to notice their eyes and lips and desire settling in- help-
unfinished drabble under the cut 👉👈 (also its fem reader bc i think medieval gender roles and the idea of ‘ugly’ woman x hot man couple is kind of important to the theme lol - aka this is just jaime x brienne rewritten but anyway-)
Vil truly believed you were ugly when he first met you. He almost never truly meant the term, but in this case, it was appropriate. Most everyone you encountered agreed. He could tell by how you’d stayed stone-faced at his cruel taunts, apparently used to it. Your features were just a bit too extreme, too out of place, too different. He’d used your appearance against you, scratching at every insecurity you’d thought of and probably some you hadn’t. Still, you hadn’t gotten angry as he’d hoped. You didn’t seek to harm him, even when he knew he’d struck a sore spot.
He persevered, but you’d never given in, despite his hopes that you would become blinded enough by anger and pain to give him a chance to escape. He admired you, in a way. It seemed as though life had beaten you down long before he’d come along, but a hardened rock had emerged from the erosion.
Sometimes his words would cut too deep for you to ignore. You never did anything rash, to his dismay, but he could tell they affected you. He didn’t feel bad; why should he? He was your hostage, and you his captor. Even if you were performing your duty, you were getting in the way of his own responsibilities, his life.
Vil was surprised to learn that you were a high-born like himself. Well, not exactly born to a family of his status and wealth, but a high-born nonetheless. He’d realized that he should’ve been addressing you with your Lady title, but you’d fought at soon as he’d tried.
No matter my origin, you know that no man sees me as a lady, Sir Vil.
-
They came, and they cut off his hair. One of them taunted him for being a beautiful husk. So they’d cut a deep gash across his face. Now your outside matches your inside, ‘Sir’, they’d mocked.
Vil had wished they’d cut off his head instead.
Later, after you’d managed to convince them to let you treat his wounds, he’d bemoaned to you.
Now we’re both grotesque, he’d said, a pair of freaks.
You’re not ugly, you just have a scar, you’d replied. You turned away from your task to face him. You’ll never know what it means to be ugly.
Even with his bitter remarks, you treated his wounds all the same. When he was too afraid to face himself in the reflection of the lake, you’d been the one to peel away his bandages and force him to look.
See, you’d said, not a monster, just a man.
He’d wondered if you were an angel at that moment, a saint. Or maybe you were a witch destined to lead him astray. He hadn’t really cared either way.
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asdfghjklmals · 11 months
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NETFLIX & BETRAYALS✩༶‧˚
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GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. WORD COUNT: 0.8k words. TAGS: boyfriend!gojo, satoru gojo x fem!oc, established couple.
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SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend betrays satoru and watches an episode of the show they were watching together without him. AUTHOR'S NOTE: in celebration of bridgerton's queen charlotte premiere. i cried ugly tears and then an idea popped up in my head. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!
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“babe? i’m home!” satoru called out to you in the living room from the foyer.
you were spooked by your boyfriend’s voice. he wasn’t supposed to be home from his mission until half past seven. you quickly turned off the television and sprinted to your lover’s side.
“hi, honey!” you chuckled apprehensively, brushing his arms up and down with your hand. “how was work?”
“they assigned me a grade 2 curse because no other sorcerers were available. it was a piece of cake.” he squinted his eyes at you, suspicious of what you were doing before he teleported into the apartment.
you tried to keep the conversation going, “i thought you weren’t gonna be home until 7:30pm? if i knew you were coming home early, i would’ve started dinner.”
“babe, it was a grade 2. my presence alone was enough to exorcise that tiny thing.” that satoru gojo, he was so cocky and full of himself. as he should be, he was the strongest after all.
“what were you doing just barely?” he questioned you with suspecting eyes. “oh, just watching some random show on tv.” you nervously laughed, scratching the back of your head. “okay, cool. mind giving me the remote?” satoru reached for the remote in your hand as you backed away from him.
“why don’t you order us some dinner first? then we can watch our show together.” you avoided his eye contact, you were a horrible liar and he could see right through you. you always joked that it was a benefit to having the six eyes, when in reality, he just knew you too well. he was the type of boyfriend to know when you were awake just by the sound of your breathing.
your current tv show that you and your boyfriend were watching together was the latest season of bridgerton. you and satoru were avid fans of the show and watched every season together. your favorite season was season 1, but he didn't need to know that. unfortunately, last night ended on a cliffhanger and satoru had to wake up early for work, so you couldn’t watch another episode together. you may or may not have started the next episode without him… you just had to find out why king george was acting the way he was!
satoru stood in front of you and grabbed the remote from your hand. you didn’t even try to fight him. his cursed energy well overpowered yours and you knew you wouldn't be able to get through his infinity. you gulped as he turned on the TV.
“i knew it!” he shrieked, “you started another episode without me!” he was so dramatic. it was like you went to sushi go without him, or if you went to his favorite kikufuku shop without him, it was the end of the world in his beautiful, cerulean blue eyes.
you stepped forward, “babe, i had to know why—”
“nuh uh. i’m pissed at you.” he frowned and folded his arms. you peered at him with puppy dog eyes and continued to slowly creep towards him. he pouted his lips and turned his face away from you. you placed both your hands on his shoulders, shifting them to cradle both sides of his neck.
“i’m sorry, satoru.” you tip-toed to kiss his cheek as he refused to look at you. you continued your assault of kisses on his cheek, down his jawline, and towards his neck until gojo pushed your hands away from him.
“okay, okay. i forgive you,” he rolled his eyes. he couldn’t stay mad at you for more than a minute. “but, because you betrayed me, you’re treating for dinner tonight.” you felt that it was a fair punishment. you smiled at him and he put his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug. he rested his head on your shoulders.
“sushi go take out?” you suggested.
you felt his laugh vibrate your whole body.
“yes, lady gojo, that would be quite splendid,” as gojo recited in a fake (but horrible) british accent.
EXTRA:
you and satoru binged the entire new season of bridgerton tonight after finishing your take out dinner from sushi go. you were both bundled up in a cozy throw blanket on the couch, legs intertwined, gojo’s arm around your shoulders pulling you close.
“by the way, satoru…”
“hmmm?” he squeezed you, kissing the side of your head, peering down to look at his tired lover.
“i know you watched the last season of love is blind without me.”
“i did not! i would never betray you like you did to me today.” he said defensively, clutching his chest in (fake) shock. he was also a horrible liar. how could two people so bad at lying be together?
���oh, i know you did, baby. megumi told me that you were using his profile so i couldn’t see the watch history on ours.”
“that’s it, i’m changing the netflix password.”
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© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.
DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG
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aryxchse · 11 months
Text
realistic friends to lovers with bakugou katsuki
a/n: i watched the boys around me and how they treated the girls they think serious about, so i came up with this. this is realistic in my opinion of course, you may not think like that. but hope u guys enjoy, i wasn't writing abt my husband in a VERY long time 🫶🏻
warnings: bad grammar, not proofreaded
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- bakugou wasn't the serious relationship type.
- he wasn't a people guy either, but when he wants someone he knows how to get that someone.
- with that face, a few beautiful words were enough to get what he wanted.
- and his sharp tongue was also enough to send them away.
- he was acting like this, because he knew how no one can deal with his character.
- until he met you.
- the first moment he saw you, realised that he found the one.
- he didn't wanted you, he needed you.
- you were like his oxygen to breath or, water to drink when he's so thirsty. the first bite of the food when he's so hungry or the moment he sits down after a very long day.
- you felt so.. comfortable. so... pure.
- but, he didn't even talk to you.
- he didn't text, call, or invite you to events.
- you have to make the first move.
- of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't do cute things.
- for example;
- once he gave you his earrings just because you like them even though they were very expensive.
- when you talk bad about yourself he complements you agressively. complements you because he needs you to know how he sees you, does it agressively because how stupid you are to think you're ugly or unworthy.
- how can you think those bad things about yourself when you're literally the definition of angel in his eyes.
- he buys you stuff and constantly pays your bills when you guys go to a restaurant.
- walks behind you when there's creepy-like men around and gives them death stares.
- literally so nice to you. bullies mina [ in a innocent way, but you know, he's kinda mean. ] in front of you for talking stupid, but when you make a dumb joke that's literally not funny, he's laughing his ass off.
- or when he bullies uraraka for her outfit in a joking way but mesmerized when you walk into the room.
- just, nice. very, very, nice.
- and so shy.
- but still, you have to text him first.
- he needs to be sure that you love him too, because he's so serious about you and you're the only one he felt this way.
- he doesn't wanna get his heart broken because he won't know what to do with it.
- and he'd be a mess.
- and you understand this and usually make the first moves.
- like, you invite him somewhere, calling him and asking where he is or what he's doing. starting conversations basically.
- but one day, you get angry.
- the voices in your head becomes too loud at some point.
- he was so comfortable around mina and the other girls, why can't he be with you? he was so confident and relaxed around them it makes you think that he actually hates you, not loves you.
- yes he'd done very beautiful things, yes he's so nice to you but he's not doing anything if you don't do it.
- and because of this, one day you snapped.
- he was talking with his group as usual, you were already feeling like a burden but staying anyway, watching the man you love talk so confident with his friends.
- you were sitting alone and they were standing in front of you together, of course you were included by the girls but not by the man you love.
- he wasn't talking with you very much but he was keeping an eye on you.
- sometimes he would blink at you when you're staring at him and asks what you're doing. checks you in his way and then turning into the conversation again.
- and you were so bored of this.
- you sighed angryly and get off, saying nothing.
- leaving all the confused looks behind.
- it was after five minutes you left, bakugou followed you.
- "hey, what happened back there?" you rolled your eyes, hugged yourself because of the cold.
- bakugou noticed that and tried to gave you his jacket. key word; tried.
- "here, take my jacke-"
- "i don't want it."
- well, you can say that he was both confused and afraid.
- "you'll get cold."
- "do you even care?" you said sharply.
- he doesn't know what's going on, but one thing he knows that, you were so pissed.
- "what do you mean?" he asks, carefully picking his words.
- "i'm suprised that you even tried to gave me your jacket when i didn't even asked," you laughed sarcastically. "you know, you usually don't do things without someone telling you."
- oh. so that's what this is about.
- he had a confused look on his face, but a grin followed after.
- "tell me exactly, what is your problem?"
- "you, bakugou! you're my problem!"
- the last name treatment. this is bad.
- "why?"
- you sighed, calming yourself down. "i'm sorry if i misunderstand your feelings towards me but, if you do love me, i don't believe it."
- first of all, how dare you don't believe his feelings?
- second of all, how did you understand about his feelings?
- he knew he didn't showed you enough, but you seemed to not care about it so much.
- apparently, you were good at acting.
- "if you were so upset about this, why you acted like you didn't care?"
- "because, i didn't wanted to ruin things between us, i wasn't sure that you loved me." you said, a disappointed look on your face.
- he couldn't believe what he done.
- he adored you so much, so much that you were messing with his nature, and now you were telling him that you didn't believe he loves you?
- god, what a shitty night he thinked.
- he got closer and hold you by the waist, pulling you closer to him while putting his jacket on top of your shoulders.
- "i'm sorry i acted like an ass," he says. he was hold your face in his hands now. "i wasn't sure that you loved me too."
- "it's okay," you said, even though it was like an hell to you. "you did act like an ass though."
- he laughed. "i'm sorry angel," he said, thumb moving around your jawline. "i do love you, very much."
- you relaxed at his touches. "i love you too, asshole."
- you both kissed after, finally being together after a VERY LONG time 🫶🏻
edit: i know you may think that yn easly forgive bakugou but, who can be mad at him when he gave you his puppy eyes 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 (this is my way of saying srry haha)
and WOW I MADE SM SPELLING MISTAKES😭
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cozyforjate · 9 months
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It surprises me when people say Chapel doesn’t have a trait, personality, or plotline other than being Spock’s love interest... Let me list all the things we know and have seen about this amazing character.
Christine Chapel is a nurse on The Enterprise. She is on civilian exchange from the Stanford Morehouse Epigenetic Project. She is also a part of Starfleet’s initiative to better observe alien cultures without contamination.
M’Benga treats her as an equal. Pike called her “doctor” in the very first episode which suggests that her medical knowledge and experience must be impressive.
She is an expert on genetic modification. She can mess with your genome and temporarily turn you into an Alien. And she makes it look easy.
She is also interested in archeological medicine. She is doing fieldwork, making discoveries, and writing papers on the subject while doing her other duties on the ship.
Long story short she is quite the genius!
She is outgoing, friendly, witty, funny, adventurous, strong, brave but also compassionate and emotional.
She doesn’t judge, she accepts people for who they are.
She is confident in her abilities. She doesn’t take anyone’s BS. “I don’t think the Vulcan Fellowship is ready for me”… No one, not even Vulcans can bully or make her feel insecure.
But when she was a kid she was bullied. Milo, her Malamute, bit one of those bullies. Good boy!
As it was implied in one of the episodes she is most probably bi.
She has a vulnerable side. She is afraid of commitment. Afraid of romantic relationships getting deep. Perhaps even afraid of falling in love. She uses humor when things get too serious or personal for her. There is a story waiting to unfold in time. And i can’t wait to know more of it!
She was in the Klingon War with M'Benga. They witnessed the ugly face of war and had to make some hard decisions. They used (perhaps even developed) an illegal serum that temporarily gives them enough power and stamina to survive against Klingons. This left a scar on her as much as it did on M'Benga. We will revisit this story in episode 8 (i guess).
She knows how to fight. She is a quick thinker during stressful situations. And she is a badass. For example, she can handle space pirates and all she needs is a hypospray! She can deal with baby Gorns and survive!
She is heroic. She would jump into space without an EV suit to prevent a war.
Oh and she is also Spock's love interest and it's a delicious relationship that enrichens both characters.
This is what we got in 15 episodes. I'm sure we'll learn more about her and she will get new storylines in the seasons to come.
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