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#just like specifically the part where he's not judging you
coffe-and-tea-time · 22 hours
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KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!
HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS
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Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol
Post where this suggestion came from
↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎
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TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions
Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...
Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?
A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh? 
“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”
Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.
“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”
It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?
“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”
Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?
Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.
“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”
Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…
wait a second…
Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?
“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”
Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.
“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”
You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.
“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”
Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.
So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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HEAR ME OUT ON THIS:
Levi helping you when you're overstimulated in public places or trying to get you out of a party when you're too overly stimulated
STOP I ACTUALLY NEED THIS SO BAD
keep in mind that i'm coming from the POV of someone that is AuDHD but like
he'd be so good at reminding you to bring your fidgets and earplugs if you're going out in public, which esp helps with the forgetfulness part of the ADHD.
he'd also be able to tell like immediately once you start getting overstimulated. he could tell when you start dissociating and your eyes just kinda glaze over or how you're suddenly tense and much more curt with your responses. of course, you could just be overwhelmed in general, but he's def able to pick up when it's specifically from sensory overload.
if you absolutely cannot leave the situation (which is always his first choice), he'll remind you about your earplugs or remind you of whatever coping mechanism works to ground you. if nothing else, he offers that gentle, guiding hand to support you and not judge you when you're all like skdjfksjdf from being overstimmed.
as for parties? 100% he'll know ALL your tells and immediately work to get you out of there as soon as he could tell that you're beginning to get overstimulated.
and he'd be so sweet about it too, reassuring you that he's not mad or judging you for getting overstimulated, saying that it really was loud as fuck in there and that the only people not getting overwhelmed were the people causing the noise themselves.
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wonder-worker · 7 months
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"Because Richard (III) usurped the throne, his retinue is inevitably seen as inimical to the crown and therefore in an important sense independent of royal authority. In the context of Edward IV's reign, in which the retinue was created, neither assumption is true. The development of the retinue would have been impossible without royal backing and reflected, rather than negated, the king's authority. Within the north itself, Gloucester's connection subsumed that of the crown. Elsewhere, in East Anglia and in Wales, that focus for royal servants was provided by others, but Gloucester was still part of that royal connection, not remote from it. In the rest of England, as constable and admiral, he had contributed to the enforcement of royal authority. When he seized power in 1483 he did not do it from outside the prevailing political structure but from its heart."
-Rosemary Horrox, "Richard III: A Study of Service"
#r*chard iii#english history#my post#Richard was certainly very powerful in the north but to claim that he 'practically ruled' or was king in all but name is very misleading#his power/success/popularity were not detached from Edward IV's rule but a fundamental part/reflection/extension of Edward IV's rule#even more so that anyone else because he was Edward's own brother#there's also the 1475 clause to consider: Richard & Anne would hold their titles jointly and in descent only as long as George Neville#also had heirs. Otherwise Richard's title would revert to life interest. His power was certainly exceptional but his position wasn't as#absolute or indefinite as is often assumed. It WAS fundamentally tied to his brother's favor just like everyone else#and Richard was evidently aware of that (you could even argue that his actions in 1483 reflected his insecurity in that regard)#once again: when discussing Edward IV's reign & Richard III's subsequent usurpation it's really important to not fall prey to hindsight#for example: A.J Pollard's assumption that Edward IV had no choice but to helplessly give into his overbearing brothers' demands#and had to use all his strength to make Richard to heed to his command which fell apart after he died and Richard was unleashed#(which subsequently forms the basis of Pollard's criticism of Edward IV's reign & character along with his misinterpretation of the actions#of Edward IV's council & its main players after his death who were nowhere near as divided or hostile as Pollard assumes)#is laughably inaccurate. Edward IV was certainly indulgent and was more passive/encouraging where Richard (solely Richard) was concerned#but he was by no means unaware or insert. His backing was necessary to build up Richard's power and he was clearly involved & invested#evidenced by how he systematically depowered George of Clarence (which Clarence explicitly recognized) and empowered Richard#and in any case: to use Richard as an example to generalize assumptions of the power other magnates held during Edward IV's reign#- and to judge Edward's reign with that specific assumption in mind - is extremely misleading and objectively inaccurate#Richard's power was singular and exceptional and undoubtedly tied to the fact that he was Edward's own brother. It wasn't commonplace.#as Horrox says: apart from Richard the power enjoyed by noble associates under Edward IV was fairly analogous to the power enjoyed by#noble associates under Henry VII. and absolutely nobody claims that HE over-powered or was ruled by his nobles or subjects#the idea that Richard's usurpation was 'inevitable' and the direct result of Edward empowering him is laughable#contemporaries unanimously expected Edward V's peaceful succession. Why on earth would anyone - least of all Edward -#expect Richard to usurp his own nephew in a way that went far beyond the political norms of the time?#that was the key reason why the usurpation was possible at all#as David Horspool says: RICHARD was the 'overriding factor' of his own usurpation There's no need to minimize or outright deny his agency#as Charles Ross evidently did
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welcometogrouchland · 2 years
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"aaaand he's right behind me, isn't he?" Is an overplayed joke but I think ppl are focusing too much on the joke out of context like. It's not the line itself that's the problem, I've seen this joke done well, the problem with this kind of overplayed quip is when assembly line blockbusters use it as a substitute for actual characterization and thought out jokes with set up and pay off.
Like I saw an article that described the Russo bros dialogue in their latest film as feeling like placeholders for funnier jokes meant to be added later, and that's very much what "and he's right behind me" is being used to represent in the recent wave of memes parodying it and movies that feature it- it's dialogue that could be funny in the right context but reads as annoying, insincere and overplayed because writers and directors employ it just as a way to
a) self parody in a way that creates distance between the film and the audience- which is distance from criticism, yes, but also distance that halts all investment and identification between the story and audience
and b) make their job easier at the cost of quality. Because "he's right behind me, isn't he?" Is a tried and true joke that doesn't tell us anything about the character saying it other than "they're meant to be funny and sarcastic and likeable" in the most generic sense of all those words
because a blandly likeable protagonist is easy to write, and they want things that are easy to write so they can put them on the assembly line. Which is frustrating but I do understand it's mostly a product of corporate monopoly and strangling studios. I'm sure most of these writers would like to make something better but just. Cannot be bothered to when the film is guaranteed money based on brand name clout alone AND they have to deal with execs who micromanage projects that fall under their 'brand'. Why write jokes that feel specific to the characters you've created, or engineer characters with comedy in mind? Thats too personal and gimmicky and high effort- slap a one-liner on them and now you've got the human equivalent of a palette cleanser when you flit between summer mega movies. Except every meal is a palette cleanser, and in the end, it tastes like nothing at all.
#ramblings of a lunatic#sorry i just. saw something that annoyed me#where they judged the quality of a thing (admittedly a thing i like so I'm very biased here!) by the fact that they personally felt#that it was the kind of show that would include a ''hes right behind me isn't he?'' joke#and it's like. i get what you're going for and other parts of your post are more coherent in your grievances#(you think it's generic)#but like. idk i just feel like turning specific lines that are overplayed but ultimately neutral on their own-#-into shorthand for ''generic and bad'' is like. gonna be unhelpful in the long run#idk feel free to add on to this with expansions or anything you think i got factually wrong if i did say something completely untrue#just like be civil yknow. like i have good faith for the ppl who follow me don't get me wrong I'm just. not in the mood rn for tomfoolery#this is highly unedited and i might wake up tomorrow and find it incomprehensible or just. poorly articulated#but for now you're getting my moaning and groaning as is. o natural babey#Anyway yes- mega blockbusters made on an assembly line are bad and they produce bad movies.#But it's less to do with a couple individual words that appear often and more abt the conditions surrounding their production.#it's why i keep calling them assembly line blockbusters#to the person who once compared the mcu to cinematic fast food...hows it feel to be so deeply correct#(fast food good sometimes and I have nostalgic favourites but by god it cannot be all i eat or I will get very sick)
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hotchscvm · 9 months
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three cents
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pairings: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.
word count: 1.2k
warnings: talks of big dick energy, prostitution if you squint, red wine, gray sweatpants (mentioned)
Girls' night out was wild, no one knew where you would end up. One night, you ended up on a boat and the next you were on a train to NYC. After getting thrown in jail with Emily, JJ, and Penelope during another night out, you all vowed to keep whatever happened during the night a secret from everyone, specifically Derek Morgan. Derek Morgan who had bailed all four of you out of jail, Derek Morgan who teased you relentlessly for weeks after.
After a long case, Emily suggested another girl’s night which all of you agreed on, desperately needing a celebratory drink after saving a little girl. It was around one in the morning when you got back to Quantico and though Aaron gave you the day off for tomorrow–or well, later today–all four of you decided to crash at Emily’s and drink to your heart’s content.
Popcorn and Hersey kisses lay on Emily’s coffee table, bottles of half-empty wine and jello shots litter the floor and you’re all giggling about whether to prank Derek by getting phone cases with a picture of him shirtless. You’re all on board and Penelope is getting them custom-made through a website she’s found.
“Speaking of Derek’s abs.” JJ drags the ‘s’ creating a hissing noise. She turns to you, grinning. “I’ve wanted to ask ever since you went to that Doctor Who convention with him. Do you like like Spence?”
You giggled, taking a small sip of wine, thinking about the genius. “Noooo. Spence is my friend. And he runs with his gun like it’s weighing him down. Besides, I only went to that Doctor Who convention because he went to see Barbie with me. He’s, like, too young for me, too.”
“He’s older than you.” Emily points out, smirking, knowing full well you liked older men. “He’s adorable and sweet.”
“Spencer is definitely cute and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a sex dream about him,” you confessed, smiling as the girls burst out laughing. “But he’s too … inexperienced. I like my men like I like my wine. Old.”
Your phone had been on mute since you entered the plane, not wanting to abruptly wake anyone up if they were resting, so not a single person in the room had heard your phone ringing or Aaron’s multiple “hello’s” trying to get your attention. All of you were oblivious to your boss listening in to the conversation.
“Is Rossi too old for you?” Penelope asked, inciting another round of giggles.
You nodded, finishing off your glass of wine. “Just a bit. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was in the Marines though, and I definitely would’ve been the fourth Mrs. Rossi back then.”
Emily cackled, a bit of red wine spilling from her full glass. “Okay, I have a question. Would you guys fuck Hotch for ten million dollars? Be honest here.”
“No!” both JJ and Penelope spit out. They all turned to you, grinning like madmen.
You shrugged, filling another glass. “I’d do it for three.”
“Damn, three million? That’s–“
“Nope,” you smirked, taking a sip.
Emily paused, head tilting in confusion. “Three … hundred thousand?”
“No.”
“Three thousand?”
You shake your head, grinning at the confused woman. “Nope.”
“Three hundred?”
“No.”
Emily’s eyes widened, jaw-dropping a little further as you denied her guesses. “Three dollars?”
“No.”
“THREE CENTS?” JJ was the one to shout, mouth dropping open when you giggled and nodded.
Penelope threw a pillow at you, and you giggled, dodging it, nearly spilling your drink in the process. “Hey! This is supposed to be a judge-free zone. I’d suck and fuck Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner for three measly cents.”
“Okay, I’d understand if you said Derek but Hotch?” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head at the thought. “He’s like twenty years older than you!”
“Exactly! That’s part of the appeal,” you replied. You were sure by tomorrow no one would remember your confession–though you were positive you wouldn’t either–and that they wouldn’t tease you too much over it. “He’s the literal definition of a DILF.”
The girls laughed at your words, JJ having to clutch onto a pillow to control herself.
“And!” you continue. “I was working out with Derek once and Hotch came in the gym with gray sweats and his dick looks humongous. It was a huge fucking bulge. I think I saw it twitching.”
Penelope slaps her hands over her ears, playfully grimacing at your words while Emily chugs the remains of her glass, absolutely baffled. You didn’t mind, sex and boys were common conversation topics during girl’s night (and sometimes when Emily would catch you making eyes at someone.
The rest of the night continued the same, though less talk about Hotch’s big dick and more on whether you all should make more jello shots. By the time you’re coming up with an answer, it’s five in the morning and all four of you are knocked out from the alcohol in your system. Even in your drunk state, you knew you’d wake up to a pounding headache.
When Derek calls in the morning, telling everyone about a new case, you’re all moody and grumpy. Hotch wanted everyone in even though he had given the day off, so no one was jumping for joy especially not in your hangover state.
Despite drinking the most, Emily drives the four of you back to the BAU, mumbling obscenities under her breath on the way. When you enter the elevator, Derek is there, causing all of you to groan at his presence. One look at you and he laughs loudly, knowing what had transpired the night before.
You wish you could shoot his foot.
In the briefing room, Hotch apologizes for having you all come in on your day off, pausing to glance at you before presenting the case. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid that much attention to it, your headache taking up your attention. Fire, serial arsonist, fifteen dead, Seattle.
“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch announces, walking across the table. As the team filters out of the room, he calls your name. “In my office, please. I want to discuss something with you.”
Confused, you follow him to his office, pushing through your headache to think about what he could possibly want to speak to you about. You come up blank, even more confused when you see him lock the door to his office as you enter. “Did I do something wrong?”
Hotch shook his head, moving past you to his desk. He picks up something and turns around. In his hands are three pennies, and he’s holding them out to you. “Three cents.”
You’re getting deja vu on the words, and it’s not until several seconds of standing in silence and confusion that it clicks. Three cents. You blush, looking at the pennies. “I don’t understand.”
“You said you’d suck and fuck me for three cents,” he smirks at your shock, placing the coins in your hands.
“What–”
Hotch unbuckles his belt, causing you to stop mid-sentence. “You’ve got twenty-eight minutes to suck my cock. Get to work.”
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ervans · 5 months
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Care for You (Mizu x F!reader)
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warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, and violence, soft sex, fingering (r! receiving)
a/n: wow. it's been a minute since i've truly sat down and wrote something. i'm absolutely obsessed with BES and mizu, i haven't felt so passionate about something since TLOU. this is my adaptation of what seems to be the most cliche scenario in this fandom so far: reader finding an injured mizu. i'm a bit rusty when it comes to writing so any and all feedback is welcome and appreciated, follows and notes as well. i have more ideas for works surrounding mizu (including a brothel fic muahahaha) so keep your eyes peeled for my posts :))
The sound of your sandals shuffling against the ground and your heavy pants were the only noises that pierced the otherwise quiet night. The moon, stars, and faint glow of your home in the distance were your only source of light as you trekked up the hill where the soft orange hue was coming from. The walk up this specific hill usually caused you no trouble, having done it dozens of times; however, this time was a tad bit different. Why? The limp, unconscious body that was currently draped over your shoulder.
Earlier in the evening you had heard a commotion down at the lake below the hill your home rested on. It was normal for stragglers, crooks, and opium addicts to travel through this part of Japan and mixing those groups of people usually ended up in some sort of fight. You had paid no mind to the noise, continuing with your cleaning. It wasn’t until you realized you needed more water for your tea that you made your way down the hill. As you reached the shore and saw the mess in front of you your stomach lurched.
Four bodies laid lifeless in front of you on the sand. From what you could tell they all had various stab and slash wounds across their bodies. Fifteen feet away from the tattered bodies lay another smaller one clad in baggy black trousers and stockings, a dark blue haori, and white scarf around his neck with a brown straw hat, round glasses with an orange tinted lens, and a sword, the telltale sign of a samurai on the ground beside him.
 From where you stood you could see his chest still moving as he tried to shallowly breathe in oxygen from the air surrounding his struggling body. That brings you to where you are now, struggling up a damn hill trying to save this unknown samurai’s life. Was he responsible for the four bodies you had pushed into the lake? It didn’t matter to you; you weren’t one to judge in a world where it was kill or be killed.
You push the door to your house open and lay the injured stranger onto your mat near the fire. You start to boil water to disinfect whatever wounds he had and open a drawer to grab a needle and thread just in case stitches were needed. They very much were. You quickly realized the source of what seemed like never-ending blood on the top half of his body as you stripped the bloodstained clothing away. A gash about 4 inches long and deeper than you’d like it to be starting towards the base of his ribcage, skin around it starting to turn a yellowish color. It almost distracted you from the way the stranger was wearing chest wraps. Almost.
You frowned looking down at the shallow breathing of the samurai’s chest. Why would he need chest wraps? You thought, fingers brushing over the once white cloth now stained. Unless? You slowly started to undo the bindings, telling yourself you needed to anyways to properly clean the wound. As the cloth unraveled in your hands your small suspicion was confirmed. Two small breasts sat atop the chest of the slender samurai that laid before you, nipples hardening as they became exposed to the air. Your eyebrows raised, head tilting slightly to the side. A female samurai? How? Questions began to fill your mind as you started to clean the wound, gently washing it with the now hot water. It was unheard of for a woman to even touch a sword as it was said to make the blade impure. Where had this woman gotten her sword? Who did she get taught by? Clearly from the mess on the beach she knew her way around a fight.
You finished cleaning and stitching the larger wound and got to work on disinfecting the smaller cuts and scrapes on the upper half of her body. Once you were satisfied with your work, you began removing the woman’s trousers and stockings, revealing another deep gash running from the top of her knee down to her shin. Sighing you started the same process as her chest and prepared yourself for the unknown amount of time you would be caring for this mysterious female samurai.
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It took three days for the samurai to fully regain her consciousness. In those days you had changed the dressings on her wounds, forced broth and water down her throat for some form of sustenance, and carefully studied her whenever you found the chance to. You noticed small things others would easily miss. The way her face seemed like it was always in a permanent frown, her subtly toned muscles from what had to be from years of training, how her calloused hands would twitch in her sleep, stress being the cause of it you had concluded after watching her for a good hour whilst you sipped on your tea, and how insanely handsome she was. Wait what? Handsome? That thought scared you so much that you had refused to watch her for the remainder of the evening besides checking her wounds thoroughly before you went to bed. But you couldn’t ignore those thoughts that plagued your head as your touch lingered for more time than it should’ve.
You were sat cross-legged waiting for your tea to steep when you heard a thud from behind you. Quickly turning around to find what the source of the noise was, you were met with the samurai staring back at you, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit space. And oh, were they blue. You had never seen or known something could be as piercingly blue as the eyes that met yours.
“Who are you? Where am I?” The samurai demanded in a gravelly voice that sent a shiver up your spine. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer right away, mouth slightly agape with shock at the stranger who had, just minutes ago, been passed out. “I asked you a question, now answer it.” She said sternly after a beat of silence between the two of you.
You blinked, raising an eyebrow and rising to your feet. “Well that’s no way to talk to someone who saved your life now is it?”
The woman, stern frown never leaving her features, quickly looked around the room taking in her surroundings. She then looked down at herself, usual blue haori missing and replaced with a softer red one. You hadn’t wanted to leave her bare in the middle of your home and opted to dress her in one of yours while you worked on scrubbing the stains out of hers.
You saw her tentatively try to move, and the flash of pain the appeared on her face for just a second didn’t go unnoticed by you. She pursed her lips and looked back up at you. “Thank you for stitching me up, but I would rather not stay a hostage here any longer. I have more important places to be.”
Your eyes widen and you scoff. “Hostage? Are you fucking serious? By all means you can leave, makes my life ten times easier if you do.” You were lying, you quite enjoyed caring for the handsome samurai, but you would never admit that to her. At least not now. “Good luck walking on that knee by the way, I’m sure it won’t be any trouble for you though.”
You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall as the blue-eyed woman looked you up and down once more before attempting to get up. After a few minutes she was standing, hand against the top of the fireplace to keep her from falling over. You could see her chest rising and falling quickly from the struggle of just standing. She looked back over at you, still leaning with your arms crossed. “Where are my belongings?”
“On the table to your right.” You responded, eyes never leaving hers. You watched her glance over to the table. It was about five feet away; it should’ve been no problem for her to walk over and grab her things. Should’ve. It took her almost ten minutes to reach the edge of the table, her injured leg making it difficult to have a full range of motion. She opted to shuffle inch by inch over to the edge. By the time she got there she was out of breath, looking down at her hands placed on the wood in front of her. You hadn’t moved at all, the only change being your expression shifting from annoyance to amusement as you watched the fit samurai struggle.
After a moment she let out a shaky breath. You saw her knuckles tighten as if she was having an internal battle with herself. “Can you help me back to the mat?” She asked so quietly you almost missed it. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked over to where she stood, taking notice in the way her legs were shaking from lack of use over the past three days. She refused to look at you as you placed her arm over your shoulders and helped guide her back to the mat on the floor. “Thank you.” She muttered.
You looked at her, worry spreading across your features. “Of course. I’m here for anything you need. Consider me your personal caretaker.” You joked. “Although, a good caretaker should know her patients name.” Your words hung in the air for a moment before she responded.
“Mizu.”
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It had been three weeks since Mizu had introduced herself to you. She didn’t talk much about her personal life, which you respected, instead filling the silence between the two of you with your own stories from your childhood. In that time her leg wound had been healing considerably quick, mostly due to the bedrest you ordered her to stay on. The only time she was allowed to move her legs was when she needed to relieve herself or when you would do small stretches with her to keep her blood flow moving. After some time, she was able to get up and walk for short periods of time on her own. The only problem with her quick recovery in her leg was the fact that her chest wound had hardly any progress to it.
Since Mizu couldn’t walk for some time, she exerted all her energy to her upper half, much to your dismay. She would sit up on the mat doing stretches on her arms and shoulders, sometimes raising them so far up you were afraid a stitch was going to pop. It did.
Mizu had been practicing arm movements with her sword, stating that “If I want to achieve my goals, my skills must always be honed and sharp.” Bullshit you thought. She just wanted to aggravate you. How could you tell? The small smirk that would grace her lips whenever she went to pick up her sword, even after you told her it was dangerous, and she could hurt herself anymore. Alas, she was a stubborn woman and it’s how you ended up rushing inside from chopping wood after hearing a sharp yelp from inside your home.
She sat on her mat, one hand clutching the spot above her wound while the other reached for the needle and thread you always kept close by. Once you realized she was going to try to stitch herself back up you rushed over to snatch the needle from her hands and straddle her lap, careful of the wound on her knee. She looked startled for a moment before her whole face turned a deep shade of red once she realized the position you both were in. You had a faint blush as well as you plucked the thread from her hand as well.
“I’m not letting you stitch yourself. You’re going to make your injury worse.” You said looking down at her. She looked up at you with those damn blue eyes you could get lost in for ages, cheeks still red but an amused expression on her face.
“You don’t think I know how to stitch myself up?”
You laughed awkwardly. “Well, no. I just…you just…you just popped a stitch by doing something I told you not to do! How can I be sure you’ll do it correctly?!” Mizu laughed. A sound so beautiful you were sure it would play through your mind for months to come. “I guess you have a point. C’mon then doc, fix me up.” She smirked. You felt your face grow even hotter.
Still straddling her you pushed her robe off her shoulders revealing her chest wraps with blood from the reopened wound soaking through them. You gulped. To stitch her back up you’d have to remove her bindings. And this time she was awake. And would definitely take notice in the way your eyes would roam her chest. Sensing your hesitation, she smiled looking up at you. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen them before, obviously you have, or I wouldn’t have stitches here.” She was teasing you, you realized. “Here I’ll make it easier for you.” Her hand reached around to begin to undo her wraps. You sat there dumbfounded as they fell to the floor and her breasts were exposed to you once again.
“You just gonna stare sweetheart or are you gonna patch me up?” Mizu’s teasing question broke you out of your trance as you swallowed thickly and got to work on restitching her wound. You felt her piercing gaze on you the entire time and did your best to try and ignore the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Later that night after the excitement of the day you sat sipping on your tea while Mizu slept next to the fire. You couldn’t stop thinking about her. Those beautiful blue eyes, the way her lips turned up into a smirk whenever it seemed you were flustered, and the sound of her laugh plagued you. You hadn’t felt like this in a long time.
Suddenly Mizu woke with a gasp, shooting up from the mat. You turned to her startled as you took in her appearance. Eyes wide with fear, chest heaving up and down, and her hands gripping tightly onto her blanket. “Nightmare?” You asked softly as to not startle her even more than she was. She just nodded as she looked at you, eyes bright in the darkness.
You softly rose to your feet, padded over to where was sat up, and sat down next to her. Her eyes had never left your figure as you made your way to her. You looked down at the blanket, then back up to her asking a silent question.
Slowly she lifted the blanket up and laid back down, giving you room to scoot in next to her. You wrapped your arms around her and brought her closer to your chest in the most intimate position the both of you had ever been in. You had never slept as well as you did that night.
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It had been four days since Mizu’s nightmare, and every night since then you two had slept together, arms wrapped around each other. The dynamic between you had changed drastically, lingering touches and glances to each other becoming a new normal.
Tonight was no different to the past few. You lay facing Mizu while her back was turned to the fire, tracing circles into her rough and calloused hands. The silence was comfortable, but you chose to break it in that moment.
“When do you think you’ll leave?” A flash of hurt ran across Mizu’s face.
“I can leave whenever you want me to, I think I’m healed enough by now. Would you like me to leave tomorrow?” Your heart clenched at the sadness in her voice. You didn’t want that at all.
“No,” you whispered. “I don’t want you to leave me. Ever.” Her eyes softened, moving closer to you she brushed her nose against yours.
“Then I won’t.”
Your lips met her soft ones in a searing kiss, one that knocked the air right out of your lungs. You let out at soft noise as she titled her head, running her tongue across your bottom lip to deepen the kiss and ask for permission to enter. You parted your mouth for her, tongues running against each other as she rolled on top of you, straddling your hips. Her fingers ran down your sides and under your top, tips of them brushing the underside of your breasts as you pushed your chest up into her, silently asking for more.
She pulled away from the kiss, a trail of spit the only thing keeping you connected, and smiled. “I’m going to need you to tell me you want more. Tell me you want it and I’ll stay.”
You moaned at her words. “Yes! Mizu please I want it, I need you.” She leaned down to kiss you once those words left your lips, fingers moving up to circle and pinch your hardened nipples. You let out a gasp into Mizu’s mouth at the sensation and she smiled into you, moving her head to trail kisses down your face to your neck, sucking a purple mark just below your ear.
You raised your arms over your head as she stripped you of your top, eyes lingering on your now bare breasts. “Beautiful.” Was all she said. You let out a whimper at her words. She kissed down your shoulders to your breasts and licked a long stripe up your nipple, the sensation causing you to moan and buck your hips up into hers. As she continued her assault on your breasts, her hand traveled lower down your stomach and slipped her hand into your trousers to run a finger through your slick folds.
You were a moaning, withering mess below her at this point. Between her mouth on your tits and her finger slowly brushing against your clit, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. “Please Mizu. I need you, please.” You begged, grinding your hips up into her hand hoping she got the message. She did. Slowly she pushed her middle finger into your wet heat, savoring the noise that left your lips as she did. Experimentally she curled her finger, finding that spongy spot at the front of your walls.
It wasn’t enough for you. “More, I need more.” You whimpered. Smiling against your breast, she pushed another finger in, thrusting at a quicker pace. You were close, she could tell by the way your pussy clenched around her digits. You just needed one last thing to push you over the edge. Removing her mouth from your nipple, she brought her forehead against yours admiring the way your mouth was slightly agape and the furrow between your brows.
“Open your eyes. You’re to look at me when you cum.”
At her words and her thumb suddenly circling your clit matching the pace at which she thrust, your eyes shot open meeting her icy blue ones, the last thread keeping you from falling snapping.
“‘m gonna cum Mizu, fuck m’ gonna fuckfuck-“ You were sent over the edge, cunt clenching and gushing around her fingers while your back arched off the mat, eyes never leaving hers as she guided and talked you through it.
As you caught your breath, chest heaving, she peppered soft kisses all over your face causing you to giggle breathlessly. She smiled down at you as you looked up at her still panting. “Give me a second, let me return the favor.” She leaned down capturing your lips once again as she removed her fingers from your core, wiping the slick on her pants and rolling to lay next to you. She pulled you into her chest and nuzzled her nose into your hair.
“You’ve taken care of me these last few weeks, let me take care of you. We have all the time in the world, I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
And Mizu always kept her promises.
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anyroads · 2 years
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OK you know what, if we're gonna talk about Bake Off then fuck it, let's do this.
It used to be this wholesome, lovely show! We used to watch it for the bakers! And the learning! And the light banter and occasional bit of coy innuendo! What happened?
Channel 4 happened. When they bought the show they made a number of changes, most of them Not Good™️. Not just in the sense of them resulting in a lot of 😬 and 🫠 moments, but in the sense of how they changed the show's purpose, atmosphere, and brand.
Look, I know most people are just like, "whatever, it's just a baking show," and yeah, sure. But it's one of the UK's most successful TV exports, and where it once shifted the tone of reality competition to being wholesome and supportive of contestants, it's since moved towards creating tension at the contestants' cost. So aside from the fact that most people watching it signed up to watch a nice show, it has also shifted the goalposts of what that even means. And that, lovelies and gentlefolk, is some bullshit.
I decided to break my rant analysis into four main parts: theme weeks, the hosts, the judges, and the bakers. Let's get to it!
Theme Weeks:
If you watch Bake Off, you know the show's always had a specific theme for each week. The staples that come up in most seasons are:
cake
biscuit
bread
pudding/dessert
pastry
patisserie
Less common but consistent are things like caramel and chocolate week.
Then there are the fun episodes! When GBBO was on the BBC, this started out with things tea week, tarts, pies, tray bakes, basically little tangents still focused on emphasizing specific baking skills. In Series 6 (still on the BBC) they had their first nation-focused theme week with French week -- fairly innocuous given that a lot of patisserie is French, France and England share much more culture than either cares to admit [Norman Flag dot gif], and it was a nice change from watching Paul make the bakers do recipes that involved boiling things while talking about how wonderful boiled doughs are (are they, Paul? Are they?).
The show kept mixing it up with innocuous themes like advanced dough and alternative ingredients weeks, European cakes, Victorian week, batter week, and botanical week. And while it was frustrating to watch Paul Hollywood mispronounce things like the Hungarian Dobos Torta and lecture bakers on babka when he clearly knew nothing about it (or about Jewish baking in general, go off Past Me), the show's general attitude was that the judges had their own opinions, which were separate from the immutable facts around the chemistry of baking (more on this later) and shouldn't affect how bakers are judged.
After the show moved to Channel 4, the number of themed weeks increased and more of them focused on specific countries. In 6 seasons on the BBC, there were only two country-focused theme weeks, and in 5 seasons on Channel 4 there have been five. And while they've also had themes like vegan baking, roaring 20s, the 1980s, spice week, etc. the show has really started to go hard on exoticizing other cultures in outright disrespectful and racist ways. There's been Italian and Danish week, German, Japanese (it wasn't, it was East Asian week), and now Mexican week (which doesn't touch on interspersed Jewish bakes that didn't get a theme week, like versions of bagels and babka set as technical challenges that were borderline hate crimes and mansplained by a guy who has no idea how to make either and once wrote in a cookbook that challah was traditionally eaten during Passover). Each time the hosts played up the theme with racist bits and jokes that can be used as evidence in court if your case is "why should shows with scripted content have a professional writing staff."
Which touches on other issues the show has now...
The Hosts:
When GBBO was on the BBC, the show was hosted by ✨Mel Giedroyc✨ and ✨Sue Perkins✨. They encouraged the bakers! They'd hold stuff for them sometimes! They were interested in them! If a baker had a breakdown, they would start singing copyrighted material to render the footage unusable! When the show moved to Channel 4, they left, though I'm not unconvinced that Channel 4 offered them impossible to accept contracts to force them out so they could rebrand the show. They replaced them with Sandy Toksvig and Noel Fielding. Sandy was a lovely host in the vein of Mel and Sue, and she and Noel had a relatively sweet rapport, but she left a few seasons ago and was replaced by Matt Lucas.
Noel Fielding is mostly known for his quirky brand of comedy, a sort of British Zooey Deschanel who's goth from the neck up, an upperclass British gay divorcee from the neck down, and basically an early 60s Beatle re: trousers. Matt Lucas has almost definitely never watched a single episode of GBBO and his most redeeming quality is his thinly veiled contempt for Paul Hollywood.
The two treat the baking tent as their personal playground. Far from the supportive attitude of Mel and Sue, they tend to get in the bakers' way during the most stressful moments, especially when they try to do hilarious "comedy" bits (I can't not put that in quotes) like Noel's talking wooden spoon thing, or Matt talking over Noel to do time calls. During theme weeks like Japanese and Mexican week, they do culture-specific bits that are both racist ("just Juan joke" and "is Mexico a real place?") and unsurprising, given that both Matt and Noel did blackface on their respective sketch shows and absolutely could and should have known better because it was already the current fucking century.
All this to say, there's now a separation between the bakers and the hosts, as if they're on different shows. The hosts are doing their own thing and the bakers are doing GBBO. The show has gotten meaner to the bakers, and the hosts aren't there to support them anymore, they're just there to be comic relief. Because when you refocus your show on stressing the bakers the fuck out, you need a forced laugh I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
The Judges:
First of all, a sincere congratulations to Paul Hollywood who managed to squeeze I jUsT cAmE bAcK fRoM mExIcO aNd YeT sTiLL pRoNoUnCe PiCo De GaLLo As 'PiKa De KaLLa' and I aM aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS wHiCh aRe MaDe WiTh DiGeStiVe BiScUiTs AcCoRdiNg tO mE, aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS, just two in a giant pile of astoundingly wrong hot takes, into a short enough time span that they all aired within Liz Truss's term as Prime Minister. A true man of accomplishments.
In the interest of fairness, I need to preface this with a disclaimer that, due to the fact that I've been watching Bake Off for most of its run, I'm biased. Specifically, I can't stand Paul Hollywood's smarmy, classist, egomaniac ass because he's proven time and again he's more interested in looking smart than actually knowing what he's talking about. Since the show moved to Channel 4, they've changed the occasional handshake Paul would give bakers to the HoLlYwOoD hAnDsHaKe™️. It's gone from being an emphasis of someone's skill to a goal, a reward, and one that emphasizes the judges' place above the bakers.
The judges used to function as teachers, imparting their skills and insights to the bakers. When the show was on the BBC, the voiceover leading to a judging would focus on the bakers' work being finished, saying how it will now be evaluated based on their skill and how well they met the brief. The voiceovers now, on Channel 4, focus on the judging (literally saying something along the lines of, "the bakers will now be judged by Prue and Paul"). There is a clear distinction Channel 4's producers have made, to mark that the show is now about whether or not the judges approve, not whether the brief was understood and executed well. On the BBC, it was irrelevant whether the judges liked a particular flavor, as long as the bake was well-made. Now, the bakers are expected to know the judges tastes and cater to them, which is frankly bullshit. A judge doesn't have to like a flavor to know whether or not it was executed well, ie. is it carrying a bake and was it meant to etc.
The judges have been turned into a brand. Cynically, Channel 4 knows that by building them up and focusing the show more on them, they can exploit their image more for profit. In the process, they've become much more biased and their own biases have come out as well. Most recently in the flaming dumpster fire that was Mexican Week, Paul Hollywood tried to intimidate a baker by telling them he had just gotten back from Mexico (which must have been a fruitful learning trip if he couldn't even learn how to pronounce pico de gallo correctly). Where do I even start with this? Here's an amateur baker from England (the show specifically casts middle and lower middle class bakers for the most part??) who likely can't afford trips to Mexico, who lives in a country with incredibly limited access to Mexican cuisine, who is expected not only to understand the cooking and baking traditions of a completely different culture but to do so well enough to play with it and do something creative with it. On top of which, one of the judges is now using his privilege of traveling halfway around the world as some kind of leverage, as if this were a bar that any amateur British baker could clear.
Prue, meanwhile, has openly asserted her biases against cultural flavors and textures, prioritizing her own personal preferences over them, as if they were in any way relevant to the skills and knowledge necessary to execute the tasks she sets to the bakers. She has also been consistently elitist, criticizing bakers for choices they made that were clearly informed by their experiences within income brackets that are too low and foreign for Prue to comprehend. She once had a go at a baker on a Christmas special because his Christmas dinner themed bake didn't have a turkey, even though it was clear from the stories he shared of his own Christmases that his family likely couldn't afford one. "It's not really Christmas dinner without a turkey," Prue said into the camera angrily while sitting on a chair made of live orphans and telling the ghost of Christmas Future to come back when he had another museum gift shop necklace for her to round out her collection.
The show is no longer about which baker has the best skills. It's become about which mortal can appease the gods of Mount Olympus, ie. the judges.
The Bakers:
Remember when the show was about them? Channel 4 doesn't! Because this is a reality competition show, the bakers are chosen both based on their skills, as well as cast-ability. They're cast as characters, distinct from each other, from different areas, age groups, ethnicities. All of them are amateurs. All of them are middle or lower middle class. They've ranged from college students to supermarket cashiers to prison wardens to scientists.
Something I noticed when the show moved to Channel 4 is that the baker who goes home in the first week is always wildly behind the rest in skills. I have no proof of this other than my eyeballs and deductive reasoning skills, but I think that Channel 4 deliberately casts a ringer each season who they think will be an easy send-off in the first week, just to get the audience's feet wet.
Anyway, like I said, this show used to be about the bakers - about them building skills and learning, and having walked into the tent with a self-taught foundation and understanding of the processes and chemical reactions involved in baking. When the show was on the BBC, the end of each round had some (often brief) moments of tension - will they finish in time? Will they get their bakes on the plate before time is up? Did they forget to add sugar to their batter and only remember at the last minute? In the end, they usually managed to finish and we'd all breathe a sigh of relief and think, yeah! You go, Bakers Who I'm Rooting For!
Now, on Channel 4, the end of round drama has been stretched to be so much longer that they've composed extra music for it. The bakers often seem out of their depth, whether because the instructions for the technical challenge are too vague (bake a lemon meringue pie??? As if anyone in the UK under the age of 60 has had one in the last decade???), or because they were expected to bake something that required a more than a basic foundation they weren't told of. Often it seems like they just aren't given enough time, a tactic used by reality competition shows to manipulate contestants into giving the cameras more dramatic content. On top of all this, the hosts get in their way, instead of helping them plate their bakes. As has been pointed out before, when everyone fails the challenge, the real failure lies with whoever set it.
In conclusion:
The show no longer exists to teach the bakers - and the audience - skills or knowledge. It now manipulates contestants for dramatic effect and prioritizes showing conflict over wholesome content. Channel 4 sees the bakers as social media content they can churn out season after season, and don't care about them because in a few months there'll be a new batch to exploit. Meanwhile, the judges are also out of their depth, co-opting recipes from other cultures and butchering them horrendously, while the camera gives them nothing but status as they hold bakers to the expectation that they learn how to make things very much the wrong way. If you saw any of the tweets about Mexican or Japanese week, or read my post on how Paul Hollywood isn't allowed to go near babka ever again, you'll understand.
So what would fix all this? Scrap the current judges and the hosts altogether. Bring back Mel and Sue, and replace the judges with expert bakers who have a love of their craft and want to share it with others. The draw of GBBO used to be its warmth and comfort - if Channel 4 isn't going to start its own version of Master Chef For Bakers, then it needs to stop trying to find a balance of how it can insert that vibe into GBBO. It can't. That's not a thing. Stop trying.
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mockerycrow · 8 months
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Talk About Sensitivity In The COD Fandom **Important.**
THIS IS NOT A DEBATE POST. DO NOT BOTHER.
Hey, everyone. After the reveal of Makarov in the trailer (as well as general concern), I think a chat about sensitivity is important. Since the trailer’s release, I have seen a major increase in simping for Makarov posts as well as genuine romanticization of Russia and/or Russian Soldiers. First, I want to talk about the romanticization of Russia and/or Russian soldiers because it’s seriously getting out of hand. I need you guys to realize that Russia is an ultranationalist country and yes, maybe not everyone who lives there believes what their government does, but it’s important to know a big portion of their population does. I have seen multiple posts and edits of this man right here (pictures below).
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THIS GUY IS NOT SOMEONE YOU SHOULD LIKE, AND PEOPLE NEED TO UNDERSTAND THAT HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU. This is one of the most popular Russian Soldiers amongst the internet due to the way he wears a mask, gear, has an accent, and is buff. He makes videos teaching soldiers how to kill people—innocent people in Ukraine who are just trying to survive. I have seen people straight up ignore when someone tells them what this man has done, so let me put it this way—he does not like you. He wants you dead. He is racist, a homophobe, transphobe, antisemitic, etc. He absolutely hates The West, and he does not like you unless you are a cis, straight, white 100% Russian. Even if you’re a woman, he DOES NOT LIKE YOU. If you American, HE DOES NOT WANT YOU ALIVE.
[This part is not targeted; just a general statement.] Second; there is a serious problem with how you guys address Makarov as a character. There is absolutely no problem enjoying him as a villain because I do too, but you guys have to realize that Makarov is an ultranationalist—which is exactly what Russia is right now, an ultranationalist terrorist state. “But he’s fictional, it doesn’t matter! it’s not that deep!” It actually is that deep. I keep seeing content for Makarov and I can’t force anyone to stop making “fluffy fics”, but I need y’all to have some fucking decency towards victims and people affected by the war. I know people who are affected by the war who feel ill seeing posts painting Makarov in a good light. If you are going to write Makarov, do NOT romanticize him as a character—do NOT paint him a decent or good light, because you can’t. Write him like the bastard he is. And no, this isn’t a “let people write what they wanna write” situation. You can do that, but please be expected to be judged and blocked by me and many others. Makarov is quite literally the characterization of everything that is wrong with Russia, and what HAS been wrong with Russia. Makarov is not a bad boy, a rebel, etc, he’s a fucking terrorist. Please be for real. “But the military in general is bad, so why does it matter specifically around Makarov?” Please see above my previous reasons. Thanks.
The overall message of this point is to be fucking respectful. There are actual people dying and slaughtered for no reason other than ruined pride and a lot of Ukrainian folk seek comfort and distractions in the internet and their fandoms. This ruins it for them and quite frankly, sometimes how Makarov is being written? It’s completely insensitive. Anyway, below are a few links where you can directly support the efforts and the people of Ukraine. Peace and love, and please write with critical thinking.
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hxltic · 1 year
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“YOU’VE NEVER SQUIRTED?” KENMA
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part 1 | part 2
It was actually a really awkward conversation in the kitchen of his apartment. The fresh toast sizzled against your fingers as you removed it from the toaster, the sun shined bright through his black curtains without quit, and because it was in his disposition to be up ungodly hours, you incorrectly assumed he’d hibernate in his room so you planned to head to your friend’s house for breakfast in a full face and clothes you never wore. Or technically, a full face and clothes you only wore out to places you cared about. Otherwise, you didn’t really dress to impress.
500 FOLLOWERS?!
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Footsteps sounded from afar and you retrieved the jelly from the fridge mindlessly.
“Where we going?”
Kenma taunted from his seat found on the island stool. You assumed he’d just woken up, accompanied with doing his daily hygiene because his soft voice still had the slightest rasp to it.
“We?” You jokingly snapped back. Kenma scoffed lightheartedly at you. The refrigerator door closed with a slight push, and Kenma sighed to where he could ask again. Some almost fully black stands came to fall in front of his face as he leaned forward on the cold, stone counter and his hair was pulled into a small ponytail, nothing left of the noticeable blonde but disproportional ends that fall into his large hoodie.
“Where are you going?”
You grab the plate but forget the juice for the morning. Back you go to the fridge almost in a rush.
“I’m going to a friend’s for breakfast, it’s this party thing she hosts every year,” you explain. “Almost like a friendsgiving. She takes it suuuuper serious.”
The juice is in one hand, a random cup in another. You twist around to pour the liquid on the island instead of the main countertop so you could engage in quick conversation with Kenma. As he got older he’s become more expressive and outgoing, just willingly reserved. He has, however, become a handful; and having lived with him, you’ve seen him take shots like a champ. You see his aloofness dissolve, his eyebrow coming up the slightest bit.
“And you’re eating breakfast before going to eat breakfast?” He slowed the pace of his words around the end of the sentence like he was judging you.
“I have to eat in the morning still, or I’ll pass out before I even get there Kenma! I’m kinda a little late though so you can heckle me when I get back.”
“Uhuh…”
Kenma hummed in response with an inconspicuous smirk on his face. You wouldn’t have even seen it if it weren’t for you waiting to see his reaction of your flawless vocabulary. He was however, changing his position to leaning back in the chair, already staring you incredulously. It was somewhat close to a manspread, his hands were tucked into the hoodie pockets, and the sight was way too much for you to handle this early in the morning.
So, you turned around to tend to your idle plate with jelly-less toast on it. You didn’t like Kenma specifically, persay, you would’ve liked it if any boy looked at you like that. Yeah. Don’t think too much about it.
Anyway, with the slide of a drawer you withdrew the knife and got to work. Unbeknownst to you, Kenma had not taken his eyes off your body. Your hair was still slightly wet but it made it easier for you to style. It was up. The backless halter top you wore was connected only by a string at your nape, and it left skin between that and your skinny jeans that fell down to your open toe, clear strap heels. You were dressed perfect for the summer occasion of a girls day out. And he was absolutely sulking in it.
“You look good.”
You hate the slight pause in your actions. You hate the way you had to question if he was talking to you or not, even if you were the only one in the house. You hate that you refuse to turn around to him. You hate the giddy smile that decorated your face. You hate that you had to cover up how everything you hated affected you, so you say “Thank you; flatter me more.”
He just outwardly chuckled, and ended with a “Maybe.” He starts again, “Hey is this who you were on the phone with last night? Who’s at the party I mean.”
“Hm?” Your chin did lead over your shoulder at this. “Yes actually, I’m surprised I’m up as early as I am considering she kept me up all night.” You resume.
“Tell her I said she should break up with him.”
You agree, “I will; she definitely needs to hear it.”
Suddenly, you snap your head back around quick enough to give you whiplash. You don’t get embarrassed easily, but you had to be blushing like a bitch.
This time Kenma’s smirk was very noticeable. You blink warily at him.
“Ken… how much did you hear?” Your voice was soft with curiosity mixed and thrown into fear. He just shrugged casually and quickly switched to an innocent façade. One thing you learned about him over the years: he has a badass poker face. And he’s a dick.
Such a dick, in fact, that after reassuring “I wasn’t eavesdropping so I didn’t hear much,” he let you take deep breaths of relief and turn back around to lather your second piece of toast. You felt the golden, low, cat-like eyes burning through the back of your head—so with indecision and obscurity—you looked over your shoulder again. He wore a shit eating grin.
You pointed the butterknife at him accusingly.
“You fucking liar! You heard all of it!!”
Kenma just smiled menacingly.
“I did hear all of it actually; but pushing that aside, why do I feel like I’ve never heard you say some of the words you said?” He tilts his head to the side, completely dismissing you.
“Kenma!?”
“Say pussy.”
This made you stop. You found him unbelievable, and you’d never admit what hearing him say pussy does to your mind, but his head was sideways in pure amusement like he was waiting on you to do it.
“Kenma. What.”
“Say it.”
You just stared at each other.
“Pussy,” you finally repeated. After lingering in the air a bit Kenma’s eyes went wide and he threw his head back to diminish into laughter.
“Kenmaaa.” You groaned loudly. He only laughed harder. “What all did you hear? Seriously!”
He calmed down to just a grin and ushered you to be as well with the palm of his hand.
“Okay okay—mainly the part where she explains how she hates the guy because she feels like he ignores her and has never made her cum—plus some other stuff, blah blah, that’s basically it,” He rambles.
It was your turn for your eyes to run wide, so in astonishment that your body couldn’t even address the other words that rolled out his mouth so easy. “I don’t want basically, I want all of it,” you declare.
“There’s not much more unless you’re including all the other dumb shit he did? Like how he told his friends she did something even if she didn’t, and she felt invalidated about it. I have amazing input on these types of situations by the way.”
Kenma was saying all this without any negative emotion, relaying it to you with normalcy. “The only thing after that was about yourself.”
You roll your eyes, but bingo. So he did hear it. He heard what you didn’t want him to. Your face may have dropped a tiny bit.
“…What was it? About how…I have—“
“—never squirted?” He finishes. Your chest tightened a little, and your face was red with what was anger transforming into something else. His ordinary apathetic gaze was locked on yours for a tiny moment, so you made it your responsibility to look away and grab your food.
“Gotta go now, I’m already late.” You swiftly unhooked the keys from the wall and opened the door. It wasn’t his fault he heard (because to be honest you two weren’t the quietest last night during your girl talk), but just now the fact that he knew upset you. Your best friend made it seem so easy, like she does it all the time, and it just made you seem like you were missing out how she explained it.
However, on your way out, Kenma did call for you from the kitchen. “Not everyone can do it,” He said. It was reassurance, you assume, but it didn’t really come off as such. He then says (more to himself you also assume), “Not everyone can make you do it either.”
This sat with you the whole breakfast/brunch party, champagne being passed around like candy but nothing could stop you from thinking about it. Of course it being a whole room of the closest friends, she re-explained last night’s gossip, the effects hitting you again as your friends chimed in on the situation. Was it really as good as they say?
——•——
You unlocked the house door, the apartment dim and quiet. It was around four now, you weren’t completely sober, and your heels clacked along the tile.
Dropping your arm to sit your purse on the counter and hang the keys, you undo a single strap and slip the shoes off. You carry them in your hand for the journey to your room.
Of course before you can reach your door, there’s Kenma’s slightly cracked open one to remind you of what he said. Not everyone can make you do it either.
What does that even mean; can’t you do it alone? Do you need someone else for it?
You weren’t dumb and at least knew what he was implying. It was an offer. Or maybe it wasn’t, and you’re just horny. Either way you find yourself stopped in front of the entrance to his room. You don’t bother to knock, it falls open with a slight push of your free hand.
Kenma resides at his setup, on his phone, the mic wrapped around his neck. The few moving lights in his room softly radiated from his pc, making him appear to be different strong shades of red and orange depending on when you looked. He didn’t seem to be streaming. Or he could be—he isn’t the nicest to his viewers.
He casts you a glance past his hair but dismisses your presence. You don’t really ever come into his room except to just grab something and go, usually a hair product.
You take a few steps inside. Then, you leisurely drop the heels at his bedside so he finally acknowledges your company.
“Ken?” Your delicate voice breaks the silence of the outside, completely unsure if there was music running through his headphones.
He clicks his phone off so you have his full attention.
“What’s up? How was it?”
You continued taking slow steps forward, with only one thing on your mind. And it wasn’t the party. “It was okay.”
Kenma surveys how you have yet to halt, inching closer and closer to him. It only took a slight examination of your face to see the solemnity. Blankness. He stands up from his seat and removes the headset from himself in concern before you can get any closer.
“You sure? You don’t look—“
“—Kenma. What did you say earlier?” You whisper. He was now directly in front of you.
He pauses for a second and his face converts to disbelief. “Are we still talking about the squirt thing?” He smiles mischievously, “I was just letting you know not to worry about it so much.”
You hate that word. It’s so gross sounding, so vulgar. But you can’t bring yourself to get him to stop saying it.
“Well I have been, so what happens now?” You peer strangely at each other, both acutely aware of where this was going.
“And you’re coming to me for this, why?” The ravenette taunts. He knew exactly why you were in his room right now, the curiosity having ate away at you all day. Like an itch that won’t go. You’ve gotta give in if this’ll go anywhere.
“Well you seem to know a lot about it…” you fumble with your bracelet nervously. You’ve gotten this far. “Could you…maybe help me?”
Kenma makes no sudden movements. He scans you suspiciously. A slight flush of red may have spread across your cheeks, but the darkness around you was protective. Hearing it actually come out of your mouth was a whole different story than imagining it.
“You want me to make you squirt?” He confirmed.
You may have physically cringed at that sentence because his hands find his sweat pockets in a ‘you said it not me’ manner.
“Yes.”
He scanned you again for good measure.
“Alright.”
With this he turned on his heel, stepped away, and sat in his gaming chair again. You stood there blankly, unaware of what to do. “Come here.”
You follow him to his setup. He sighs because he could see how uncomfortable you were.
“What usually do you do to get off?” He questions. He twists you around by your hips, your back facing him.
“Uh…It’s just kinda alone in my room I guess. I use my fingers usually.” You tried to keep your voice low enough to cure your embarrassment. Kenma, however, seemed to be doing this with ease. In fact, as he was asking you questions, he massaged your hips and waist soothingly.
“Is that it? You don’t watch or think about anything?”
You turn your head, “No. Am I supposed to?”
“I mean it’s not mandatory but you gotta think about something.”
“Whatever. Jeez, Kenma just say you think about me already.” You quip. Whatever he was doing was working, you were loosening up.
“Only when I’m about to cum. How do you like to be talked to?”
What?
You weren’t even going to ask about it. It was probably a joke anyway.
A moment of processing silence passed. “I don’t really know how I like to be talked to. Guys have tried to praise or degrade me but it never worked, so I just assumed I didn’t like the talk at all.”
He tugs on the shirt string at your neck. He watches you tense up at the action, so he rubs your trap in slow, circular motions instead. “If I say I like to be praised, all they do is say ‘good girl’ over and over. Gets kinda boring you know?” Is this you venting to Kenma about your boring sex life? Of course. You mess with your nails as you face away from him. Not for long though, because he turns you around.
“This is what I meant by not everyone can make you do it. Only you can guarantee yourself the highest pleasure 100% of the time,” Kenma drags you by your belt loops so you fall into the chair against him, “and me.”
He was so close now, your knees sliding under the chair arm. His breath could be felt on your skin and his hands were still pawing at your waist to glide up your back. You couldn’t bring yourself to put your full weight on him. However, he pulls you down anyway, and manually places your hands along his clothed chest so you could calm down. That was all he wanted from you right now. To relax and to take deep breaths.
“Warnings would be great Ken.”
“Yeah, but you said you don’t like to talk.”
“I don’t.”
“So should I warn you about how hard you make me dressed up like that?”
You moderately gasped at the comment placed right into your collarbone. You pressed down a tiny bit farther to see if you could feel it. You could. His breath fanned against your body and airy kisses lead.
You wonder where all of Kenma’s shyness over the years went because now you would never have guessed him to be like this. The friction fuels him to push you more.
Kenma could go on and on about these random intrusive thoughts he only gets at night—the only time where you seem to engulf his brain. Living with you over the years has been fine with zero temptation, but recently, it’s been like a hormone specifically for you snapped in his body. He feels the way you roll your hips the smallest bit for yourself. You liked the talk, just not the guys.
Soft fingers pull on a single string near your hair, releasing your breasts from the top as the fabric folded downwards between the two of you.
©️ hxltic
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roosterforme · 2 months
Text
Covering the Classics Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Bob is happy for his friends, but feeling like the fifth wheel every weekend has gotten old. Anna's main goal is to fly under the radar as she starts work at San Diego State University with her shiny, new graduate degree. She is convinced that the only company she needs is her own, but a specific flyer in the faculty lounge catches her interest.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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Bob hated it when Natasha was deployed without him. He always ended up feeling like the fifth wheel now that Bradley was married and Jake was dating Jessica. Well, both of those were actually understatements. Bradley was devoted to his wife, and Jake was soppy now that Jessica moved in with him. And Bob's feelings on the matter were never more evident than on nights out at the Hard Deck. 
Without fail, a girl or two or three would hit on one of the other guys, and they would deftly try to pawn said girl off on Bob only for the girl to look rather disappointed and kind of wander away. He just had that effect on women. He was a lot better with the written word than with the spoken, and something just didn't translate well for him when he was met face-to-face with an intriguing smile and an attractive body.
He groaned as he watched another woman head off in the direction of the bar as soon as he nervously stumbled his way through a sentence where he tried to introduce himself. How exactly was he supposed to compete with Jake Seresin anyway? Nobody who originally wanted him was going to settle for Bob. 
"I got you more peanuts." Bob looked up to see Bradshaw's wife smiling at him and holding out a cup. Ever since he visited Chippy's bar, he didn't want to admit to Penny that hers weren't quite as good, but if someone went out of their way to bring him a cup full, he was going to eat them. And it was also nice of her to make sure he was included tonight while Mickey was babysitting his nephews.
"Thank you," he replied softly, and she patted his shoulder.
"I saw you talking to that girl?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bar. "She's really cute."
Bob shook his head as he looked down at his ginger ale. "I mean, yes, she was very pretty, but I wasn't really talking to her. She didn't want to talk to me, actually." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked up at her from his stool. "She wanted to talk to Jake."
She rolled her eyes, and Bob kept his fingers occupied by cracking open a peanut. He craved the familiar intimacy he saw when he looked at his friends and their partners. Maybe jealousy wasn't the right word, but he always felt left out of the loop. They all knew something he didn't, and he craved to be on the inside with someone of his own.
"I'd choose you over Jake any day, Bob. You're smart, and I like talking to you."
He smiled at her as he said, "That may be the case, but you'd choose Bradley over me."
"You got me there," she said with a laugh as she kissed his cheek, making him avert his eyes to the floor. "I'm probably not the best judge of character though."
Bob looked toward where she was smiling now and saw Bradley with his hideous tie dye shirt and idiotic looking backwards baseball cap as Jessica slaughtered him in a game of pool. "Yes, you are," Bob told her quietly. Because as soon as Bradley looked at his wife, his expression became one of complete wonder. 
"Sugar! Come here! Jessica is being mean to me again!"
She squeezed Bob's shoulder and then took him by the hand, bringing him along with her to the pool table. He blushed again as he looked a little nervously at Bradley, but everyone knew Bob was harmless. He was the one just drinking a ginger ale since he had to drive home.
"Baby," Bradley whined. "She won't even let me try to make a shot."
"That's not her being mean to you. That's her being better than you," his wife replied. "And what's the moral of the story again?"
"Women should never be underestimated," Bradley and Jake said in unison.
"That's right," Jessica said as she sunk the 8-ball into one of the corner pockets. "Especially ones who have a PhD and tenure." She handed her pool cue to Bradley and did a little dance. Then she reached into Bob's cup of peanuts and said, "Chippy's are better."
"They are," he agreed with a nod and a grin. He cleared his throat as Bradshaw's wife finally dropped his hand. "So I heard the new semester starts on Monday?"
"Yes," Jessica gushed as she fixed her glasses. "And Brian took a position at the community college, so this should be my best semester yet."
Bob already knew that Jake was relieved that his girlfriend would be going to work in a more comfortable environment every day, but it was nice to see how excited she was. 
"You know what I was thinking?" Jessica asked Bradshaw's wife quietly. Bob wondered if he should step away and give them some privacy, but they both kept helping themselves to the cup of peanuts. "Maybe we could put something up on the notice board in the main building, kind of inviting the other female teachers at the school to have lunch together one day? I felt so embarrassed and excluded from things because of Brian, I just thought it might be nice for anyone else who feels marginalized?"
Bradley's wife nodded. "I think that's a great idea."
Bob listened to them for a few more minutes before he wished them good luck as they started back to school for the fall term, and then he excused himself for the night. He stood outside in the dark parking lot for a few minutes and listened to the sound of the ocean before he climbed into his truck and headed for his silent house. 
--------------------------
"Dr. Webber."
Anna looked at the name placard on her office door and bounced up and down. "Dr. Webber," she read out loud again. She had the worst office on campus, no doubt about that. It was miniscule and kind of smelled like stale bread since it was so close to the cafeteria, but she loved it. All of the shelves were crammed with her books, and she could lock the rest of the world out when she needed a minute to herself. She just hoped that the tiny office wasn't a sign of bad things to come after San Diego State University willingly hired her less than a month before the start of the term.
In a matter of eight weeks, she had finally- finally- graduated with her PhD in English Literature and secured a job on the other side of the country. She sold everything she could think of, including her rings, and moved from gloomy New Jersey to a studio apartment in sunny southern California. Sure, all she had in her kitchen was a toaster oven and a mini fridge, but she was on her own. She had nobody to answer to. And she never would again.
"I guess everything is smaller here," Anna told herself as she locked her office door and went in search of the classroom where she would be holding the first lecture of her teaching career. She was too early for the class, but she was filled with nervous energy and decided that walking around would help. 
She looked in classrooms and listened to a poetry lecture on the third floor. She found a really secluded ladies' bathroom as well as a reading nook. Eventually, she and her copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn managed to wander all the way to the main building where she found a faculty lounge.
It smelled like coffee, and there were snacks out on the counter, and everyone was talking in pairs or small groups. She should probably get to know her colleagues, but she also didn't mind the anonymity that came with observing everyone without engaging. She was good at that, and she'd spend too much time around people who needed to be in the spotlight all the time. As she reached for a donut with pink frosting, she saw a notice board across the room and went to take a look. 
The hum of conversation around her was comforting as she read about a yoga class in the quad, alumni night, and a teacher appreciation banquet. Then her eyes caught on a single piece of paper with a plain black font. It wasn't flashy, and somehow it reminded her of a page from a favorite book.
WELCOME BACK FOR THE FALL SEMESTER, LADIES!
If you're interested in getting to know some other women who work on campus, let's meet for a friendly lunch on the first Tuesday of the term! Noon in the quad next to the weird tree.
Anna laughed. She knew where the quad was, but she wasn't sure which tree was the weird one. They actually all seemed a bit out of place to her since she wasn't used to living near palm trees. She started to skim a notice about how to recycle old textbooks, but she didn't get far before she was re-reading the one about meeting up for lunch. 
If it was truly meant just for women, then it sounded kind of nice. She could eat her sandwich outside. She liked weird trees. The idea of having zero men around made it even more appealing. The last thing she wanted was to develop an interest in anyone right now. Or maybe ever again. 
She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the page before checking the time and leaving with her donut. Twenty minutes later, with her class assembled before her in a small lecture hall, she cleared her throat and said, "Welcome to English 205. I'm Dr. Webber, and this semester we will be covering the classics."
------------------------
"You can do this. You'll be fine," Anna said as she walked slowly across the quad toward a palm tree that looked like it somehow started growing sideways about six feet up from the ground. "It's just some people."
But she wasn't good with people. Kevin had been quick to tell her that all the time. He liked to point out that she was awkward unless she was talking about literature or poetry or something from the New York Times bestseller list. Apparently she didn't know how to talk about normal things. Her hands started to sweat as she held onto her brown paper bag and can of ginger ale. 
"Oh god," she groaned as she got a little closer. Truly, there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just two women smiling as they talked to each other with their lunches. But they were both beautiful. Like the kind of stunning girls that Anna was always afraid to talk to when she was a teenager. One was wearing a suit and high heels, and the other was wearing cute brown loafers and some tweed, and she felt like her own outfit looked awful now by comparison. 
It wasn't too late to just walk past them and loop back toward her office and never try to socialize again. "Yes, let's do that." She nodded and picked up the pace a little bit. She could turn left at the weird tree and then maybe even make a run for it. "What are you doing?" she whispered, slowing down again. It was one thing to swear off men, but it wasn't going to be an enjoyable existence if she never tried to make a single friend here.
With a deep breath, she forced herself forward, and then soon two sets of eyes were on her. All she saw was matching smiles as she approached and said, "Hi. I'm Anna Webber. Is this the weird tree?"
"It's the weirdest tree I've ever seen," said the first woman as the other one jumped to her feet. 
"Hi! Are you here for lunch?" she asked as she adjusted her glasses. "I told you someone would come," she whispered to the first woman before sticking her hand out. "I'm Jessica Reed! I work in the physics department, and this is my friend, and we are so, so happy you're joining us."
Anna smiled at how bubbly she was as she briefly shook her hand. "I just got here," she said with a wince. "I mean... it's my second day working here? I just got hired. In the English department. I'm teaching literature." God, could she sound like any more of an idiot right now?
But Jessica gasped in response. "Advanced Literature!" Then both women squealed, and soon the other one was introducing herself and talking about the math department and pointing out a building Anna had never been inside yet.
"It's silly, we know, but we kind of have code names for each other. I'm Advanced Calculus, and Jessica is Advanced Physics. You can be Advanced Literature. If you want." Now she looked a little uncertain while Jessica bounced in her high heels. "Wow, we sound like absolute nerds."
"We are nerds," Jessica confirmed with no shame as she looked at Anna. "I collect scientific journals. She uses math as foreplay with her husband. Do you want to eat lunch with us, Anna?"
Her response came with an ease that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Yes. Please." Then both women were shifting their lunches down and making room in the middle of the bench. Anna took a seat and watched Advanced Calculus pick a carrot stick out of the most beautifully organized lunch container she'd ever seen. She also had a tie dyed lunch box that was charming in a hideous way.
"How's your first week going?" Jessica asked as she bit into a delicious looking sandwich on fancy, multigrain bread. Anna knew she didn't fit in here at all as she pulled a plain turkey sandwich and some peanuts from her bag, but it was all she could afford right now. 
"Well," she said with a sigh. "It's better than New Jersey."
Both women squealed again. "You're from the east coast!"
"Yeah," she replied as she opened her ginger ale. "I grew up in New Jersey. I went to college and grad school in New Jersey. I attempted to move to New York, and then somehow I ended up here." She left out the heartbreaking parts about Kevin, because he didn't really belong in a conversation where she was surprisingly kind of enjoying herself. 
She learned the two women were from Massachusetts and Virginia, and that they both had PhDs from prestigious universities. They were both in committed relationships with naval aviators who also happened to work together. And both of the men loved packing their ladies lunches. 
"Lucky," Anna muttered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and thought about the kitchen in her studio apartment. It was so small, it almost didn't exist. She was almost thirty and essentially still lived in a dormitory. How sad.
"Hey," Jessica said suddenly. "If you like peanuts, you'd probably love Chippy's!"
"What's Chippy's?" Anna asked curiously.
"Eww, no. Don't listen to Jess. Chippy's is a disgusting dive bar on the other side of campus."
"It's not disgusting! He just doesn't clean the floor."
Anna laughed. "I actually do love peanuts, but I'm not a big drinker." Then both women silently studied her, and she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. She'd said something wrong already. Of course things couldn't be this easy.
"Huh. You like ginger ale," said Advanced Calculus as she sat paused with a carrot stick halfway to her mouth.
Anna nodded as she said, "My... well, a guy I know used to make fun of me for being a ginger and loving ginger ale." She gestured to her auburn hair which was clipped up at the back of her head. 
"Are you married? Or in a relationship?" she asked, and she finally bit into the carrot. 
Anna didn't even have a chance to reply as Advanced Physics gasped on her other side. "You like peanuts. And ginger ale. How do you feel about men with glasses?"
"How do you feel about men with greenish blue eyes?" 
"How do you feel about sweet men who blush?"
"Would you ever date a guy in the Navy?"
"Are you fond of beat up pickup trucks and country boys?"
"Do you want to come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"
Anna was starting to get whiplash as she looked back and forth between the two of them. "Wait, I'm sorry. What? I thought we were talking about a place called Chippy's?"
"We were. But now we're talking about a man called Bob."
-----------------------
Omg omg omg. Okay, here we are with a story for our lovable Bob. Thanks for reading about the Sugarverse. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 2
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Note
Just like how kalim embodies scarabia's mindfulness in his own way, how do you think other boys embodies their respective dorms spirit?
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For the sake of ease and consistency, I will be using the official TWST localization's terms for each dorm's core value.
Please note: these are my personal interpretations; even the definitions of each dorm’s “spirit” is not explicitly defined within official TWST materials, so I’ll be running with my own definitions before covering each NRC student. Additionally, since I’ll be covering 22 characters in this post I may not have time to get into painstaking detail for each one.
***Main story spoilers (including late book 7) below the cut!!***
The Queen of Hearts' Spirit of Strictness
Literally speaking, strictness refers to following rules or beliefs exactly. There is rigid enforcement of these rules or beliefs, and very few, if any, exceptions or mercy granted.
Right off the bat, it’s easy to see how Riddle aligns with the spirit of strictness. He is the embodiment the law in Heartslabyul, serving as both judge and executioner to his students. Riddle insists that the rules—no matter how nonsensical—be followed, and he does not hesitate to unleash his wrath and collar those who step out of line. He is strictness itself. Beyond book 1, we do see Riddle trying to be more patient and flexible—however, the fact remains that he upholds rules and continues to have trouble with circumstances where he has to think independently or without a set of instructions to refer to.
Trey is known for frequently indulging others and behaving in a manner which some may call kind. The twist here is that Trey’s strictness is present in the “big brother” role he adopts when dealing with his peers. He’s generally more lenient than Riddle, but Trey often alludes to the fact that he shouldn’t be underestimated or thought of as a nice guy. There are moments when Trey gives others their comeuppance for misbehaving (such as in his dorm uniform vignettes, where he deprives first years of cake for complaining about his same-y baked goods). The thing is, most don’t see it coming because he’s typically so… nice. When he wants to be stern and put his foot down, he certainly can—it just isn’t something that happens a lot, since he’s more mild-mannered than his classmates.
Cater is strict with his public image, specifically how his peers view him. This is most obviously seen in his obsession with social media. He's constantly taking pictures and posting, being heavily involved on Magicam—a space where he can control the narrative about the type of person he is and the life he has. Cater keeps up this front in real life as well, acting cheery and sociable with his classmates while masking a far less motivated and sad side to his character. (This is implied in his Lab Wear vignettes, where a mandrake he infuses with his own magic becomes gloomy and huddles into itself.) There are occasions when Cater expresses that he is lonely or that he wishes he had more friends growing up, but he never fully opens up about his true nature. He strictly keeps that part of himself locked up tight and is seemingly afraid of what others would think of that persona.
Like Cater, Deuce is strict with himself. In Deuce's case, this arises from a past of delinquency and the desire to reform and to be an honors student that his mom can be proud of. Because of these goals, Deuce tries very hard to excel in class (but often falls short) and to behave in a way that he believes honors students would. This means changing the way he looks (he let his natural hair color come back in; it used to be bleached blonde), the way he speaks (not using foul language), the way he dresses, and, most importantly, the way he acts. Of course, his temper gets the best of him at times and his delinquent self bubbles back up (like in book 1 when the eggs were ruined), and Deuce is currently working on better repressing that.
Ace is probably the most carefree and the least stereotypically "strict" of the Heartslabyul group. Instead of having a focus on enforcing rules, Ace is usually the one breaking or defying them. How, then, does he embody the Queen of Hearts' spirit of strictness? I believe it comes through in some of Ace's most iconic scenes: the ones where he is calling others out on their bull crap. Time and time again, it's Ace that is bluntly telling others what they're doing or saying is hypocritical or wrong, or that they haven't truly taken accountability. He does this no matter who he is facing, be that his own dorm leader (book 1), an undead bride (Ghost Marriage), or Malleus Draconia himself (Endless Halloween Night). Ace has his own set of morals and beliefs, and he speaks them loud and clear without imposing as harshly as Riddle does.
The King of Beasts' Spirit of Persistence
Persistence is when one continues their course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition. In other words, there is an obstacle in the way of achieving a goal, and one persists in the face of that obstacle.
Leona is a somewhat strange case to make for persistence because initially he comes off as a very lazy character. We quickly learn that though he appears unmotivated, he’s comfortable scheming and thinking multiple steps ahead to cut out difficult or unnecessary work. There’s no doubt that Leona has had a challenging childhood, feeling like he was always being compared to his brother and never recognized for his own talents. We feel the effects of Leona losing this hope as late as book 6, when Leona says that Jamil is capable of change, unlike himself. Some fans even speculate that Leona’s dialogue implies he has fallen into depression as a result of frequently being dismissed and put down in spite of his efforts to be seen. Even when Leona is dealing with such trauma, he cooks up a plot to return his dorm to glory and to support its future. He, the lowly second born prince, wants to prove himself and his team of misfits, as being worthy of respect and admiration. When the plans fall through, Leona is quick to give up (which seems to go against the idea of Savanaclaw’s persistence). However, I would say this is part of his character growth in book 2. Later in the main story, Leona also throws in the towel quickly—but it doesn’t contradict his development; he knows when to strategically retreat in book 6.
Ruggie comes from an extremely impoverished background. He has had perhaps the least “cushy” life out of the entire NRC cast. Even so, Ruggie was able to study and work hard enough to earn decent grades, get multiple part-time jobs, and pick up many useful survival skills. He’s street smart and knows that what he lacks in strength he can make up for by sticking to someone who is strong (Leona). (Their relationship is mutually beneficial!!) Ruggie knows that just having money isn’t sustainable in the long run, so he’s hauling ass now to make something of not only himself, but also for all the people in the slums.
Jack embodies persistence through the events of book 2. At first, Jack tries to get Leona to see reason by letting him know that he genuinely is a figure Jack admires. He’s put in a moral dilemma when Leona argues that even if they play dirty, he has good intentions. If Jack interferes, he is messing with the future job prospects of his dorm members. Jack wrestles with the question before ultimately coming to the conclusion that he has to tell others about it—and, what’s more, put his own pride as a lone wolf aside to confront Leona and stop to his machinations.
The Sea Witch's Spirit of Benevolence
Benevolence may refer to meaning well or general kindness and compassion. It involves a willingness to help others and caring for them.
Azul, being at the head of the operations at Octavinelle, passes himself off as a benevolent man who will listen to your woes and grant your wishes. In fact, he does—but at a price. The shady ring he’s running is NOT wholly benevolent; the deals can definitely come across as malevolent in book 3 (when Azul wrote the contracts in such a way that the loopholes could fuck clients over). The deals themselves (assuming no foul play), however, are neutral since both parties agree to the terms. Contracts are written with the idea that they will benefit the clients. And Azul is, of course, also seeking out benefits for himself, as that is the nature of business dealings.
Jade represents a kind of benevolence associated with acts of service. He’s Azul’s right-hand man and information broker—furthermore, much of how Jade presents himself alludes to being a butler or some other supportive role. Jade just generally behaves in a way which benefits others. He acts demure and servile, then uses the trust he has gained through service to ply what he wants out of others. Jade does it so sweetly and so expertly that his prey don’t usually notice, or willfully overlook it, being far too impressed by his abilities to fixate on his ulterior motives. This strategy works even on notoriously stern individuals such as Vil (Jade Dorm Uniform vignettes).
Floyd gives “free hugs” :) is… well, ironically, the “kindest” of the trio in a weird way. While this is highly dependent on his mood, the fact of the matter is that Floyd is the easiest to read in terms of “telegraphing” his actions. If he’s in a bad mood, he usually will not hide it. You know what you’re signing up for as soon as you see him. He also typically doesn’t put forth an effort to manipulate or to scheme like Azul or Jade would; Floyd would prefer to be direct and get it over with already. That, in a sense, is the mercy that he offers: something swift and plain to see.
The Sorcerer of the Sands' Spirit of Mindfulness
Mindfulness is a state of being aware of oneself and the present moment. A mindful individual can aknowledge and accept one’s feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations. Mindfulness may also extend to being aware of others and perceiving their own states of being.
Kalim is not viewed as the most intelligent or crafty of leaders, but where he shines is in his ability to welcome and to bond with his dorm mates. His emotional intelligence is extremely high, which proves itself to be a useful skill in getting to know others and to earn their trust. Kalim has made a name for himself in Scarabia because he is always there to listen and lend a helping hand to his dormmates. He is unabashedly open about his own emotions too, crying when he is sad and trying hard when he is frustrated or dissatisfied. He often asks to know what is wrong when he senses upset within his classmates and wants to do what he can to rectify those situations. This is peak mindfulness--not only is Kalim acutely aware of his own emotional state, but he's also pretty consistent with sensing those in others (the one big exception here, of course, is Jamil). Sometimes Kalim can be blindsided by his own blind faith in others or his overeagerness causing him to blurt things out unintentionally. He's definitely not perfect in this regard--however, there's plenty of room and willingness to grow and to learn (something which Kalim has expressed both in book 5 and in birthday vignettes).
Jamil more readily fits in with a less savory interpretation of mindfulness. He thinks ahead and uses what he knows of others to manipulate them or put himself in an advantageous position. This notably occurs in book 4 (when Jamil plans to use the feedback of Yuu and the Scarabia members to dethrone Kalim), as well as in events (like Beans Day, where he plans to entrap Kalim when Kalim cooks a fragrant lunch that Jamil purposefully packed for him). He uses what he notices or knows about others (Azul’s shadiness, rumors about Lilia being a bad cook) to avoid interactions which could be less than beneficial to him. Jamil’s main fault is that he fails to recognize people’s strengths (something which Leona calls him out for in book 6), and instead focuses mainly on their weaknesses, shortcomings, and how those could be exploited (mostly because he’s in a position where he cannot outright act in certain ways without suffering some consequences). Jamil is aware of these potential consequences and finds or plans workarounds for them. However, he is also mindful in a more conventional sense too. He’s usually the competent one in Scarabia’s leadership and fulfills the organizational tasks that Kalim doesn’t. The duo is like sun and moon; they balance each other out.
The Beautiful Queen's Spirit of Tenacity
Simply put, tenacity is determination and endurance. One is persistent in maintaining, adhering to, or seeking something valued or desired. Each of the members of Pomefiore knows what they want, and they are stubborn in their pursuit of it.
Vil makes it clear in book 5 that he wants to win VDC/SDC, thereby proving to himself and to the world that he is capable of more than playing the part of a “villain”. He already had high standards for himself prior to book 5 (exercising, doing skincare, maintaining a healthy diet, etc.), but you can see how single minded Vil is toward this one goal. He drives his team members hard and even cancels a major job offer from his manager so he can dedicate all his time and energy into seizing the win. And how many times has Vil lost in the past??? Countless, I bet. Yet here he is, trying again and again, even when he knows that happy endings aren’t guaranteed and his efforts may not bear fruit after all.
Rook pursues any and all things beautiful!! He used to just be content admiring beauty, but with Vil’s prompting, Rook soon also found value in beautifying himself. It means Rook can also put beauty out into the world, and helps him better appreciate other works of art. This man is infamous around campus for his… admittedly creepy and unnerving habits. He follows people around, documents them in photographs, memorizes their personal details, etc. His keen eye has also earned him praise though—Vil can comfortably rely on him for honest feedback, and Neige recognizes him as a dedicated member of his fan club. Rook is nothing if not determined and dedicated to his craft.
Epel is tenacious too, but in a way that Vil would not approve of in all circumstances. Epel is stubborn in his thinking and refuses to let go of his hometown roots. He’s very proud of where he comes from, so he puts up a fight with Vil when Vil demands that Epel address his upperclassmen more politely. Epel sees the command as a threat to himself, and a challenge to the hometown he loves. Additionally, it takes Epel a while to reevaluate his deeply ingrained views on gender norms. He’s all-around very strong-headed!
The King of the Underworld's Spirit of Diligence
Diligence is when one is involved in careful and persistent work or effort. This principle generally governs all of STYX, the blot research organization operated by the Shroud family. Their job is a thankless one—they do such important work, yet it isn’t recognized by the general public due to STYX’s secretive nature.
Idia, as the temporary acting director of STYX in book 6, gets involved in their research. There’s many Phantoms kept in the STYX facility, so there are many safety precautions in place and care taken to ensure no one is harmed. (Ironically, it was Idia’s lack of diligence that led to Ortho’s passing.) Outside of book 6, one can say that Idia has a diligent personality, at least when it comes to his hyperfixations. He becomes dedicated to media that captures his interests to the point where it actually incentivizes him to leave his room (Ghost Marriage) and overcome his meek stutter to speak confidently and lecture people (first Halloween event, his Dorm Uniform vignettes, etc.).
I believe Ortho is diligent in being Idia’s emotional support both before and after Ortho is officially recognized as a separate student. He cheers Idia on and encourages him to touch grass socialize, wishing nothing but the best for his big brother! Ortho wasn’t always like this either; he used to be quite stiff and monotone, and had to learn how to emulate emotions by carefully observing and absorbing media. His motivation in book 6 is also fueled by diligence—Ortho worries about what he can do to support Idia’s wishes, and this is ultimately what drives him to taking over STYX and unleashing the Phantoms. Then, in Fairy Gala: What If, Ortho stubbornly tries to come up with his own ideas regarding the theme of evolution rather than rely on others for answers. He works hard to developing his own concept and is able to put on a show-stopping performance with it!
The Thorn Fairy's Spirit of Nobility
To be noble can refer to strength of character, mind, and/or literal position, birth, rank, or social status. No matter which definition you go with, I think they could all apply to the members of Diasomnia.
Regarding noble status, Malleus and Silver are both princes. Lilia and Sebek may not be nobles themselves, but they (in addition to Silver) serve royalty and have close personal connections to people in high places, be it via friends or via family. Diasomnia is very well-connected.
Beyond superficial nobility, one can say that those in Diasomnia are noble in character as well. To begin with, Lilia has sacrificed himself for his country on multiple occasions. This isn’t limited to going to battle, but also ferrying his princess’s egg to safety, traveling the world for knowledge on dragon eggs, and going so far as to give up his own life force to hatch Malleus. And what does Lilia get for all of this? Banished from the capital, screamed at, shunned—all because he is a nobody, a bat of no status. Despite this, Lilia does not become bitter nor hateful, he instead opens his heart and mind to the world and seeks to instill others with the same wisdom. Through all the tragedies he suffered, Lilia rose stronger than ever rather than sinking to the same levels as the narrow minded senators that rebuked him.
Silver is, perhaps, the most overtly noble in character. He extols the virtues of listening and getting along with others, often serving as the peacemaker between parties (typically between Sebek and their peers, but we’ve also seen Silver smoothing things out between all of NRC and diurnal fae). He also assumes the best of others and is ready to leap into action to protect them at a moment’s notice. His kind and gentle nature attracts many forest animals to him, who can likely sense the purity of Silver’s heart.
Sebek’s brand of nobility isn’t geared at others in general but rather is pinpointed on one person (that being Malleus). He is noble in the sense that he dedicates himself to his prince. It’s no secret that practically everything Sebek does is to “live up” to perceived standards so as to not shame Malleus or the Draconia royal family—from doing well academically to dressing neatly and throwing himself into training… Sebek’s passion and eagerness is what makes him stand out. It could also be said that he fiercely defends his friends and those who have earned his respect (albeit maybe not worded in the most tactful ways). That, too, in a sense, is honorable.
Finally, we have Malleus. What can be said about him that hasn’t already been said? He is the prince of a nation, so there are many people looking to him for leadership. As such, Malleus must always conduct himself in a manner that puts his country’s best face forward and expects the same of others. Indeed, he reprimands Sebek for behaving in poor taste and instructs him to apologize to Leona, the prince of another nation. However, what is most telling about Malleus is his impetus for Overblotting. He deludes himself into thinking “this is what is best for everyone”. In his mind, he frames forcing everyone into dream states so they can stay forever and have their happily ever afters as the “good” and “noble” thing to do. He’s definitely not doing this for himself, he argues, it’s a gift for everyone. And throughout book 7, Malleus tries to gaslight others into this belief too 💀 when bro’s already convinced himself of this and refuses to see otherwise—
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ickadori · 4 months
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I read the borrowed time piece you did and WAS OBSESSED! I am dying to know the fallout of that whole thing. How on earth does Yuji react when he realizes Sukuna just borrowed his body to eat you out? Where do they even go from there? Would you consider writing a follow up piece or even just share your thoughts on what you think would happen next? THANK YOU
-A thirsty follower
i don’t plan on making a part two on that, but if i did, it would more than likely feature both sukuna and yuji, once again.
it would probably start off with yuji apologizing and trying to explain that sukuna had taken over somehow, despite yuji claiming to always have control over him, only for sukuna to interject somewhere in between to correct the story. probably smth like this ~
“I don’t know how he took control, but he did—I tried to stop him, I really did, and I did stop him...just at the wrong time.” The blush on Yuji’s face is concerning, but you can’t think about his wellbeing too much when you’re no better. Your skin feels hot all over, sweat beading at the back of your neck and heart hammering in your chest, and your hands nervously pull and stretch at the end of your sweater.
I should really change, you think. No, you should just kick Yuji out completely and just transfer to the Kyoto school and never show your face around here again. Yeah, you could do that, that’d work.
“Your persistence in painting me as the only fucked up one is really pissing me off, brat.” You nearly squawk at Sukuna’s voice, a red eye focused on you, or more specifically, the glossy sheen that still coats the insides of your thighs. You press them tightly together and glare at him -them-, and a deep, gravelly snicker sounds as a result.
Yuji slaps a hand over his cheek in an attempt to quiet him, an attempt that has failed time and time again in the past, and fails again as he simply makes the hand materialize on the back of Yuji’s palm. “Tell her exactly how I was able to take over - tell her what you were doing.”
“Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything!” There’s a panicked look in his eyes, and you tense when Yuji turns to you, scooting closer to where you’re sat on the couch and leaning into your space. His lips move a mile a minute, and your stomach clenches as you take in the wetness that’s still spread across the bottom half of his face. Oh, God. “—really don’t know how he was—”
“He came to the thought of fucking that tight, sweet cunt so hard that he passed out, and we both know what happened next.” Sukuna grins, Yuji pales, and you blink, trying and failing to ignore the way your panties become even stickier. “Surprised it didn’t happen sooner. The pervert can barely go two seconds without creaming his pants when he’s around you.” You want to call him a hypocrite, a damned nasty one, but you find that your words are stuck in your throat, eyes unconsciously trailing down to marvel at the bulge in Yuji’s pants. It’s big...how is it so big? “Let’s also not forget that you didn’t take control, I gave it to you to shut you up.”
Sukuna gives you an unsettling once over.
“He wouldn’t shut up about wanting to taste you himself - he nearly cried when I got you to come on our tongue. I let him clean up the mess afterwards.” Your mind goes back to the softer, near desperate licks and sucks that had transpired after you came, and your cheeks burn at the reveal that it had been Yuji happily lapping between your thighs and not just Sukuna. “And judging by the way you keep rubbing your thighs together... he’s gonna be cleaning up another pretty soon.”
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carriesthewind · 11 months
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Good evening everyone! As I said in an answer to a previous ask, there wasn't a public call-in line to listen to the Show Cause Hearing in Mata v Avianca (the ChatGBT lawyer case) today.
However, while we are waiting for a transcript of the hearing (because there was a court reporter! yay!) and a written decision by the judge, we did get this absolutely anxiety-inducing live tweet of the hearing:
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(Caveat: this thread was not an official transcript of the hearing and should not be taken as such. It is possible the actual events and statements made in the hearing differ significantly from this report - i.e., take this with a grain of salt and reserve final judgement for the actual transcript.)
I'll put the full thread with some (light) commentary below the cut.* But the overall impression I am left with is that the judge seems to feel this pair of attorneys are treating their duty of candor toward the tribunal with the same seriousness with which they are treating their duty of competence to their clients. (And in this case, that's a very bad thing.)
*The full thread except for a soon-to-follow part 2 because I ran out of space for images again.
(All of the following screenshots are from the above tweet thread by Inner City Press @ innercitypress on twitter, made on June 8, 2023.)
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Normally I would overlook that "you, personally," but in this case, you really get the feeling that the judge is concerned that LoDuca might just start talking about what Schwartz did again.
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Establishing LoDuca's base of knowledge - he should know how to look up cases and check if they are real; he should know what a real case looks like.
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The March 1 submission was the plaintiff's opposition to the motion to dismiss, where they first cited the fake cases.
How bad this answer is depends, I think, on LoDuca's wording here. Best case scenario, his statement about Schwartz was a specific statement about what inquiry was reasonable for him to do under the circumstances (which - for that first filing - I think is actually a reasonable argument. You don't expect your colleague to just make up cases). Worst case, this reads like him trying to wiggle out of his obligations. I will withhold judgement until I see the official transcript.
Rule 11, by the way, refers to Rule 11 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure. Rule 11(b) states:
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(If you remember the Order to Show Cause, we are dealing with a Rule 11(b)(2) issue here. Rule 11(c) allows the court to impose sanctions for violations of Rule 11(b))
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Oh no, bad answer. (If anyone reading this is good at photoshop, I cannot express how badly I want a version of the "this sign can't stop me because I can't read" meme with the sign being the quote from defendant's reply where they say, "The undersigned has not been able to locate this case by caption or citation, nor any case bearing any resemblance to it.")
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Oh that is not a good way of characterizing those orders. (Those were the orders, remember, where the Court said, "By April 18, 2022, Peter LoDuca, counsel of record for plaintiff, shall file an affidavit annexing copies of the following cases cited in his submission to this Court: as set forth herein. Failure to comply will result in dismissal of the action pursuant to Rule 41 (b), Fed. R. Civ. P.")
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I would simply perish on the spot.
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Oh yeah, I forgot to mention in my original attempted summary of "Varghese" - the first paragraph states that it is a wrongful death suit by the widow of the passenger. Then the second paragraph states that the passenger was denied boarding on a flight due to overbooking and thus missed his connecting flight and therefore incurred additional expenses. The case was such nonsense that I legitimately forgot about that inconsistency by the time I got to the end.
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Your honor I plead "2 stupid 2 sanction."
(I believe the "different fonts" is in reference to the April 25 affidavit, in which the case names - and some of the surrounding text - are in a different font from most of the text in the affidavit. It seems like this is because they may have been copied straight from ChatGPT. See e.g., #3 below. It's hard to tell just based on this twitter thread, though.)
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A short and simple answer! You did it!
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"I have all the answers I need" is not a good sentence in this context.
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Very genuinely: shorter is better here. At least I don't think he hurt himself with that statement.
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Judge Castel: How do you conduct legal research?
Schwartz: I research cases.
Judge Castel: Do you read them?
Schwartz: Well, I may have once upon a time, but after hearing you ask that question in this context, I have decided to retire from the practice of law forever and also possibly sink into the ground and die. Also, by answering "yes," here, I just realized that I'm either admitting that I read the cases I submitted and therefore must have known they were fake, or else I just possibly committed perjury. Oh shit oh fuck.
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Oh god I'm cringing myself into a pretzel just reading this.
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Hey, by the way? You can actually use google (esp. google scholar) to do legal research. (It's not a good tool and you will miss things, but it will do in a pinch.) But. Um. If you know that...why didn't you double check your cases at very least on google when you were told they seemed to be made up?
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So, once again, I am going to withhold judgement until I see the actual transcript. That said, if Schwartz did say this, I would like to compare it briefly to a part of the chat transcript he provided to the court. Here is the first question asked about the Montreal Convention in the provided transcript:
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"analysis"
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Oh god. I can't even provide commentary on this one. I hope this is worse than the actual transcript will prove to be. I'm reading through my fingers like I'm watching a horror movie.
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"Misperception" (or "misconception") doesn't work once you have evidence that should cause you to doubt - like not being able to find a case that was supposedly published in the Federal fucking Reporter.
This is overshooting "2 stupid 2 sanction" into "too stupid to function."* You either looked for "Varghese" or you didn't. If you looked for "Varghese," it is not credible that you continued to have a good faith assumption that ChatGPT couldn't lie. If you didn't look up "Varghese," you just lied to the Court under oath.
*Just to be clear: for an ordinary person, this would be a very understandable lack of knowledge issue. A lawyer has no excuse not to know this.
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Judge Castel: Mr. Schwartz, I think you have the fucking audacity to try to lie to me to my face in my fucking courtroom.
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Honestly at this point I'm surprised he could still talk. I think screaming, "I'm melting, I'm melting!" as he vanished into steam, leaving his crumpled suit behind, would be an appropriate response.
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NO.
Oh no, oh honey.
Ok. Two options here (again, assuming he actually fucking said "They said they couldn't find them," in response to the Court asking, "When Avianca said you cited non existent cases?"):
Schwartz is once again trying to purposefully downplay what the defendant's reply brief actually said and dodge responsibility.
Schwartz honestly, truly believes that when the defendant filed a reply containing the line, "The undersigned has not been able to locate this case by caption or citation, nor any case bearing any resemblance to it," they were just asking for assistance with their legal research?!??!
I honestly don't know which is worse.
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Oh no....
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Oh man, I haven't gone over it here yet, but I think that "I looked up the judge" is a panicked attempt at bringing up a talking point the Professional Responsibility Lawyers raised in their memorandum of law. (Again, I'm giving this reading of his response with the caveat that it is based only on this thread, not the official transcript, which might read very differently and contain different/more info.) The Professional Responsibility attorneys noted in a footnote that two of the judges listed in the "opinion," including the "author," were actual 11th circuit judges, and the other is an actual 5th circuit judge. My read of this footnote was as an extra little detail tossed in by the Professional Responsibility attorneys to try to dress up their argument that the "opinions" had various "indicia of authenticity."
But here's the problem. If Schwartz is telling the truth - if he was reading carefully and critically enough that he bothered to look up the judge (why would you do that if you didn't think the case might be fake?!) there is no way he could have missed that the case was gibberish. Again, if this is really what he said at the hearing, he either lied in the hearing, or he must have know the "opinions" were bogus when he gave them to LoDuca to file.
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"Did it cross your mind" - if the court actually said this, oh my god.
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Hey, that's the point that I made in my original post(s)!
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This whole thing about the "+h" to "th" with the notary date is from the recent affidavits filed on 6/6/23, you can read them about them if you want, I'll be honest, I don't really care as much about the notary stuff so I'm going to skip it for the moment.
....and I've run out of space for images again. Part II to follow shortly!
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flamingpudding · 7 months
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Ghost Kitten
A/N: I got fascinated with the idea of Danny being Selina's son and then during work this sort of idea formed in my head.
Danny wasn't supposed to know yet. Jack had it all prepared for when Danny would get to learn about this. But this, this was not how Danny was supposed to learn about his origins yet. Jack Fenton wasn't sure how to react, so he ended up possible reacting in the worst way possible if he judged it by the way his sweet little boy was looking at them.
Jack tried to remember where it went wrong. Jazz had come to them, told them Danny wanted to have an important talk. That it was so important that she needed both of them to focus on him seriously. It had worried Maddie and him at first and when they sat down on the couch facing their children they weren't sure what to expect. But then his boy told him about the accident he had in the lap, about how things changed even asking them if they ever noticed how Danny's behaviours changed.
Jack had to admit then, that he hadn't really noticed and it made his mouth taste like dirt. He didn't like where this was going. He saw how his children exchanged a glance and then his sweet boy told them the truth and Jack could feel the horror overtaking his entire mind. The accident had changed Danny even worse.
He couldn't help but remember a term he had last heard long ago before his collage years even. Meta Human. His son had become a Meta human with ghost based powers and had kept it a secret from them for so long. Jack didn't know how to react then and still didn't know now. All he could think about were the horrors he had put his sweet little son through. All the times he had offhandedly said he would tear him apart molecule by molecule. In how much fear did his son have to live until he gathered enough courage to tell them, most likely only because Jazz was there to support him?
Jack didn't want to imagine it anymore. All he wanted was to hug his little boy and tell him that everything would be okay but before he could do anything. Maddie, his until then wonderful, wife told them something in return they had an agreement over when to tell them.
"You're adopted. You are not my child."
Until then Jack had always thought Maddie loved Danny just as much as he did but as he locked at his wife and saw the steely coldness flickering in them with distress. He wasn't so sure anymore. Torn between being angry at Maddie for the first time after so long and wanting to comfort his boy, Jack could do nothing but sat frozen as his beloved family broke apart before his eyes.
Suddenly Maddie and Jazz got into a headed argument, Danny was starting to draw into himself, making himself smaller watching his mother and sister fight. Until Maddie stormed out fo the room. Jazzie gave him a challenging look but Jack didn't know what to say so instead, what he had planned to tell his son when he turned 18 he was going to tell him now.
"Danny you know how we have barely any contact with family from my side? There is a reason behind it. But the important part here is that the only one I do keep sort of contact with is my fourth cousin and even that is nothing more than a couple messages ever few months."
"And what does that have to do with Danny?" Jazz pressed on while his little boy finally got the courage to look up at him.
"Dann-no, I need for you to now that no matter what you are or what I am going to tell you, you are my little boy, my son." Jack did everything he could to stare reassuringly at his boy and smiled once he saw him smile just a little too, he was most likely relieved that he was taking the news better than his mother.
"About 16 year ago, my fourth cousin contacted me out of the blue, till then we had only exchanged a couple of words and theories and projects. But that time was different. She was panicked, unsure and distressed. I don't know the specifics, all she told me was that she had gotten pregnant with a child from a fling who she wasn't sure wanted a relationship with or not and that she couldn't take care of a child in a city as dangerous as where she lived."
Understanding dawned on his daughter's face and Jack smiled fondly, Jazzie-pants had always been a smart cookie. "She didn't want to put the baby into her system, nor let a stranger take care of it. So she asked me and the moment I saw the little baby the first time. I knew he would be my son no matter what or how long she would want for me to take care of him."
Danny blinked wide eyed at Jack as finally his boy also understood what he was telling him. "Technically you are my fifth cousin, but I would prefer for you to stay my son for as long as you want."
He left his children after telling Danny the truth of his origin. Jack new he would love his son no matter what he was or his reaction towards the truth of his origins. Still he hoped this would not tear his family apart and that it would only take a day or two for Maddie to cool off for things to go back to an adjusted normal. Jack mused that he would have to diele back on the ghost ripping comments, he wouldn't want for his little boy to live in fear in their own house.
That what he thought until he saw his wife stewing in their bedroom, muttering about theories and how their boy wasn't their boy. He knew his wife, and dearly loved her. But it was because he knew her that he did the next thing he felt like regretting the next moment.
Danny is no longer safe with us. - J
He didn't get an answer from his cousin and the next morning he knew why. He did expect for her to want to remove Danny from their care, but he did not expect her to visit him with barely any time delay the next day.
All he could do was to stare and watch as Selina appeared on his doorstep with a man that was glaring at him and Jack might have only seen in magazines before, asking if she could meet her boy and how much he had already told Danny about his birth. And when he saw his baby boy's reaction to the two he wanted to do nothing more than hug and cuddle his little boy but once again, he got beaten to it by his fourth cousin.
His poor boy looked so unsure when Selina hugged him that Jack really wanted to take him away again, but he had no other choice, if he wanted to ensure his boy's safety.
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simpjaes · 2 months
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I don’t know if you’ve done something like this but mtl to let you have a threesome w another member ?
MTL: hyung line + let you have a threesome with another member
most
★ heeseung: if you were to call a threesome "sharing" then no, heeseung would be at the bottom of this list. and while threesomes are technically sharing, to him he finds it more of just kinky fun where he can be an asshole. i think he would be more inclined to letting the third sit on a chair and watch for an unforgivable amount of time, likely showing them just how his girl likes it, making you cum a solid three times before letting the third come eat up the leftovers. probably saying dirty things in your ear like "probably tastes more of me than you at this point" just so the third can hear it too, probably leading said third to either take the competition and fuck you better, or feel embarrassed, drowsy, and possibly even ashamed at how lucky they feel to be between your legs at all.
☆ jay: he's more adventurous than people give him credit for, but i do feel that threesomes would be a treat in bed with jay only during special occasions. he'd be super into it when it does happen though. likely inviting someone like jake or sunghoon into the bedroom to spice things up and try to control the entire situation. he'd definitely be a talker, saying dirty words not only to you but his friends too, mostly because he's a giver and would want nothing more than to be the point of arousal for anyone in the room when it involves his bed. he would also have no shame in being a cuckold simply so he can see you be spread apart by someone other than him. arguably, on specific holidays and dates throughout the year, you can probably guess all of the members are lining up outside his door trying to be the one invited this time round lmfao.
★ sunghoon: some would disagree but judging by his mars sign, i think that not only can sunghoon be fairly emotionally connected in regards to sex but also super aggressive and maybe even a little bit stubborn. just throwing the idea out there but i genuinely think this mf would invite someone into bed with the two of you either out of spite, or solely to prove to you that no one can do for you what he does. sure, he'd enjoy the fun but it would be a lot deeper to him than it is for you. unlike heeseung, he would absolutely be a cuckold, noting down every single time you moan for someone that isn't him, just so he can crawl on the bed and remind you exactly why you're with him and not one of his friends. threesomes for sunghoon would be nothing but an ego trip or an ego break. either way, i don't think he would necessarily hate seeing you get fucked, especially knowing he gets to do it all time.
☆ jake: he would never be caught dead sharing you if you were his, but he is usually the one being shared with! the second someone offers for him to fuck their girlfriend? immediate boner, immediate nodding of the head, and immediate asking when and where. given, it's always a treat to fuck someone else's girl, especially when he gets them moaning for him right in the face of said boyfriend. arguably, if any enhypen member is open to threesomes, jake will always end up being a third at some point. the best part is that he doesn't mind being submissive or dominant. he'll do just about anything he's asked of. more often than not turning into a puddle of mush while inside of you and said boyfriend is watching, or actively making his cock far more sensitive than it should be by either talking, making you clench him, or perhaps even sliding in right beside him.
least
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cheri-2047 · 2 months
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Genshin date headcanons (venti, lyney, ga ming, kaveh)
if i accidentally mischaracterized them i deeply apologize
warnings: nothing it’s mostly fluff, btw it’s established relationship already
VENTI:
He would love to take you on a picnic up on a hill. somewhere where the sun is in the perfect position and where the winds feel nice.
he would have a basket of all your favorites and a bottle or two of wine. (If you dislike wine, he will bring your favorite drink)
you guys would talk and just do whatever and have fun! This man loves to make you laugh, it makes him feel really happy.
afterwards, you guys go on a gliding date. Going down the hill and going around mondstadt wherever you guys please.
At night, he brings you to the tavern to drink (but then again if you dislike drinking, he will take you out to a romantic dinner).
afterwards when he brings you home, he leaves a flower in your hair and gives you a kiss
LYNEY:
this MF would greet you at your house doing a magic trick for you to get a rainbow rose on your hair. He would also say smth flirty as his first greeting like “it was a cloudy day before you, my light has appeared!” Or smth like that
he would take you to his favorite cafe in Fontaine, to have breakfast with you there.
whenever a kid approaches him and asks him to do a magic trick, he would go “alright! But only one okay? I’m on a date with this (if ure a girl, beautiful lady, if ure a guy, handsome man. If ure a diff gender he says with my dearest) and afterwards starts rambling on to the kid about how much he loves you. This man would show you off every single moment he gets.
he would walk you around the streets of Fontaine until he reaches his home. He brings you there and cooks lunch for you, somehow he knows your favorites even if he never told u. This man is strange 😭
after you guys eat he cleans up (and if you offer to help, he would not let you) and you guys cuddle on the couch watching a movie until both of you fall asleep.
GA MING:
He would take you on a dim sum and street food date, all with him paying for it ofc! He would bring you to his favorite street food stalls and you guys get to try the most delicious foods ever.
whenever he sees fellow co-workers, he loves Telling them “I’m on a date!!” He’s really happy and excited you guys are together.
whenever he sees any of his relatives he tells you to run, which actually becomes pretty fun for both of you since ou guys treat it like a heist 😭
When it gets dark, he brings you to a special area in Liyue Harbor. He then performs you a dance that he himself made specifically for you. Obviously this attracts some people so at the end he proudly announces that he made it for his beloved.
He brings you to your home and before you guys part, he hugs you tightly saying “Thank you..I had the best day today my love”
KAVEH:
He’d take you to the palace of Alcazarzaray, showing you around. Hed talk about his experiences in making it too.
you guys hang out there for awhile, talking about yourselves and getting to know one another even more
afterwards, he’d take you to an art museum. Both of you then jokingly judge modern art 😭😭😭😭 and just have fun
afterwards HED invite you to his and haithams home. He payed haitham to let him have the date there and for haitham not to interrupt because this man knows haitham would interrupt you guys 😭
he cooks for you and you guys eat together
afterwards you guys play bored games. You personally invite haitham so that you’d have more players and you’d get good entertainment whenever haitham and kaveh are beating each other
when it reaches night, kaveh invites you to stay. You two cuddle on his bed and sleep in each others arms.
sorry this was not proofread at all and that venti’s part is so short 😭 I tried.
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