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#seriously you think there's nothing else to discover
snekdood · 1 year
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I've never really actually cared about smearing my ex. I only ever wanted to clear my name and draw vent art to an audience i *thought* was removed from them. I didn't think anyone they knew or knee them were still watching me online so i felt like it was okay to finally draw vent art. Art that would only emotionally move them to actually give af about what they did but i felt was vague enough that people wouldnt trace it back to them. And then someone did, and then they wrote a whole callout post about me, which i was anticipating for years, but before that, theyve been for years building this image of me, where they know their audience knows theyre talking about me, theyve been trying to paint me as the abuser for years so that when they did call me out, people could refer to their comic and see "evidence" im bad because i guess thats evidence somehow??? Whatever the case. I feel like ive only been trying to clear my name since they started this. I never wanted it to devolve into this me vs them thing but they seemed to start off that way by default with me. I felt like i had to lay out everything they did to defend my point that i know what im talking about, im not crazy, and maybe listen to me because i might be right when i talk about myself specifically. The fact its gotten to this point is so stupid to me. It would have been so much easier for them to just drop the narrative of painting me as this horrible shitty person but no apparently we had to drag it all the way out to this point. I hate feeling like i have to constantly defend myself because theres a whole narrative about me thats entirely different from who I am. I hate that i felt like i needed to compile all this evidence that im innocent especially since even if i had direct evidence of their abuse people would still somehow find a way to dismiss it. All of this has been a waste of time but i guess so long as they get to throw my name in the trash and shit on it nothing else matters.
#why cant you just fucking apologize you pos#you and your friend were fucked up. you normalized fucked up shit in eachother. it made you think it was fine to treat me a certain way.#or. you treated me that way to paralyze me with ptsd. whatever the case. YOU fucked up. YOU need to face yourself and the consequences#of your actions and what you've done to me- both in and now outside of that relationship.#just because you can convince your followers and even yourself that you were the victim here doesnt make it true suddenly#you need to be fucking honest with yourself and what you did.#vent#i wouldnt even have cared they got popular off of stealing my art style nearly as much if they didnt also decide to drag my name in shit#while doing so.#like you will seriously do ANYTHING you can to try to smother me. and i know its because i know shit about you that you dont want other ppl#to know about. and no its not whatever embarrassing thing you think im trying to humiliate you with. its the weird rape shit you drew.#and its like dude. someone else found that for me. they literally found the website you used to use and i forgot the name of it.#if its so easy to trace this gross shit back to you how long do you think its gonna take for more and more ppl to discover it?#EVEN if you smear my name in shit?#maybe instead of constantly trying to evade your karma you should just embrace it for once. then maybe you'll be able to sympathize w#the shit you dragged me through too. like you dont care howuch you traumatize me at all so long as you can get away unscathed.#you are literally the worst person ive ever met.#ik whatever i say doesnt matter because its Not In Their Best Interest to give a fuck but. i do sometimes hope they look back on this shit#and really take in what the fuck theyve done to me and actually feel fucking bad about it for once. like how can you do this to someone and#feel nothing. it feels so cold and heartless and its why i think theyre just constantly looking away and instead of looking at themselves#directly.#theres nothing i could ever say that could make them do that.
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bratphilia · 6 months
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overtime (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"
note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary
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after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.
you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"
he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."
awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.
you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.
"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."
"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."
both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"
"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."
mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.
"y'know—"
"so, i should really—"
the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."
you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."
he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."
your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."
mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"
before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.
instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.
much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.
"please, what, honey?" he teases.
you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."
mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.
as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.
he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.
"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."
"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.
his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.
mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.
you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."
mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"
you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.
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darkbluekies · 3 months
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Yandere Silas x male reader bodyguard. Relationship:romantic
You and him grew up together in the mafia, Silas fell in love with you but you only saw him as a friend and he ends up falling in love with a girl and this makes you leave the mafia to go abroad with her to live a normal life.
Silas has contacts all over the world and discovers that you are in a country abroad, he kills the girl and kidnaps you
Be mine (you have no fucking choice)
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Yandere!mafia oc x male!bodyguard!reader
Summary: after being friends with Silas for years, you decide that it is time to pack it up and leave, much to Silas’s dismay.
Warnings: criminal stuff, throwing up, getting drunk by force, ropes, cage, mentions of sleeping around, violence, alcohol
Word count: 4.3k
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You put your gun into your belt and get out of the warehouse. 
“Hey, where are you going?” Silas asks and grabs your arm. 
“I’m going home”, you say. “This mission doesn’t interest me.”
You try to walk, but Silas hurries in front of you, blocking your way. He almost reminds you of the little, stubborn boy he once was when he does that. 
“Wait”, he says. “You never drive well after a mission. You have too much adrenaline. You and I can leave together. I can drive you to my house.”
“No, Silas, I’m going home.”
Silas doesn’t react to you calling him by his first name. But he never has. You are special. Only one other person in his entire organization can call him by his first name without getting a bullet through their eyes — that person being his second in command. You and his second in command have known Silas longer than anyone else. You’d dare call his second in command your friend too, although on a more professional level. 
You’ve known Silas longer than his second in command has, and you’ve known his little brother, Ares … and you’ve known about his jealousy for a very long time. It started when you one day went home with his brother to play video games after shool. Next day when you entered school, his brother had a black eye and Silas had not left your side for the entire day. 
It only got worse from there, but you never did anything. You tried to talk to him, but it seemed like the years made him even more jealous. He dated girls time and time again, but created a big fuss when you showed the slightest interest in anyone — be that boy or girl. You became the third wheel in SIlas’ multiple relationships.
He did admit to his love for you, just a few years ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would make everything harder. You were basically working for him as his bodyguard and didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. Losing him as a friend could mean both mental distress … and physical harm. 
“Does this have anything to do with the girl I’m dating?” Silas asks. 
You look baffled. “No? Why would you think that?”
“Because she’s at the house?”
“No, I just want to go home”, you sigh heavily. “Why do I have to explain my every step to you? You’re not my father, come on.”
“Because I’m worried about you.”
“What a great look for you, mister mafia leader. Don't let anyone else see that.” You nod at him to move. “Move out of the way now, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want to go home and order a fucking pizza.”
“So this has nothing to do with my girlfriend?”
“What's the matter with you? Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I'm not interested in you, you know that.”
You push past him.
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A month passes. You have been seriously thinking about leaving the mafia for a long time now, but ever since Silas got himself yet another girlfriend it became clear that you have to leave, if you ever want to get yourself one of your own. As long as you stay with him, he will never let you date anyone — apart from him, of course. 
You’ve decided to move abroad. While packing your bags, you feel tears run down your cheeks. You have known Silas for as long as you can remember. You love to be with him, he is your best friend. Betraying him would mean betraying yourself, and his entire organization. People who betray him gets killed personally by Silas. Neither you or Silas would want that.
However, leaving without anyone noticing would be hard. Silas would know that something was wrong right away and he would use his contacts to find you again. You’d need help with creating false documents … and you knew just the man to help with that. 
You hold the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” a familiar voice asks. 
“Hi, Ares”, you say. 
“How the fuck did you get my number?”
“I did some digging.”
“Holy fuck, Y/N, you need help.”
You chuckle and hear how Ares chuckles in return. 
“What did you want?” he asks. 
“I need some help.” You look around, feeling like you’re being watched, which wouldn't be very far off. “Can we meet up?”
“Sure. Now?”
“If you can.”
“Yeah, I’m not busy.”
You decide to meet up at a café an hour away from your house, hoping that Silas’s associates wouldn’t recognize you here. You couldn’t believe that you would meet Ares again, you haven't seen him since you were teenagers. He looks the same, just a bit more grown up. 
“My brother finally removed the leash around your neck?” Ares chuckles and hugs you. 
“No, not really”, you sigh. “This is why I need your help. I know that you scam tight about everyone. And I need you to help me create false documents, passport … yeah, you name it.”
Ares smirks.
“Little Y/N is going on vacation, I see”, he says. “Where are you going?”
“I don't know.”
“Are you trying to get away from my brother?”
You nod. Ares seems to think for a moment. 
“Go to Spain”, he says. “Silas is banned from there, he won't be able to get you.”
“Ah, I feel so bad about it, though”, you sigh and run your hands through your hair. “He's my best friend. And boss, technically. If I leave, I betray both my best friend and his organization … and then he has the right to kill me.”
“Wait, you're planning to leave the mafia? For real?”
“I don't want to, but I can't live like this. I want to have my own life. I'm a grown man now, the window for opportunities is closing every year.”
“I'll go with you. I'll protect you.”
“You don't have to, Ares. Look at me, I'm capable of taking care of myself.”
You were Silas’s bodyguard, after all. No weak person gets that position. 
“Yes, I know”, Ares says. “But I can help. And you don't have to be lonely.”
“You are an ass too”, you remind him.
“Better than Silas, though.”
You scoff and roll your eyes.
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Ares comes with you to Spain. He has given you false documents with new names and nationalities. You sit together at the airport with your phone in your hand. Your stomach is turning.
“I really should tell him”, you sigh nervously. “I don't want to just leave. I have known him for years. I might betray him work wise, but I can't betray him friend wise. I'm going to call him.”
“I don't think you should”, Ares says. “He has been awful to you, why does he deserve your goodbye?”
You groan and hide your head between your knees. Ares brushes his hand through your hair.
“Come on, sweetie, let it go”, Ares encourages you. “Your new life starts soon. Beach, sun and alcohol, all day long.”
You want to tell him that you don't drink, but decide to leave it be. 
“I have to go to the bathroom”, you excuse yourself and stand up to walk away.
But you don't go to the bathroom stalls. You stand by the large windows at the gate and call Silas.
“Hi, Y/N”, he says.”I haven't heard from you in a little while. I was about to go over to your house and drag you over to mine, because I miss you.”
“I have to talk to you about that”, you say,  hesitantly. “I am not at home, and I probably won't be back.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I'm really sorry that I have gone behind your back, but I am actually leaving … going abroad. And it might be permanent.”
“Have you hit your head?”
“I'm really sorry for betraying you, Silas, you’re my best friend … but frankly, you're always stopping me from getting my own family, while you brag about the women you fuck. I need to get away, at least for a while and get to try to find love. It might not be permanent, but I don't know.”
“Where are you going? You know that you can't leave the country without me knowing. The second any of your credit cards, passport or anything along that way is being used, I'm notified.”
“Well I'm not fucking stupid. I have fixed that.”
Silas scoffs out a mocking laugh.“You don't know how to do that.”
“I had help.”
“From who?” He doesn't sound that cocky anymore.
“Ares.”
Silence. 
“Oh, you can't be fucking serious”, Silas says. 
You can't detect what emotion he's feeling. Perhaps everything all at the same time. Maybe it was a wrong decision to call him before your flight, but the guilt would have eaten you up the entire way there.
“I am”, you answer, trying your best not to let your voice shake. 
“You know what kind of asshole he is, Y/N”, Silas tells you. 
“I have done stuff too, I’m no angel either.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just called to let you know that I am leaving. I didn’t want you to hear that from anyone else, I wanted you to hear it from me personally. This is a goodbye, Silas — at least for now. Thank you.”
“Y/N-”
You hang up and turn off your phone before returning to Ares who’s sipping on a beer by the gate, where you left him.
When you’re allowed to board the plane, you’re already nauseous. What if it wouldn’t work? What if you changed your mind? You already felt bad. Ares puts his hand on your shoulder while you walk through the middle of the plane, trying to find your seat. Ares takes the aisle seat. 
“Thank you for giving me the window seat”, you chuckle. “I feel like a kid all over again.”
“Well, I can’t let random folks touch you, can I?” Ares responds. “I’m a gentleman after all.”
Ares sits with his phone up the entire flight, working. You know all about his dirty business, how he scams people left to right with his false businesses. 
You fall asleep for a while. Your body has been in a tense position the entire day and finally, you were out of reach. He couldn’t create a storm or shoot down a passenger plane, he wasn’t a God or a military flighter. He is nothing more than a man with a bit too much power for his own liking. And hybris. A whole lot of hybris. Ares turns off his phone to look at you. He smiles slightly. For years, he has tried to take you from Silas. You didn’t want him, but Silas was too selfish to let you be put on the market. He wanted you available at all times, for when the timing was right. Ares stopped trying to reach out to you after a while, knowing that it was pointless, thought that if you wanted to get back in touch with him, you would reach out — and you did. Ares lets his eyes wander over you. He has tried to match your physique, but had no chance against the hours you’ve had to spend at the gym to be able to be Silas’s bodyguard. But under all those muscles, you are nothing but a softie, and that’s why Ares wants you … and Silas too, unfortunately. He always has to compete with his brother over toys they both want.
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Silas scoffs angrily and runs his hand through his black hair, and yet he can’t stop himself from laughing. It’s absurd! All of it!
“Why are you laughing, boss?” his second in command asks shortly. “This is nothing to be happy about.”
“I fucking know that?” Silas snaps back. “Do you think I enjoy knowing that my Y/N is on a plane with my psycopathic brother going to fuck knows where?”
“There are not a lot of places he could go to, though. Think about it.”
“I can’t fucking think! Y/N is leaving me!”
“Silas, sit down before you faint, ‘kay?”
Silas, oddly enough, listens and sits down on the couch in his study with his hands gripping the fabric beside him. His second in command stands in front of him with his hands on his hips. 
“Listen”, he says. “Ares would fuck with you, right?”
“Right”, Silas responds. 
“Which countries are you banned from?”
“Spain, England, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland.”
“So, one of those countries.”
“But which?!”
“His favorite. Which one is the warmest?”
“Spain?”
“Bingo.”
Silas’s eyes widens and he breaks out into a shocked smile. Why didn’t he think about this? Ares isn’t smart.
“...how the fuck do I do this?” he realizes. “I can’t just take a plane into Spain without being arrested the second I step off the plane. We will need another way. We could get a boat and sneak in.”
“I’ll see what I can do, boss.”
“Do it quickly, I know my brother and he will take what I want. If he does, I will never forgive myself.”
The reason why Silas has never let you date anyone is because he wants what can only be had one way, your innocence. 
He sighs and walks out of the room where he finds the woman he’s dating standing with her hands together, looking worried. A certain rage takes over him. The sight of her had made you want to leave. He knows very well that it isn’t her fault, but he can’t help but think that it is. Her existence has put you in a position of discomfort, and for that, she has to pay. Silas doesn’t want to look at her, it only makes him nauseous. 
He pulls up his gun from his belt, and without a second thought, he fires off and watches the innocent girl’s limp body hit the floor. But for now, he can’t bring himself to feel bad. 
He has to find you. Ares is only nice as long as you're on his side, if you want to disagree with him, he's going to strip you off everything. You just don't know how horrific Ares could be.
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Your first few days in Spain couldn’t be more than idyllic — if it weren’t for the fact that you look over your shoulder wherever you go. You scan the areas for familiar faces of Silas’s gang. 
“Relax, will you?” Ares says and hooks his arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoy the scenery instead.”
“I think I’m going insane”, you mutter. 
“A shot will help with that.”
“I don’t drink, you know that.”
Ares just smiles. You’re on your way back to the house from a restaurant Ares had treated you to. It was obviously a date, but you didn’t know how to tell him that you wanted to take things slow. Ares has never been a patient man … and you aren’t even sure if Ares is the person you want to date currently. Frankly, thanks to Silas, you don’t know what you want to do yet. You’ve only gotten your freedom to do whatever you want a few days ago, and it’s more overwhelming than you expected. 
“Do you want to come to my room?” Ares asks when you get to the front door. “We don’t even have to do anything, we can just watch TV.”
“I start to believe that the only reason you wanted to come with me on this trip was to get me in bed”, you scoff and put the keys in the lock. 
“Not only-”
“Ares, go to the bar and pick up someone there instead.”
“I can’t leave you alone, I told you that I was going on the trip to protect you.”
“And i told you that I didn’t need protection. If you’re horny, go.”
Ares sighs and gives up. “Fine, call me if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine, I’m tired.”
Ares nods and gives your back a tap before walking back the way you came from. You unlock the door, going into the house. In the corner of your eye, you can tell that something is moving. Instantly, you go into attack mode, but freezing when you notice who it is that is standing up from the armchair.
“I feel like a dad catching their underage kid sneaking in after a night out”, the second in command says. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you question. 
The second in command jerks his head. “Fucking guess.”
“Did Silas really send you because he can’t enter the country?” you laugh. “That’s so tragic.”
“Laugh all you want, you’re not the one that have been on a small fucking fishing boat for twelve hours straight!” He collects himself and sighs. “I will give you one chance to come with me voluntarily before I beat your head in.”
You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Try me.”
Silas must have equipped his second in command with things he knew that you wouldn’t be able to combat, because in one way or another, you lose consciousness. 
You wake up in a dark, cold room. At once, you try to move your hands to your eyes to rub them clean from drowsiness, but quickly notice how your hands are tied to something behind you. That’s when you realize that you’re stuck in a cage the size of a garden shed, in — what looks like — a cargo hold. Your hands are tied to one of the cage’s bars behind you. Your head is pounding from the hit his second in command had given you. 
“Look at that, he’s finally waking up”, a familiar voice says. 
“So we don’t need the water?” his second in command asks. 
“Let’s keep it.”
Silas walks into the cage, crouching down in front of you. He takes a hold of your chin, directing your head whichever way he wants. 
“You gave him a bump the size of mount everest”, Silas mutters over his shoulder. 
“He’s a trained fighter”, his second in command replies. “I had to do what I had to do, you know?”
“I guess.”
Silas lets go of your pounding head. You groan softly, feeling out of your own body, while still being trapped inside the cage. You start to cough and Silas grabs the bucket of icy water, holding it to your mouth. At first, you gulp it down … and then realize that it was sea water. You throw it up, right back into the bucket. Silas gives the bucket to his second in command, telling him to throw it out.
“That was fucking disgusting”, you grimace and gag. 
“You kind of deserve it.” He fixes your hair that has started to stick onto your forehead. “Why did you do that to me, Y/N?”
“You didn’t let me have my own life. I was living yours, as a side character.”
“You betrayed me.”
You meet his brown — almost black — eyes and feel your heart sink. You have never seen such sadness in his eyes before. 
“I know”, you say and turn down your gaze. “I felt really bad about it. I know the rules, and I won’t make a fuzz about it, but can I beg of you that it won’t be you who kills me? I don’t want that to be our last memory together.”
Silas seems to be taken aback. 
“I’m not going to kill you”, he says. “In fact, no one is.”
“But I betrayed you-”
“I know, but I can’t kill you.”
“You can’t bend the rules, or else you’ll get a mutiny.”
“Who said that I was letting you off the hook?”
You watch how Silas walks out of the cage, picks something up from the floor, and returns with a bottle in his hands. 
“I know that you are strong”, he says, popping the bottle open, “and violent. So, I’m going to keep you calm for the rest of the journey to Portugal. Open your mouth.”
“What is that?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing the bottle wearily. 
“Vodka.”
You shake your head quickly. “That’s so foul-”
“I did not ask for your opinion.”
He puts the opening of the bottle to your lips and you try to turn your head, but Silas forces you to drink. With one hand, he holds the bottle, and with the other he holds your chin to make sure that you can’t turn away. You have no other choice but to swallow the burning liquid. He doesn’t let you stop until half the bottle are gone. You cough and gag, but can’t throw up. 
“You absolute fu—fucking—”, you cough. 
“Calm down, baby boy, it’s just some vodka”, Silas says nonchalantly and takes a sip. “Good for your heart.”
He puts his hand on your heavily raising chest, trying to calm your breathing and feel your racing heart. The alcohol turns your body heat up and you want nothing more than for that bucket of water to come back. 
“My right hand man will be here to make sure that you’re not sober for a single second”, Silas says and stands up. 
“You can’t fucking leave me like this!” you burst out. 
“Then stop me.”
You fight against the ropes and Silas smirks triumphantly before leaving the cargo hold.
The second in command came in every half an hour to give you new sips. You tried to refuse, but with your hands locked behind your back and head spinning with alcohol, there wasn't much you could to to stop him.
You haven't drank anything since you were a young teenager and the rocking motions of the sea wasn't helping you. You refused to throw up again, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a state next time they entered.
You hated alcohol even worse now. Fuck Silas. 
After what felt like hours — in your drunken state it could very well have been days, or minutes — you couldn't take it anymore.
“Silas!” you shout and your tone goes to a whining, slurred melody. “Silas!”
You've never felt so helpless.
Silas enters with his second in command tightly behind him. He enters the cage and crouches down in front of your pathetic form.
“What?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
“Please stop”, you beg and sob, but you're not sure if the tears come from the heart or the alcohol. “Please …I will do what you want …”
Silas grabs the back of your sweaty neck and directs your wet face into his shoulder, letting you cry. You can feel that your hands are freed from the ropes.
Silas picks you up, carrying you up to the decks above water. His second in command holds your head so that you won't smash it against one of the sharp corners. 
Silas tucks you into a bed and leaves you to rest. You can see the shining sun outside the round porthole window as you fall asleep. 
He walks out onto the deck of the fishing boat and smirks.
“What?” his second in command asks.
“I'm not single anymore”, Silas chuckles.
“You won again, congratulations. Will you put Y/N into the basement?”
“He can handle that. But most important thing is that he's coming home where he belongs, and there won't be any more childish outbursts.”
“What happened with your brother, by the way?”
“Who cares? I don't want to meet him anyway, so the less I need to deal with him, the better.”
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When the fishing boat reaches Portugal, you are dragged to a car and to the airport. You don't say much. Silas disregard for your hate of alcohol and childish behavior has put you off. If it weren't for the fact that you are hus prisoner now, you wouldn't be his friend anymore.
Silas’s private jet stands ready on an empty field. He holds your arm as he pushes you up the stairs. You rip your arm from his hold.
“I can walk by myself, let me go”, you mutter.
Silas sighs. You sit down in a seat opposite Silas and cross your arms.
“You are glaring at me”, Silas says without glancing up from his phone.
“I'm just trying to determine if you have brain cells”, you spit.
“Aren't you a fun lad?”  
“Where is my phone, by the way?”
“Like sharp objects and weapons should be: far away from you.”
“Oh, I see. You're going to treat me like a child.”
“Y/N, I'm not an idiot. I trained you, I know how dangerous you are with weapons. You are even more violent than I am at times.”
“Obviously with good reasons.”
Silas glances up from his phone. You twitch your eyebrows testingly. You might not have your weapons, but your tongue is still sharp. 
Being in a relationship with Silas might be more interesting than you thought, and Silas sure as hell will realize that you're not going down without a fight.
“Your girlfriend, then?” you question. “What does she think?”
“Frankly, she can't think a lot at the moment”, Silas responds, turns off his phone and luts it on the table between you. 
You get the hint immediately. 
“Killing her was unnecessary”, you say.
“Running away from me was unnecessary too”, Silas adds.
“This is going to be a stable relationship.”
“It will be the second you stop with the childish attitude.”
While keeping eye contact, you push his phone off the table. Silas eye twitches as he bends down to get it.
“You're going into the basement when we get home”, he says.
“Can I hit back? Or are you going to have full control and tie me up again? Is that the only way you can win over me? With me being completely helpless?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up before I let you ride on the airplane wing.”
“Sounds good to me.”
You stare at each other, and you refuse to look away first. You're going to make him regret imprisoning you.
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taffywabbit · 1 month
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every time dilbert gets mentioned in a conversation/post i think about how hilarious it is that scott adams turned out to be such a deranged alt-right fuckwit, considering the fact that his comics indisputably radicalized me against capitalism as a kid and probably did so earlier than anything else
like there IS some pretty iffy stuff in dilbert for sure (particularly a lot of casual misogyny and xenophobia), and it definitely increased over time as the author got more edgy and self-important. i don't think i read anything from later than like 2003 and it was already starting to get pretty unreadable by then - LONG before he started openly being a turbo-racist podcaster weirdo. but the earlier stuff (especially before there were a lot of established recurring characters or running gags) was largely just a satirical cartoon focused on how corporations are evil and exploitative, and how you'd have to be completely detached from reality to truly enjoy working for them, and how trying to climb the ladder of success is a futile pursuit within a capitalist society where the upper class needs to keep pulling that ladder up behind them to keep the rest of us in our place and maintain their own status. it was basically vent art by a guy stuck working in mind-numbing desk jobs, who barely knew how to draw but just wanted to get his thoughts out and reach other people who were frustrated in the same ways he was. it's really weird but also fascinating to compare that to how it (and adams himself) ended up in the long run
i don't think it was particularly funny most of the time, and when it did have actual jokes, they were often pretty mean-spirited and/or cynical. i don't remember more than one or two specific bits from the comic that actually ever made me laugh, and i read a LOT of them as a kid (my grandpa had a massive collection of newspaper comic compilation books at his house that he'd let me look through and borrow stuff from - this is also how i discovered garfield and calvin & hobbes). but i DO remember having it instilled in me from an early age that there was nothing really exciting or praiseworthy about grinding your life away for a company that profits off your skilled labor and gives you pennies in return - which is especially noteworthy considering i was also raised by mormons, who are famously all about that "nobility in suffering" and "work your way to heaven" type bullshit. i'm genuinely unsure how this happened
anyways i think scott adams would probably piss his pants and explode if he ever took a break from peddling his psychic penis hypnosis and killer burrito podcasts long enough to seriously think about any of this stuff. (and i hope he does. it would be funnier than anything he's ever written.)
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risuola · 9 months
Note
Gojo x reader who's a student and she's 18y/o and he likes yn but yn doesn't or she doesn't wanna admit
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SENSEI — F. READER x GOJO SATORU
Gojo Satoru is your sensei and everyone seem to notice that he likes you more than anyone else. Everyone but you.
cw: student x teacher, age gap (reader is 18, Satoru is 28), very brief description of fighting, public kissing — 1,4k words
a/n: thank you for the suggestion! I made if sfw but I made the ending open for part two maybe? I hope you enjoy it 🩶
» PART TWO [nsfw]
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"Idiot," you grunted, your cheek was pressed against the grass as Gojo forced his knee into your back, holding both your hands in one of his own, the other keeping your head down. Another day, another training session with your teacher – you couldn't count how many of these you've already been through, but you can easily count how many sparring matches you've won. None.
"That's a strange way to ask for mercy, sweetheart, but okay," he hummed. You can tell he was grinning just by the sound of his melodic tone and you snapped at him, "I'm not asking for mercy, sensei."
"Ay, ay, so stubborn," Satoru chuckled and lifted up so you could do the same and as you stood on your feet, facing him, his hand caressed your cheekbone, successfully freezing you on the spot. The touch was so gentle that if you didn't know better, your knees would probably buckle from the sensation. But this was Gojo. The flirtiest of flirts, and the man you deeply disliked. It's not that you despised him, no, it's just the way he carries himself, the way he treated everyone around him, and most importantly, the way he treated you.
When you moved to Tokyo, joining Jujutsu High, you were barely fifteen, a first-year student that Satoru recruited himself by finding you on the streets of your small town and saving you from the mental facility that you already had one foot in, voluntarily. Before that, you tried to live your life as normally as one could, ignoring everything you saw around you because no one else seemed to see it. The curses, which you did not know were curses at the time, made you doubt your sanity for the longest time.
After moving, everything became easier – you met people who were just like you, you learned how to fight and mastered the cursed techniques in no time. Now, you just recently turned eighteen, you were pushing your last year of education, though there wasn't much more to learn, so you focused on helping younger students and if you were to be honest, this practice had taught you more than any theory could. You had the luck, or misfortune, to be Gojo's first official student – he took care of you himself, helping you to refine your control over the cursed energy and thanks to his guidance, you quickly discovered and mastered your own cursed technique, and since there wasn't much anyone could teach you at this point, you trained hand-to-hand with Satoru.
"Think you have more in you?", he asked, his thumb still brushing across your cheekbone and you took a step back. "I'm always ready to kick your ass," you bit, your eyes narrowing as you clenched your fists.
"That's my girl," Gojo grinned and you snorted at the sight. He's always so careless, never taking any of your attacks seriously, bragging about how untouchable he is, turning your wildest dreams into fantasies about erasing that infuriating smile from his face. And he was taking your fists like they're nothing, blocking and pushing them away like he's chasing a fly away when you tried to land a punch, with no luck at all. "Come on, I'm sure you can hit me at least once," he mocked, moving effortlessly, as if he could see what action your body will take before you even think about it.
"Shut up," you groaned, trying and trying, before he kicked you in the stomach, pushing you against the tree and you had no time to react before he was pressing you back with his own body. The sudden closeness made you gasp and act impulsively, but Gojo blocked the knee that buckled up, aiming for his crotch. "Nuh-uh, that's against the rules," he chuckled and you felt his breath against your lips.
"And you being on me is not?" you argued, but he was unfazed. "Who made these rules?"
"I did," of course he did. "It's only fair that the strongest make the rules."
"You and your damn bragging-"
"I'm stating facts," he cut in, and you rolled your eyes, "and you can't seem to be able to prove me wrong. Not even one of your eager punches lands."
That was the last straw – you inhaled to calm your anger, and you could physically feel your composure snapping as you looked at his smiling face. You were desperate to prove him wrong, not to defeat him, no, you're not that insane, but to just prove him that he's not as untouchable as he says. And then you recalled every teasing joke you heard from your younger colleagues – all of them seemed to come to the collective conclusion that the 'special treatment' you got from your sensei was surely an effect of his feelings towards you, and you brushed off the idea every single time. Gojo Satoru is handsome, annoyingly so, and his eyes are an absolute blessing to gaze into (when you're not his opponent in a deadly encounter, that is), and he's a kind, friendly man, very caring and protective of his students. His strengths make him invincible; he can win any fight with no effort, and everything he does, he does perfectly. He often brings you sweets, remembering your favorite flavors, and he always addresses you with a slightly warmer tone than when he speaks to any other student. He's also ten years your senior, your teacher, and he's way out of your league, so you simply chose to dislike him because allowing yourself to believe in such an absurd theory that he could fall for you would only bring disappointment.
But now, you were desperate to slam your fist into his face, to draw blood from his nose, to make him lose his balance, to get something– anything more than a swift, effortless dodge from him. Without thinking, you moved your head forward, reaching up, and he hummed in surprise when your lips landed on his. You could feel he smiled while taking control over the kiss, and you fought for dominance just a little before grabbing a handful of his snow-white, messy hair. You felt his well-built body pressing harder against yours, much smaller; the wall of muscle flush to your chest, and his large hand landed on the side of your neck, fingers curling around the back, pulling you more into the kiss. For a moment you were lost in the sensation – it felt so wrong and yet so right, and your mind became cloudy; his lips were soft and plush and perfect against yours, as if they'd been carved precisely to match yours, and it made your temperature rise to feverish levels at how skillfully he guided the sensitivity. Nothing you've ever felt compared to the feeling of Gojo's lips slowly dancing on yours, as if he's starving and now, he was allowed to devour the long-awaited meal – but he devoured it slowly, savoring the taste to remember every second of it. You whimpered as you felt his hand sliding down the length of your spine, sending shivers along it as your back arched beneath the touch.
You tugged at his hair, causing a contented purr to rumble within his toned chest, and you moved against your body's desires. You'd like to stay like this forever, careless about how everyone can see you publicly making out with your sensei; you'd like to kiss him longer, deeper, to take more of him, to make him yours, even if only for a moment, but instead you moved your hand. Curling it into a fist, you bit onto his lower lip following it up with a harsh, heavy punch to the side of his face and it landed perfectly, the contact between your knuckles and his cheek undeniable as he touched the bone. Despite the force you put into it, the blow wasn't strong enough to make him fall or even step back, but it was satisfactory for you. His face was colored with surprise as he looked down at you, and you couldn't help but grin broadly.
"New rule," he said, grabbing your hand and planting a kiss on the reddened knuckles that just made contact with his face. "No kissing your teacher during spar sessions."
"Too bad I wasn't familiarized with the rules before the fight, sensei," you shrugged, pleased with your accomplishment, and he couldn't get over the way you made the word 'sensei' sound. Suddenly he wished to hear it somewhere else, somewhere other than the school's training grounds or classrooms.
"Now I declare the end of the training."
And Satoru's lips were once again pressed to yours, taking your breath away.
» PART TWO
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regressionschool · 3 months
Text
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realitychange.com
Daniel is lounging on the couch, casually playing with his phone when, by some lucky accident, the website "realitychange.com" pops up on the screen. His eyes widen as he reads the text on the page – it says something about changing reality itself. At first, he's a bit hesitant, thinking it might be too good to be true. But then, a mischievous grin spreads across his face. "Why not give it a shot? What harm could it do?" he wonders.
He reads the instructions on the website and spots a text field where he can type his wishes. Suddenly, a mischievous idea pops into Daniel's head. He recalls a diaper commercial he recently saw on TV, and a lightbulb goes off. "What if my sister wore baby diapers?" he thinks to himself. With a sly smile, Daniel types his wish into the text field.
As soon as he hits the enter button, Daniel chuckles to himself, half expecting nothing to happen. Daniel decides to find his sister and see if there's any change. He heads off to search for her, and after a short while, he discovers her on her knees, rummaging through a cabinet, hunting for cleaning supplies. However, what catches Daniel completely off guard is what his sister is wearing. She's still donning her usual black t-shirt, but beneath that, she's dressed in a conspicuously babyish diaper, with nothing else to cover it. Daniel can't help but burst into laughter at the sight. His sister looks up, clearly surprised by his sudden amusement. "What's so funny?" she asks, unaware of the wish Daniel had made just moments ago. Trying to stifle his laughter, Daniel manages to compose himself and replies, "Oh, nothing. I just remembered something funny.“ His sister gives him a puzzled look but shrugs it off, continuing with her search for cleaning supplies.
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Curiosity getting the better of him, Daniel returns to the website, pondering what else he could type to test the reality-altering capabilities of this mysterious platform. After a moment of contemplation, he decides to type another wish: "My sister is wetting her diaper.“ As the words appear on the screen, Daniel feels a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. He wonders if anything will really happen this time. Intrigued and a bit nervous, he heads back to the kitchen to check on his sister.
To his amazement, the change is evident. His sister, still engrossed in her search for cleaning supplies, now sports a noticeably soggy diaper beneath her black t-shirt. Daniel's eyes widen as he observes the unexpected outcome of his latest wish. Unable to contain his surprise, Daniel exclaims, "Uh, sis, did you... uh, did you know your diaper is wet?" His sister looks puzzled for a moment, glancing down at her diaper. Realization dawns on her face as she registers the wetness.
Blushing, she stammers, "I... I didn't even notice. I better go change then. Thanks for letting me know," she says, shooting Daniel a bemused smile.
feeling a mix of amusement and mischievousness, Daniel rushes back to the website and eagerly types his next wish: "My sister is not allowed to change herself; she needs to ask someone for help."
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After a few moments, he hears his sister calling from the other room.
"Hey, Daniel, can you come here for a moment?" she asks. As he enters the room, he sees her standing there with a sheepish smile, still in her wet diaper. "Um, I was wondering if you could help me with something," she says, a hint of embarrassment in her voice.
Daniel can hardly believe the turn of events. It seems like his wish has taken effect. Suppressing a grin, he responds, "Sure, what do you need help with?“
"Seriously, Daniel? You forgot again, didn't you?" she says, crossing her arms.
Daniel, realizing his sister's annoyance, tries to play it cool. "Oh, right, sorry. I got distracted. Sure, let's get you changed."
Daniel is surprised to find that he knows exactly how to change diapers, as if some hidden knowledge has been unlocked within him. His hands move with an almost instinctive precision, the muscle memory guiding him through the steps of the diaper-changing process. It's as though he's been doing this routine for years.
As he efficiently changes his sister, Daniel can't help but marvel at the strange turn of events. The website, with its mysterious power, seems to have bestowed upon him not just the ability to influence reality but also the practical know-how to navigate these altered situations.
As Daniel finishes the task, he contemplates what other surprises realitychange.com might have in store for him and his sister.
pictures featuring the adorable acuteacorn
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austinsastrology8991 · 11 months
Text
JUPITER and where do you the MOST but its never EnuF > Jupiter ASpects < and the Taste of ABUNDANCE that Blinds everyone in awe
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Jupiter aspecting Sun - Bombastic ass people, they are the epitome of doing the most. Always thriving, always smiling, always giving and receiving, they just love themselves so much and they want to share this sense of joy that they have found and give it to anyone who had the pleasure of meeting them
Jupiter aspecting Moon - They are so emotional but so tender. everyone wants to hug them and get a hug from them. supreme motherly energy and everyone feels if they spill their feelings to them they will really listen, they'll probably start crying from the joy of you sharing their feelings to them Jupiter aspecting Mercury - too smart for their own good or anyone elses. Its hard to really tell what they mean because they have a hard time telling you everything going on in their head, so they practice the art of simplyifying whilst in their heads they are thinking of the most complex rubix cube with triangles, and their simultaneously talking to you. just go do brain surgery already (on yourself) Jupiter aspecting Venus - Luck is always on their side, they just attract abundance, and its hard for them to admit they are so lucky because to them this is just a everyday occurence. but when you talk to them, you cant even be mad at their stupid luck because they clearly are very beautiful people inside and out, but still everyone stays mad cause they way too lucky it ain't even fair Jupiter aspecting Mars - Drive is so strong they drove off the cliff and didn't take their foot off the pedal. But seriously they never quit; they love the thrill of pursuit, and the desire to win is so strong they feel nothing can stop them, even when something does stop them (and its gonna have to be a lot) they'll just use this time to recover then go go go again. Jupiter aspecting Saturn - the self control and self mastery is so admirable they never run out of applause for their hard work. which only inspires them to work harder, and its not for you, its because they get off on the feeling of completion, so when they can complete something to satisfaction, they are better than good. Self mastery is their bitch Jupiter aspecting Uranus - Crazy motherfuckers who do something no one ever done before, but everyone cant get enough. Truly fearless in going after their desires no matter how twisted or frownd upon they may be, they gonna do it because thats what makes them feel special. And it truly is special when they show off what ever the hell it is they got going on Jupiter aspecting Neptune - Angels on earth who are protected by their stupid amount of empathy. They have so much empathy and imagination at their disposal they can forgive anyone, and they are always stressing about doing the right thing. They are not easily persuaded to do the wrong thing, they've seen how destructive it has made everyone else and they strive to set an example, and this gives them an abundance of protection from negative forces. too creative too Jupiter aspecing Pluto - the darkest dungeon is where they learn to crawl and thrive. they have discovered secrets from the dark and it wasnt easy, but now they know how to use it to their advantage. Anything but naive, these natives are so deep and mesmerizing everyone cant believe what they went through and who they became. oh and they get stuck in your head like a parasite
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navybrat817 · 9 months
Note
his tongue 👅
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YES. This man and his tongue.
What That Tongue Do?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't get why you're attracted to an actor who plays him in another world, but he's happy to remind you what his tongue can do. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Multiverse discussion, Sebastian Stan and his tongue, d/irty talk, implied o/ral (f. and m. receiving), jealousy, humor, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: It's Sebastian Stan's birthday and this is my take on Bucky discovering his existence. And for the Bucks and Noble server, a quick position mention. Hehe. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“I don’t like him.”
You chortled as you turned in your chair to face Bucky, amusement twinkling in your eyes as his nostrils flared. “Why don’t you like him? That’s you. Well. Kind of. His name is Sebastian Stan.”
Bucky honestly couldn’t remember at this point if Tony had played around with something or if Wanda joined in and tampered with an experiment, but the monitors showcased what they were told were different versions of themselves in various worlds and dimensions. And you, his girlfriend, zeroed in on the screen where some punk who admittedly looked similar to him couldn’t stop showing his tongue and licking his lips.
Everyone else left quickly after that.
Does this guy have an oral fixation or is he a slut? Not that I would shame him if he is, but I don’t like how you keep looking at it.
“That is not me,” he stated, crossing his arms with a defiant glare. Had it been his old metal arm instead of the upgraded vibranium one, the distinct “whir” sound would’ve filled the room from how hard he clenched his fingers. “He’s a punk.”
“Steve is a punk. Seb is an actor,” you corrected him.
“Oh, it’s ‘Seb’ now. The punk has a nickname.”
“He is not a punk,” you giggled, the sound bringing a small smile to his face before he raised a lip at the screen.
I know punks and he’s a fucking punk. He can’t fool me. He looks shorter than I am. Why does his hair look so good after a fight? That’s not realistic. I have to admit, they got the likeness of the arm pretty close. Wait, do I make those facial expressions? Why are you smiling at his nose crinkle?
“His tongue is out. AGAIN. I swear he’s doing it on purpose,” he snarled when your head whipped back toward the monitor. “Seriously?! You’re looking?!”
“Only because he looks like you, Bucky!” you said innocently, facing him again. There was nothing innocent about it. The moment that guy’s fucking tongue moved, you clenched your thighs together. The only one he wanted you to do that for was him. “And like I didn’t hear you groan when you saw the Earth 314 version of me.”
That is not the same because I don’t love her. I love you.
“Fine. So, he’s an actor,” he grumbled as you got up and did your best to block out the view of the faces behind you. “And he ‘plays’ me?”
“Yeah, he does. In that world, James Buchanan Barnes, and pretty much everyone here that you know, are comic book characters brought to life. He plays you in the movies. Oh, they made a show, too. About you and Sam.”
What kind of world is that?
“Sam and I in a show together? That would never work.”
“It does in their world,” you said, touching his cheek and bringing his attention back to you and your loving smile. “Stop giving the television that death stare, please? Those monitors are shutting down in the next few minutes and we’ll never see those faces again.”
“Please. You think Stark didn’t find a way to keep that Earth’s video on a loop to taunt me at any given moment?”
Things were better between Bucky and Tony after what happened in Siberia, but the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, according to the actor who portrayed him, liked to give him hell from time to time. It was usually in good fun. Usually.
“So, I shouldn’t tell you it’s Sebastian Stan’s birthday today?” you asked, sucking your lips in as you tried not to giggle.
His nostrils flared again as he took a breath. He was a war hero. The former Winter Soldier turned Avenger. He was not about to be jealous of some actor in another dimension that you’d never see. “Why do you know that?”
“Because the information is right there,” you said, pointing over your shoulder. You had the decency to not turn around. “He was born on August 13th, 1982, in Constanta, Romania and he-”
Your eyes widened as Bucky gently shoved two vibranium fingers into your mouth, pushing them deep enough to make you pause. “Stop talking about the man who can’t keep his fucking tongue in his mouth.”
With a moan, you wrapped your mouth tighter around the digits and bobbed your head. You already choked on him once today. Maybe you’d do it again. Seeing that guy with the bright blue eyes though, he wanted to give you a firm reminder of what he could do to you with his tongue.
Why lust after him when you have me to worship you?
“Why do you like it so much?” he asked as his fingers slipped free.
You began to laugh before he tilted your head to kiss your neck, the sound shifting to a moan. “I don’t like his tongue, Bucky. I like yours.”
“Not good enough,” he murmured against your skin, trying to go slow when he was two seconds away from ripping your clothes off and bending you over the console. “I need you to love my tongue.”
“I do,” you whined, palming him through his pants. “Love when you get it nice and deep, just like your cock. Or when you thrust your fingers in and flick my clit with the tip of your tongue. Make me drip until I’m practically a puddle and you still don’t stop.”
“You and that fucking mouth,” he groaned, laying you back as best as he could and sliding your skirt up. The growing stain on your panties made him twitch and he told himself it had nothing to do with the actor who played his part well. It was all him.
“Remember the last time you ate me out?” you asked, biting your lip as he slid your soaked underwear down your legs. As much as he wanted to shove them in your mouth because he loved making you taste yourself, he didn’t want to smother a single sound. “You had me ride your face and it wasn’t enough. You spun me around after the first orgasm and kept your tongue inside when I got my mouth on your cock.”
That position deserves more attention.
“It’s never enough. I always want more,” he said, taking in the glistening lips of your pussy as he glanced down at what belonged to him and licking his lips as he ran a finger along the slit. “If you could eat yourself out, you’d understand why I love being buried between your thighs.”
“I’ll settle for your cock,” you said as he sank to his knees, a shuddering breath leaving your body. “And I’ll also settle for your tongue first.”
“Should make you beg for it,” he said in a low voice, taking a long lick and groaning at your taste. Sweet and a bit tangy, a hint of your essence coating his taste buds and daring him to have more. “Should slap this pretty pussy and remind you exactly who it belongs to.”
“It’s yours. It blelongs to you, Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. No one else,” you said, your hand shooting out to grip his long hair and twist the stands. “Get your tongue or your cock in me. I’m begging you.”
Bucky smirked, watching your hole clench around nothing. He’d fill you up the way you need. “That’s my good girl. Gonna make a mess all over this. Might make you lick it up when we’re finished.”
“Not to interrupt?” Steve’s voice rang out over the room speaker as Bucky gripped your thighs. “But I think the speaker is on and we can kind of hear everything?”
And you’re telling us now?!
“Stark has bet me twenty bucks that your lady will call out Sebastian’s name when you bring her to orgasm,” Thor chimed in. “Just so you know, my friend, I have the utmost faith that you will please her.”
You let go of Bucky’s hair to cover your mouth, your body shaking with laughter when he growled.
Of course, I fucking will.
“Make it forty bucks, Point Break. Ha. Bucks. Bucky. Yeah, get to it.”
“You heard the man,” you said through your laughter, not at all embarrassed by the commentary. “Get to it.”
Taking one last look at Sebastian’s face on the screen, Bucky smiled in determination and did exactly that.
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Happy Sinday! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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sorcerersseestars · 5 months
Text
LIMERENCE (part I)
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Gojo Satoru x gn!reader
"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."
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summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?
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pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader
fandom: jujutsu kaisen
genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort
warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)
word count: 3.6k
a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥
part ii
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“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.
Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”
He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.
“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”
“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.
“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”
“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.
You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.
But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.
You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.
It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.
Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?
You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”
“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.
“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”
“Are you sure?”
His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?
You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.
Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.
“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”
Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.
You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.
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You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.
Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.
With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.
More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.
You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.
You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.
You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.
“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.
“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”
That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.
“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”
You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?
You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.
“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.
You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”
She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”
You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”
“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”
“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.
She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”
She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.
You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.
“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.
You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”
“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”
You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.
“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.
She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”
You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.
“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
She stops.
“What?”
You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.
“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Have you tried talking to him about it?”
You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”
Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?
You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.
“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.
“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”
A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.
“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.
“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”
“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”
“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”
You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.
“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”
Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”
Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.
Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?
Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.
“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”
Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”
You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?
You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.
“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”
Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?
“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”
“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.
Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”
“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”
She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”
Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.
“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”
You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.
“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”
“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.
“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”
When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.
The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.
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It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.
You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—
No, you can’t even think that.
Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.
Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.
“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”
That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.
“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.
His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.
“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.
You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.
The next three words uttered still your heart.
“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.
You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.
Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.
Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”
There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.
Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.
She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”
Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”
“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”
“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.
Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.
Shoko recovers quickly this time.
“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”
“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”
Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.
“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.
“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”
There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”
Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”
Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.
“What about (Y/N)?”
You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.
Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”
“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”
He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”
You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?
Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.
You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.
Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.
You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.
With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.
In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.
“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.
Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”
Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”
“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”
“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”
He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.
Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”
She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”
Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”
What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?
As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?
And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?
Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.
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PART II
credit 🩷:
@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider
*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)
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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months
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The Crew Heads with Reader: Television
G/N. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo).
Bro Code | Dinner | Shopping | Television
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Samuel replaces your old crackly television-
A relic from the 90s where you can almost count the pixels and a logo is permanently burned into the screen-
with a 4k monstrosity.
Jake's choice of words but monstrosity is a bit harsh, Eli thinks. Knowing Samuel-
(and Eli does now know him too well to bear thinking about. Seriously, how on earth has that happened?! but that's a train of thought for another time.)
It'll be the best. Top of the line and no expenses spared.
Except.
"It's too big," Eli comments as Jake starts to rip open the cardboard and packaging.
"Yep," Jake grins. Focused on the task at hand though never giving up an opportunity to rib Samuel, "70 inches for Y/N's tiny apartment. Can tell you dropped out of middle school."
"Shut up," is all Samuel manages to muster and the other two snort in response.
Samuel scoffs. Refuses to admit that yes, it is far too big. That only now he has realised it'll take up at least half the dividing wall between the living room and your bedroom, and there is nowhere near enough space to get a good viewing distance.
Which, by the way, has nothing to do with being a dropout.
Refusing to sink to their level and asinine comments, he continues to supervise. Watching Eli now joining to rip away the plastic and styrofoam and cardboard. Doesn't lift a finger to help. Why should he? He's already opened his wallet.
.
.
"Hey, brat," Jake shouts. Even with his and Eli's immense strength, they struggle to manoeuvre the awkwardly oversized, unwieldy object to position on the wall. "Come help out if you wanna join in in anymore movie nights."
Everyone knows 'brat' is Johan, who is currently lounging on the sofa. The insult having been tossed out casually one time by you, then adopted by everyone else because, hey - it's apt.
Johan rolls his eyes. Unglues himself from the sofa and acts as if this is an absolute waste of his time. That he has been thoroughly put out by needing to help these idiots.
But the additional pair of hands make quick work of hanging up the TV. Eli and Johan holding opposite sides as Jake tightens the screws.
Once done, all three stand back to admire their handiwork and the new screen. The sleek lines and shiny edging.
Oohs and aahs as Samuel flicks through the channels and sets it up.
United for once in front of the new technology, like cavemen when fire was first discovered.
.
.
You step back to take in the screen.
Then another.
And another.
And another-
The back of your legs hits the sofa. You start to flail but Eli grips you around the waist, steadying you before you stumble.
Huh. There are no more steps to take and the screen is still fucking huge.
(The quiet unnerved you when you first step foot through the door. You're used to coming home to voices raised and squabbling. The occasional broken ornament, dented pan, broken chair.
You had walked in to find them all looking equally pleased, which unnerved you even more.
Until you noticed the new television.)
"Thanks Sammy." You smile at him and he ignores the heat rising to his cheeks, "This is great. Really. But isn't it a bit... big?"
Eli chuckles as Jake stage-whispers, "Sammy failed math,"
"Samuel," Sammy corrects, out of habit more than anything, "I'm only being considerate of Johan's shit eyesight."
Johan doesn't bother to look up from his phone. "Fuck off, four eyes."
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ellielatinagf · 25 days
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Ellie Williams in Covid head cannons
Sooooo this is just a small idea I had because I’ve never seen anyone else do this soooooooo. Our poor girly in yet another epidemic. Love you all!
Warnings: a tiny bit nsfw content, cursing, for the girls only pleaseee, lmk if there’s anything else
Was absolutely thrilled when everyone was advised to stay inside because she’s such an antisocial loser untilllllll she saw how everyone was rapidly spreading the disease. She’s low key a germaphobe.
Totally had a YouTube channel which consisted of her recording herself doing nothing but laying on the couch with you watching tv. Her only subscribers were Jesse, Joel, and Dina and some rando from Tennessee.
She found a new obsession every week and now the garage is filled with boxes of old paintings, crochet chickens, and diy art stuff.
Had ranked every Ramen noodle flavor from best to worst
Absolutely freaked OUT when you got Covid from your job and she ended up sleeping over at Joel’s. She actually refused to come back untill you showed her how you deep cleaned the whole house.
Ellie on FaceTime
Ellie: wait babe lemme see right there on the dresser
You: Ellie I literally wiped it down twice
Ellie: well I didn’t see it
Tried to make cookies one time and thought they were perfect and crispy around the edges. They really tasted like chips and she got mad when you laughed and claimed you never take her seriously.
Okay I’m sorry but she was a horny monster like cmon she was in the house all day with you like how can she not.
Had an obsession with the Big Bang theory and made you watch it with her and explained all the science stuff which she knew for the most part. On the ones she didn’t know she’d yap about it till you looked it up and she’d gaslight you into thinking she was right.
You: “Umm babe google says……”
Ellie: “that’s literally what I was saying”
She was at Joel’s house one time helping him make more guitars. She accidentally cut herself and when you demanded she go to the hospital which she was terrified of because of all the Covid patients getting her sick she went like this
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“Hold on babe i watched greys anatomy”
Fell victim to the meme pages all in her camera roll that were like this
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Hated zoom meetings but she’d be the type to hold her phone on the screen and watch those Roblox Tik toks.
I know i already said she was a fortnite god but that girl watched every single fortnite concert at the time and made sure you were right there with her and she made sure to clip the whole thing even though when watching the clip back her and Jesse were yelling their asses off. She loved season three of fortnite.
Ellie: “ HURRY UP BABE TRAVIS SCOTT IS GONNA PREFORM OH MY GOD JESSE WHERE ARE YOU!!!”
Ellie hated when people overstocked at the grocery store meanwhile she did the exact same thing because she was paranoid and it came in hand since you guys wouldn’t need to go grocery shopping for at least a week and a half
Ellie also discovered games with an emotional storyline like Detroit becomes human, red dead redemption, resident evil, ect. And had a phase where she’d be all poetic and shit thinking she was Shakespeare, she got tired of talking like she was from the 1800s.
Ellie: “my love, your eyes, they remind me of a thousand sunsets…”
You: “did you take out the trash?”
She had all her favorite YouTubers and would watch them on the tv and she’d make you play among us with her because that was “the game of century” as she proclaimed.
She actually had a small mini breakdown because our poor girl found out Joel had Covid and remember that in the news it said older people were more at risk. The poor girl though Joel was gonna die and you laid in bed with Ellie who was sniffling and crying in your shirt while you rubbed her back. Those always calm her down. Then when Joel was better again she made you pinky promise not to tell anyone anything. But she did end up calling Joel more frequently.
You guys actually had spent a lot of time together and most couples who spent so much time together broke up and got bored and such and such but you two actually enjoyed you time together. You and Ellie would would go to an open park where no one was around and watch the sunset and talk about what your plans were after everything was back to normal. Ellie asked if you two could get a puppy and who can ever say no to those eyes and freckles cheeks?
Another thing you guys liked to do was spent all day in bed and cuddling. Now a lot of people will assume Ellie would be the big spoon and that can be true sometimes but the girl is a hugeeeeeee softie. She loved being the little spoon because she felt safe by feeling your soft breath ok her back or shoulder. And she’s hold a dinosaur plushie. Like always.
She cried when she watched videos of family’s finally being able to reunite or grandparents watching their families through a class. Who didn’t cry?
She loved playing just dance with you and she’d purposely pick a song where you both had to dance together because she never has the balls to ask you to dance to with her.
She had a little camcorder where she recorded almost everything in your lives at that point. You brushing your teeth, both of you eating cereal, having tickle fights, ect. What Ellie doesn’t know is that now you sometimes go to the camcorder and watch the old videos and she’d a tear here and there because you loved the memories.
Some how she was actually a beast at the toilet paper kick up challenge and got a good 14 kick ups.
You cannot tell me she didn’t buy those apple juices that actually founded like apples when you bit into them.
I lowkey just had an idea of what Ellie would be like at this time sooooo lmk what other hcs you guys might want! Also be sure to let me know if you’d like to be in the Taglists! Don’t forget to talk about Palestine guys! Free Palestine 🇵🇸 🇵🇸🇵🇸
Taglists: @vqxen @bready101 @lilylynne11 @Lively-blues @Yurixxiii @vampyangel @gato-chino @a-little-bit-of-everybody @abbysbraids
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Note
your art makes me explode in a positive way like
im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like
it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF
anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies
Thank you so much, really appreciate it!
Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can
✨Showtime HCs! ✨
Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.
(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).
So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.
Then the feelings appear.
Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.
It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--
Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).
Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}
All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).
He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.
His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.
When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.
Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).
Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.
Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.
When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.
It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.
Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.
What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!
It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"
Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.
(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)
Caine finds out that yes, there is.
Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.
"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.
So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.
Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.
If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?
Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.
Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.
Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.
And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.
Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.
When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.
Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"
Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.
Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.
And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.
Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.
Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.
When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.
It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.
The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.
This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.
By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.
Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.
Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk!
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hiraya-rawr · 1 year
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looking for your favorites 3 (sagau)
synopsis !! they can't possibly be your favorite character. . . right?
characters !! wanderer, scaramouche, chongyun, abyss prince aether, razor
note !! EVERYTHING WAS WRITTEN IN MY FREETIME bit by bit, hence why it sometimes sounds a little off i guess? i tried to fix it as much as i could ++ I'm honestly not sure if I can continue writing for the og sagau concept, I keep twisting it into something else eeh- heheheh
contains !! gn reader, mild religious themes, honestly the sagau concept is a little everywhere in this one, i couldnt seem to settle on one type, spoilers on sumeru's archon quest, scaramouche/wanderer spoilers
• • •
A Genshin Player typically has a variety of characters to choose from. Such options can range from free-to-play characters to limited five stars. Regardless of how much one invested in the game, they're bound to have at least a handful of options.
This is what all characters are aware of— that they are options among hundreds to thousands of vision holders across Teyvat, with every character being special and enticing in their own way.
There's no way they could be the favorite.
Right?
[x] WANDERER
He doesn't quite know who he is.
He doesn't understand what his purpose is either.
He just wanders, lost, nation to nation in hopes of maybe discovering a sense of fulfillment.
And with all the wandering he's done, he -of course- has heard about you. A special entity to this world. A small part of him wonders if you'd know the answers to his questions (or perhaps, you could make use of him? If he could be useful to someone like you, then surely he would feel fulfilled?).
Despite his quiet hopes, he wasn't in any rush to find you. Nor did he hope for you to actually make use of him. He just continued wandering, from the mountains of Liyue to the forests of Sumeru— all the way to where he is now. The barren desert, with nothing but sand for miles and miles to see (and perhaps that rather intimidating, flipped pyramid at a distance).
Needless to say, he wasn't expecting you of all people to follow his tracks out into the desert.
At first you were just a spech amongst the sands, then you became clearer with your approach, showing more and more the familiar features he once saw in passing amongst statues or paintings.
When you were finally within hearing distance, you raised a hand as if to call out his name, hesitating for a moment before deciding what to say—
"Wanderer!"
He tilts his head, pausing to face you as you walk closer. The sand around you stills, as if no longer fighting against every footstep you take, and instead assisting you to come closer.
"You are. . . the one this world was created for, right?" He asks unsure as soon as you were close enough
"I suppose I am?" You reply with a laugh, and he finds that he quite likes your laugh. "I tried looking for you, I'm glad I caught up before you got too deep into the desert."
"You tried looking for me. . ? Why?"
"Because how could I visit Teyvat without meeting you?" You smile softly. He looks away, it doesn't make sense.
"Meeting me, huh. . . then may I ask for a favor?"
"Anything you want."
His eyes catches yours -sunlight hitting them just right- and without missing a beat, "Can I be of use to you? Can you give me purpose?"
You freeze, hands to your side as you stare back at him. In truth, you were expecting something like this, but now? So soon on your first meeting? He looks back seriously.
"Sca– Wanderer," You begin, "You're doing this. . . to find out who you are, right?"
He nods. You sigh.
"Well. . . I know a friend back in the city who can help you. They're a traveler as well. In fact, you can say they're a friend of yours!"
"A friend of mine. . ?"
"Trust me. You'll love them. And shall we go back?"
Go back? He wonders. There's miles and miles of sand around you.
"It would be nightfall soon. I don't think we'd be able to make it back today. I'm sorry."
You turn to him, lips in a wide smile. There's something wrapped between your fingers as you hold it out for him to catch. He opens his palm, it settles down slowly— it's. . . an anemo vision. Glowing brightly.
"Why walk when we can fly?" You grin.
bonus :
"Don't you feel hot at all?" You whine, shielding your eyes from the glare of sunlight.
"I have a hat."
"I see. . . "
[x] SCARAMOUCHE
* It's conflicting, really. Scaramouche despises gods— their invisible influence taunting him like he was a defective product, like he should be ashamed to ever think he could stand on their level.
* You were... an oddity in his feelings towards such powerful beings. The world was made for you, catered to you, and people naturally adored you (just like how they adored the traveler you've shown your favor to).
* So when you, the being which his very world was created for your entertainment, landed in Teyvat, as human as any human could be— he didn't know what to expect.
* He didn't care. There are hundreds for you to meet, and he's not about to wait in line, dilly-dallying for your attention like a common peasant.
* But in the open halls of the Tsaritsa's palace, you approach with the quick pattering of your heels.
* The crowd of Fatui workers naturally part as soon as they noticed your approach. It's odd enough to hear that the player begged to go to Snezhnaya -land of nothing but barren snow- but to rush to Scaramouche's main headquarters? Unheard of!
* Yet there you were, face to face with a single option out of hundreds (the single option you chose).
"What in Teyvat are you. . ." He trails off, his face scrunched between irritation and shock. He doesn't know what to say, really. Would insulting you incur some sort of divine fury?
"I came looking for you!" You reply.
He thinks you're an idiot. He shouldn't call you that, right? Would it damn him to the abyss or something?
"Why. . ." He tries to form the words, "Why in Teyvat would you–" He pauses, looking around at the small crowd.
With a glare, the Fatui agents scatter away from the hall. It doesn't take much to scare them away like little rats. As he turns back to you, you look back unafraid, if not a little excited.
"Why are you here? Do you pity me, is that it?" He asks with a bite to his voice.
"Yes."
"I– what? So you admit it?" He scoffs, is there a limit to your shamelessness? Is this a trait natural to the gods? "Unbelievable."
"I pity you, everything you went through, but that's not the reason why I'm here! Isn't it obvious?" You say, a wide grin beginning to form, "You're my absolute favorite!"
He freezes. What? Absolutely. . . favorite?
As if understanding his speechlessness, you continue on, "I've been wanting to meet you since the very first event– ahem, first time I saw you!"
"You truly are an odd one." He mumbles under his breath because why him? Why the one who was abandoned and used numerous times? He's merely a puppet without a heart.
An empty vessel.
"And why should I believe you?" He says unconvincingly, arms folded. He notices the little chatter behind the walls, those darn recruits are listening in.
"Why would I be here if you're not my favorite?" You quip back.
He scoffs, "I don't know, but there's certainly something wrong with you in the head. You're not exactly what I expected."
"If you were expecting a certain level of power, then I could still do that. I can give you gifts."
". . . gifts?" He tilts his head.
"Artifacts, weapons, talents— they're all for you since the very beginning anyway!"
Artifacts, weapons. . . power? He thinks. Truly, if you were such an ultimate being, you could provide him anything? As if pondering over it, he suddenly pauses.
Yes, indeed you could give him these things.
But why him?
Because of favorites?
How could he be favored when he was once thrown away.
". . . Can you give me a gnosis?" He says, voice uncharacteristically soft.
"Um. . . we'll work on that. Maybe on the later arcs."
[x] CHONGYUN
* Despite modern Liyue's sovereignty from gods, it's still a nation that values traditions and piety. It's natural that with your arrival, you only deserve the best!
* That included invites from some of the highest ranking nobles and guilds. It's no surprise that Xingqiu, the second son of the largest Commerce Guild, makes an appearance to greet you in the Jade Palace, his brother and parents already done with their turns.
* Xingqiu expected a lot from you, maybe discussions of the arts (or perhaps you're even interested in novels?). What he didn't expect was for you to ask such a random question.
"Oh Xingqiu! You're here! Ah– but where's Chongyun?"
He only pauses for a second. Chongyun may be the son of a longstanding exorcist clan, but they're not much to boast about in terms of influence or wealth. Chongyun is... well, Chongyun. His dear best friend.
"I apologize, I wasn't aware that you'd like to meet him as well. Chongyun should be. . . hmm around the harbor by now, perhaps." He stands straight from his bow, "We were planning on meeting after this, your Holiness, to look for haunted h— I mean, to stroll Wuwang Hill."
You already know what they're up to as you clasp your hands together.
"Excellent! I'll go with you!"
"Wait- what?"
* Oh poor Chongyun, he would be a frantic mess in disbelief. It was hard enough to believe that you suddenly went to Liyue, but to approach him of all people? Did you mistake him for someone else? Are you going to ask for directions? Did he do something wrong?
* The thoughts swirling around his head is enough to destabilize his yang energy as you helplessly reassure him that you're there because you want to meet him as soon as you could.
"Chongyun!" You rush up to him, arms wide in an embrace— the cryo allogene freezes in place, stares with his cat-like eyes in wonder because wait, wait, wait– is the one and only controller of this world approaching him for a hug?
"I- Wait, me?" He stutters, tumbling over his words as you smile. His arms are awkwardly raised, unsure if he should hug you back.
"Yes! I met Xingqiu a while back and was wondering why you weren't with him."
"You- you were looking for me?"
"Of course I have! I've always wanted to meet you in person like this!"
As you squeeze him in your arms, you feel him go limp as his face turns red in heat.
"Oh no! His yang energy!"
[x] ABYSS AETHER
Aether knew he was damned. The minute he resolved to see through everything till the end, despite everyone thinking otherwise, he knew no one would understand why he decided to do this.
Alone, is how he decided to do this. So he sits lonely on a throne in the nave of what seems to be a dark cathedral. The walls depicting menacing murals of an era where everything went wrong. The abyss mages that normally float in worship are no where to be seen, just the way he wanted it.
Until you appeared, the little soft patter of footsteps echoing down his aisle, the heavy doors moving back to reveal your underwhelming entrance. He sees you and he wonders if he expected you to come, to blame him or get angry because how could he stray so far from his oh-so-favored sister, Lumine.
Yet, you walk up to him with a look of what seems to be sorrow.
"Are you here to blame me?" He asks and his voice echoes against cavernous walls.
"Blame you? No. . ." You reply.
"Then do you pity me?"
"Aether, I just want to understand." You confidently say, finally by the foot of his throne. He doesn't feel comfortable looking down on you like this, not you, so he stands to approach your eye level.
"Shouldn't you already understand?" He questions, curious.
"I— don't. . . I don't know everything there is to this world."
Aether frowns. Maybe because he was hoping that you of all people -mortal or god- would understand why he's doing this.
"That isn't my problem. There are bigger things for me to think about." He turns away and just before he could take the first step;
"I don't know everything about this world but if it's you– then I want to understand. I'm sure you have your reasons. I trust you more than anything."
He pauses, face in wonder, because how could you trust someone so blindly?
With an exhale and a decision made, he turns to you, "Then follow me. If you want to understand why, then stay with me."
"Okay."
[x] RAZOR
It was a classic welcome— arriving in Mondstadt, touring around the city, greeting the characters you've always wanted to meet. Despite their initial formalities and decorum, you've managed to tone down the professionalism and started to treat each other as friends.
That didn't mean they weren't very open to the idea of you meeting the less. . . civil of the bunch.
"I'd like to visit Wolvendom." You tell the small group. It's another day in the city, enjoying drinks by the taverns under the sun. Lucky for you, the Cavalry Captain and the Outrider have their time off to enjoy with you.
"Oh? Is there a reason why?" Kaeya leans back, head tilted.
"To be honest. . . I wanted to visit Razor. I'm sure you know him!"
Truth be told, you just wanted to meet a certain good wolf cub hidden in the woods. While everyone has went out of their way to meet you, Razor kept to himself in Wolvendom. Perhaps he was too intimidated by the crowds pouring into Mondstadt, or maybe he just wasn't familiar about you, but Razor was nowhere to be seen since your arrival.
". . . Razor?" Kaeya says hesitantly, "Hmm while I have no problem with you going to Wolvendom to meet him, there is another issue. . ."
"What issue?"
"The knights decided not to let you meet Razor," Amber quips in, "I mean– It's not that there's anything bad about him, it's just that he hasn't learned his manners yet. We thought it might be disrespectful if he met you so soon."
"Disrespectful?" You voice out in shock.
"Of course we know that you're not strict about that now! But I guess we never clarified the situation with Razor. . "
You huff, standing up tall with new resolve, "That's it! We're going out to find Razor and give him the biggest hug ever!"
"We are?" They echo back in unison.
"Yes we are!" You hook both your arms around theirs, dragging them out the gates of Mondstadt.
ko-fi support || general m.list
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haggishlyhagging · 9 months
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Waiting is part of the stereotyped role for women—a large part. Waiting to grow, for breasts and hips to fill out, to wear lipstick, perfume, brassieres: waiting to star in the big role—man enticer. Waiting to be asked for a date. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting, waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting to be asked to dance. Waiting to be asked to go steady. Waiting to be asked to marry. Always waiting for someone else to act. Passively, miserably waiting.
And if the phone doesn't ring? If no one asks? If you wait, and wait, and wait, and Prince Charming doesn't come riding up? What can you do?
In the fifties, when I was a young woman, there was nothing you could do and still be considered decent. Being able to choose and act on that choice was a privilege reserved for men. That should have told me something. I think it did, but I didn't want—or didn't know how—to deal with it at the time. So I put it away in that deep unconscious filing cabinet reserved for matters which must have frightened me with their too-clear implications of female servitude and subordination. It took me forty-two years of gathering such data unbeknownst to myself before I finally accumulated more than my file could hold and it burst open, forcing me to look.
Waiting is one of the earmarks of subservience. As Milton truly says, "They also serve who only stand and wait." Waiting is a service. The words waitress, lady-in-waiting, waiter are all service titles. Waiting delineates rank. Sergeants don't keep colonels waiting, but generals do. Teachers don't keep principals waiting, but superintendents do. Those in power can make their subordinates wait, can expect them to wait. To keep someone waiting is manipulation, a method of maintaining control; it is a way of announcing and wielding power.
My unconscious servitude to Rick began early in our courtship. I remember sitting on a bench by the service station for several hours while he fixed his car. It was an unspoken assumption in my youth that girls loved to keep boys company during such times, liked to hold things for them, enjoyed watching them clean the points, or change the brake shoes. Having their girl hovering around must have been like having their own private cheerleader. Girls did it because we wanted to be with them more than they wanted to be with us. We were more emotionally dependent upon them, as we had been trained to be. We needed to be around them, and though they liked having us around, they had other interests in their lives. We had been trained to have only one major interest, despite all the other things we might do, and that was them. Not because it is any more natural for us females to be dependent and to base our entire lives upon some male's approval and presence, but because patriarchy socialized us thus. It is great for male egos. It is catastrophic for ours.
But I didn't get a real taste of the despotism of waiting until Rick discovered the computer at the University of Minnesota. The next ten years were one long struggle against the humiliation of being constantly rejected for the computer—Rick's "iron mistress," his "three sexty." Ten years of being completely forgotten for whole days and suddenly remembered apologetically, of my putting the uneaten supper away and going to bed at midnight or one or two A.M., not having heard from Rick since morning when he promised to be home by six.
That he should have thought it natural to keep a human being waiting for six, seven, twelve hours without word made it clear to me again and again how he thought of me, how not completely human I was to him, how much just a part of himself—not a separate or real person to be taken seriously, or about whose esteem he needed to worry. He would never have kept any male friend whose friendship he valued waiting so consistently for years. No peer would have put up with it.
At the time, I thought it was all my fault. If I were more interesting, more sexy, more something, he would want to come home to me. I blamed myself, when the fault lay in Rick's patriarchal world view.
Part of the unwritten definition of wife is: the one who waits.
I tried to tell Rick over those long years how often I felt rejected and figuratively slapped in the face. I couldn't help but believe he secretly enjoyed the idea of my waiting for him, the constant service of wondering and worrying about him in his absence. Surely there was something more behind his making me wait than mere forgetfulness. He was an extremely intelligent man, but I couldn't get him to understand how deeply he wounded me by showing disdain for the hours of my life I wasted in waiting for him and for the hurt and rage and erosion of love for him this brought about in my heart.
And through it all, I must never make him wait for me. I must never reverse the sadomasochistic game. Yet by calling it that, I admit my own collusion in it. Years ago I should have ceased to care unduly when he came or went, should have planned my life as I wanted without consulting his. Should simply not have allowed him to tyrannize and manipulate me. But I knew that the moment I refused to supply this apparently necessary ego support, I would lose him.
And I did. When I became interested in the ERA, he often had to wait for me—to get off the phone, to come home from meetings, to come to bed. I ceased to pay much attention to when he came and went. I no longer cared a great deal when he was hours late or rejoiced overmuch when he was early. My life no longer centered around him, as his had never centered around me. I began to live an independent life, such as only men are entitled to. That's when I overstepped my bounds and it was all over.
And I've thought since, with considerable wryness, how for nineteen years I waited for him, and how he couldn't wait for me for one.
-Sonia Johnson, From Housewife to Heretic
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ticklishchaos · 2 months
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Maybe You Just Need More Convincing
Adam gets his everloving shit wrecked from some of the Hotel Staff in order to convince him sinners really can be redeemed. Charlie also recruits Lucifer to give them a hand, in more ways than one.
Warnings for foul language, some violence, suggestive humor (nothing extreme, just some totally in chatacter comments), my shitty grammar/punctuation, and lots of fluff/tickles. I hope you enjoy!! :3
It was no secret that Adam was heaven (and hell's) resident douchebag. He was stuck up, conceited, and completely self-centered. He had no real intentions of giving Hazbin Hotel a shot. He hadn't even shown up in person to the meeting in which was arranged originally between himself and Lucifer. And after Lucifer's daughter had stood in Lucifer's place at that meeting, well, Adam just couldn't take anything the princess of hell had to say seriously.
Charlie Morningstar was less than pleased to discover that the angels were going to be on a new six month extermination schedule. How was that even fair? It was so frustrating that Adam had flat out refused to listen to reason or even take Charlie's pitch of redemption even halfway seriously. He spent most of their allotted meeting time making sexist comments, talking about himself, interrupting anything Charlie had to say, and eating his pile of ribs in the most obnoxious and rude way possible.
Charlie had to think of a way to truly convince the head angel to call off the extermination and redeem those who were taking their path to redemption through the hotel seriously. But no song, no dramatic speech, no amount of begging or pleading could convince the dickhead that her Hotel would ever actually work.
"How could we actually convince heavens top angel to take our Hotel seriously?" Charlie had asked the staff and two meager residents in a meeting that was originally to be comprised of forgiveness role-playing and trust exercises. The change of routine was much welcomed by all, though they'd never explicitly tell Charlie that.
"We could just kill him?" Alastor suggested, his grin broadening and eyes darkening at the thought.
"That wouldn't be a good way to exemplify our goals or show redemption," Charlie paused. "We just need to figure out a weakness, you know, find something that we could use against him! Does anyone have any... less violent ideas?" She shoots Alastor a sympathetic smile.
"Vicious blackmail?" Angel suggests casually. He has the day off, and while he'd rather be scoring drugs or drinking at the bar with Husk's sole company, this discussion is far better than trust exercises.
"That's a less violent alternative," Charlie comments, "But still shady..."
"Listen toots, we aren't gonna convince Adam or anyone else to take us seriously if we don't play at least a little bit dirty," Angel tucks his upper set of arms behind his neck in a bored gesture.
"Angel has a point, Charlie. They wouldn't listen to reason, and the angels are notorious for not playing fair. I know you're trying to find a way that isn't violent or unconventional, but we might not have much of a choice. Especially if we want to defend our people," Vaggie steps closer to Charlie to embrace her briefly.
"Blackmail... nonviolent... unconventional... playing dirty..." Charlie thinks briefly about the options that fall under all these categories, and suddenly her face breaks out into a wide and evil grin. "I know exactly what we have to do! And I know just the person to call to ensure this plan will work. But I'm 99.9% positive, and it'll be foolproof!"
••••
"You want to what?" Lucifer's voice raises an octave. Unsure of what exactly this favor was his nearly estranged daughter had asked of him, he couldn't tell her no. But he hadn't known this was the specific favor in question until he arrived to the hotel. And Charlie had intentionally left out a few key details.
Had Lucifer known his precious daughter and hotel patronage had planned to exploit his ticklishness, he would've very well declined and spent the afternoon with his vast collection of rubber ducks.
"But that's only part of the favor. We also need you to arrange a meeting with Adam face to face. But first we need to know if this plan will work," Charlie's voice at the end was near pleading. Lucifer almost felt sorry for her, but what did this have to do with tickling him?
"I can arrange him to meet you all in person," Lucifer spoke slowly' "but what the hell does this have to do with tickling me?" His voice rose to a strangled octave, indicating that he was indeed ticklish.
"Mr. Morningstar, erm, your majesty, Charlie pointed out that you and Adam have similar angelic traits... so we figured that if you were... also inflicted the same weakness... We might actually have a shot at bringing that Adam prick down a few pegs," Vaggie nervously stepped forward to shake her girlfriends father's hand.
"I'd like to peg him," Angel murmered, earning a few looks of utter horror he quickly added "Adam, I meant Adam! Besides haven't you heard of hate fucking?" Angel grumbled defensively.
Lucifer turned back to Charlie.
"So you're asking me... if you can find various sensitive spots on my body... to use on Adam... in hopes of getting him to call of the next extermination?"
Charlie nodded enthusiastically and damnnit, Lucifer just couldn't say no to her.
"Okay, okay, okay... But a few things first... I'm only letting you do this as part of that favor. If anyone here ever tries to tickle me outside this one stand alone instance, consider yourselves to be absolutely wrecked. As ticklish as I am, I will ensure to pay you back in kind tenfold if any of you pull a stunt like this outside this small window of time. I'm only doing this because it would be nice to knock that dickhead down a few pegs."
His threat clung to the air a few moments. The king of hell was known to be ruthless, and he was a force to be reckoned with.
"Thanks dad!" Charlie reached over to hug him. Something the two hadn't done in such a long time but their embrace felt familiar. Normal even.
"A couple of other points..." Lucifer told the group, "an angels wings are the most sensitive, pretty much everywhere. Between the feathers, shoulder blades, wing pits, I mean, it's lethal... Lilith used to..."
Lucifer couldn't help but turn a blushy pink color at the mention of his former wife. He hadn't been properly tickled since... well, it had been quite some time. Lilith wasn't a stranger to tickling Lucifer to tears, but she was the only one to ever indulge in his weakness. He was never tickled by anyone other than Lilith. And cetainly not by this many people. Charlie had grown up with witnessing Lillith tickle him to pieces. Faint memories of her father squealing, shrieking, and downright begging Lilith not to tickle him while laughing helplessly. But Lilith had always been able to easily overpower her much smaller husband. But Charlie also knew how Lucifer could hold his own. She knew what a fierce tickle monster he could be in her own experiences and knew by watching her parents in her much younger days that Lucifer almost always sought revenge.
Lucifer kept reminding himself that this was necessary. He knew this was to help his people of hell, his daughter even, but being demon royalty and exposing his most innate physical weakness and allowing others to take advantage of it was downright terrifying. It had been bad then, but now? Lucifer let out an involuntary shudder.
"For Adam, specifically, I'm led to believe that he would have another weak point aside from his wings. But if his wings are anything like mine, then you shouldn't have much trouble!"
Lucifer tried his hardest to ignore the shit eating grins forming on the faces of both Angel Dust and Alastor. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But he remembered his favor to Charlie, and all the memories of his past tickling experiences and thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
"Please, do tell us of any other weak spots you think the angel will have, your royal higness!" Alastor chimes in, eager to have something to use against both Adam and Lucifer.
"God removed one of Adam's ribs to create his new wife. And being touched by that amount of power would absolutely cause that spot to be more sensitive... It's basically a given."
"So torture the guys wings and ribs, got it," Angel smirked.
"Torture Adam's wings and ribs," Lucifer clarified "you motherfuckers better go easy with me." Lucifer couldn't help but back away nervously from the group. Unfortunately for him, there was only so far he could back up before his back collided with the wall of the Hotel lobby adjacent to where Husk was sleeping at the bar. At least Nifffty and Husk weren't involved in this scheme.
"Anything else we need to know before we tickle you to death?" Charlie asked almost sympathetically as Vaggie, Angel, and Alastor closed in on the king of hell.
"Sixty seconds. Do NOT exceed sixty seconds." Four against one was definitely not a fair match.
Lucifer wasn't given time to think while the group circled around him. Shit. Fuck. Shit.
"Sixty seconds," Charlie clarified, "starting in 3..."
Why the fuck did he agree to this again?
"2..."
This really had better work on Adam. Otherwise Lucifer knew he'd be totally fucked around Alastor, Angel and Vaggie, who all seemed to take pure delight in discovering the king of hell was ridiculously ticklish. Why did Charlie have to tell them?
"1..."
Shit. And he was lost in helpless, screech filled laughter. Lucifer had curled into a ball as ten arms and countless tickling fingers dug into almost all his ticklish spots.
"WHAHAHAHAHHAHT THE FUHUHUHCK AHHAH STAHAP!" Lucifer pleaded, knowing it hadn't even been 10 seconds yet.
Alastor had taken the liberty in casting a temporary paralysis spell on Lucifer so he couldn't even protect his worst spots. He had taken this opportunity to also tickle the smaller demon's shoulder blades which shook helplessly as his six magnificent wings unfurled.
Angel and Vaggie started to explore his wings and Lucifer had severely underestimated just how much it would tickle.
"OohoHAHAhaA, IHIHIHT tiHIHihihCkles HAhahHa soHo mUhUHUHUCH AHAhaHa!" Lucifer squealed as Angel and Vaggie had tickled the soft skin beneath his feathers, Angel's extra set of hands had made quick work of his wing pits which caused his laughter to shoot up an octave.
"That's kind of the point, short king," Alastor teased as he had switched to taser his sides while Charlie had been scribbling at his ribs, grinning madly as her plan had seemed now that it could be executed without fail.
Lucifer was in absolute tickle hell. Literally. The sensation of Vaggie and Angel mercilessly tickling his wings, scritching the skin beneath his feathers, digging into the sensitive wing pits and occasionally poking and scratching at his shoulder blades combined with Alastor squeezing his sides and Charlie torturing his ribs had nearly caused Lucifer to break. He couldn't move to protect his tickle spots. And all he could do was laugh and shriek and hope the ticklish assault would end whenever the alloted minute was up.
"I didn't think you'd still be this ticklish!" Charlie cooed.
"OkAYHAHAHhahAH! SEhehee? IHAH- I TOHOAHAHHOLD YOUHOO AHAHhahah it WOHOULD WORK!" Lucifer cackled.
He never had four people tickle him at once before. It was the most ticklish he'd ever felt in his entire life. It wasn't fair to have all his tickle spots exploited at once!
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of cackling, the minute had passed and as promised, Charlie called off the experimental tickle attack. Alastor reversed the spell and Lucifer had crumpled to a giggling panting mess on the floor, overstimulated from all the tickles and trying to rub away the residual ghost tickles.
"So was that 60 seconds of getting your everloving shit rocked, short king?" Angel grins down at Lucifer.
"Seriously, fuck you guys," Lucifer giggles.
"Think this will actually work on Adam?" Vaggie turns to Charlie beaming as she helps her one day father-in-law off the floor.
"It has to!" Charlie says with pure confidence.
"Thanks, dad, for helping us prove our theory to be true. Adam won't stand a chance against us." Charlie hugs the still giggling Lucifer around the middle.
"I don't mind seeing that loser taken down, I'm... glad I could help, but seriously, that was awful," Lucifer says, hugging Charlie back.
"I'll arrange for Adam to arrive here tomorrow and then you can convince him to listen."
●●●●
Adam was irritated. Sure, the king of hell was able to order him to meet in person to discuss business matters, but that didn't mean he wanted to. If it were up to him, he would meet through holographic magic, but Lucifer had strictly forbidden it for this meeting only.
So here he was, at the hotel's doorstep, expecting to meet with Lucifer and returning to report back to heaven as soon as this mandated meeting was concluded.
What Adam wasn't expecting, however, was to be met with Alastor, opening the door positively beaming at him.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. Why, you must be Adam, we've all been dying to meet you! Well, if it weren't for the fact that we are already dead!" Alastor chuckles at his own joke. "Do come in!"
"Who in the fuck are you?" Adam glares at Alastor, wary of the taller demon.
"Why, I'm Alastor, the infamous radio demon of hell and manager of this fine establishment! Allow me to show you around hell's only rehabilitation center for lost souls!" Alastor grabs Adam's wrist and drags him through the hotel lobby toward the bar.
"Allow Husker to pour you a drink, on the house!" Alastor grins at Adam's sheer befuddlement. He was out of his element here in unfamiliar territory. Husk pours an unmarked liquid into a glass and slides it toward Adam.
"...uh, thanks... but when am I supposed to meet with Lucifer?" Adam looks at the drink as if it were poisonous.
"Don't be a silly! We would never think to poison the one and only angel who had the power to permanently end the exterminations of hell's residents!" Alastor laughs as if he could read Adam's mind.
"And Lucifer will be here soon, but we have other eager candidates to speak with you before hand!" Alastor continues smirking as Adam slowly begins to drink from the glass.
That's when Adam turns and notices Vaggie, Charlie, and Angel behind him, a bit too close for comfort. And suddenly, Adam finds himself unable to move, thanks to Alastor's demonic power and curse of immobility.
"What the actual FUCK, Charlie?" Adam tries to writhe away but is unable to do so.
"Adam, thank you for joining us today! We thought it might take a team approach to convince you that our redemption center deserves a chance to save sinners from extermination," Charlie smiles.
"I already fuckin told you that hell is eternal damnation, I'm not changing my mind and I think that your hotel is a worthless waste of time!" Adam spits angrily.
"Maybe you just need more convincing..." Angel smiles, excited to be able to have one over on this pompous angel prick.
"I said Noho!" Adam let's out a startled Huff as Charlie prods his side near the bottom of his ribs.
"I don't think you're in a position to refuse our quite reasonable requests." Alastor chuckles.
"What are you all playing at?" Adam sneers, albeit nervously.
Torture? Adam now realized three things.
"Well, we can't harm you, obviously, but we found a rather unconventional method of torture to utilize to convince you to take us seriously," Charlie explains.
One: he was outnumbered.
Two: he was completely immobile and couldn't move from whatever power was keeping him trapped.
Three: The poke Charlie had administered to his side had been... well... ticklish... Adam had started to realize that they intended to tickle him. They couldn't. They wouldn't, actually, could they?
"No, no, Charlie. I demand you to release me!"
"Maybe this will help convince you not be such a pompous asshole," Charlie smirked down at Adam evilly.
And suddenly, Adam felt her dig all ten fingers into one of his most ticklish spots, his ribs. And he felt Angel and Alastor tickle into his sensitive shoulder blades, causing his wings to expand.
"Nohohoho, what thehahahhah FUHAHAHAHAHUCK?" Adam squeals.
Vaggie had hopped in to help Charlie tickle his stomach and hips and Adam was in absolute ticklish hell.
"Fuhahahahuck YOHOU GUYS, AHAHAHAHAHA!" Adam can't even squirm away from their torturous fingers. His laughter shoots up an octave as Alastor and Angel tickle into his wings.
No tickle spot was spared on the guy and he couldn't even move or writhe away from the ticklish touches. It wasn't fair!
"Think you'll give the hotel another shot?" Charlie asked, digging sharply into Adam's lower rib cage. Adam's laughter doubled.
"NohohahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Oh shit, Adam! It feels Ike one of your ribs are missing!! Maybe we should count them to see how many are there!" Charlie teases, enjoying how much power they have over Adam.
"FUHUHUCK OHOHOHOHOOFF!" Adam screeches as Charlie proceeds to count and recounts his ribs.
"We've got all day, tough guy!" Angel digs roughly into Adam's wing pits as Alastor digs his claws beneath the feathers to torture the delicate skin beneath. How long had it been? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Adam quickly realizes that he is utterly fucked.
Adam's laughter goes silent. It's not fair to have them all tickle him to pieces. He couldn't even fight back or try to get away. All he could do was lie there and take it. His eyes begin to water as they continue their ticklish onslaught. And Adam just can't handle much more.
"Think we can renegotiate now?" Charlie asks and Adam quickly nods despite his silent hysteria.
"Okay, I think he's had enough," Charlie slows her hands and pulls them away, and the rest of the group follows suit.
Adam lays there panting giggling, still feeling the ticklish assault through his nervous system.
"I hope you won't forget this, as we are easily able to convince you to do exactly as we want," Alastor chuckles darkly, removing the immobility curse.
"Seriously, fuck you guys," Adam flips them off as he uses his magic to dissappear. His tough guy facade had been broken.
Adam would call off the next extermination, out of fear of what would happen to him if he continued to refuse. Now, his greatest enemies knew of his ticklish weakness. He would never be able to live it down. And maybe a part of him didn't want to.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 26 days
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I sincerely hope I’m sending this request correctly. I wanna ask for a pokemon request where reader has a full Unown team with the Paldea crew reaction(Arven, nemona, penny) and maybe the blueberry academy crew reaction. I love unowns they’re my funky little letter guys. Basically the reader is an Unown enthusiast who only ever has unowns and only ever used Unowns. They have all the forms but the six they use are just the ones they took with them to Paldea. They went through Paldea and became champion with a full Unown team. Same with the bb league. I just think it’d be funny to see everyone’s reactions to that. Their partner mon would be Unown O and the other five you could pick cuz Unown O is my favorite letter. And also if u could write the unowns being affectionate with the reader and vice versa. I just like seeing trainers bonding with their pokemon. Thank you and I enjoy your writing!
(Side note: Honestly if ScarVio was able to have unowns in it you’d bet your ass I’d do a full Unown run. I’ve done it for other games. Was disappointed and sad I couldn’t have any unowns in them, sword/shield too.)
I LOVE the Unowns omg. I got a plushie of V and I'm still trying to get shinies and alphas in PLA
My favorite is F because it looks like a little stick figure but I adore all of them very much <3
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.......
General
Ever since discovering the Unown in Johto (Ruins of Alpha) and the two additional forms in Kanto (Tanoby Chambers), you found your calling as a trainer.
An Unown trainer, to be precise.
Unown O was the first one you caught, and has been your battle partner ever since!
You've become something of an enthusiast, asking researchers what they've discovered and documenting the Symbol Pokemon as you collected them.
You've caught so many that you actually encountered a shiny or two--each capture being a success.
Their existence, connection to Arceus, home dimension, and "secret power" when more than one are gathered were all fascinating to you and made you wanna learn more.
You even incorporated some of their designs into your outfit: like gloves and socks that had symbols printed on them, keychains and charms on your jewelry and/or backpack..etc.
All 28 Unown grew to love you, and the ones in your party are super affectionate when you bring them out.
Their favorite game is hide n' seek (taking after their "ancestors" from PLA) around your home, and you like to play along.
Ofc people are wary around Unown given their mysterious nature, but you vow to break that stigma by feeding them treats and letting them nuzzle up to you, showing others that they're just like any other Pokémon: companions who deserved as much love and affection as a Pikachu.
After parting ways with your friends in Kanto and Johto, you don't leave without gifting them an Unown that was the first letter in their name (for Blue you left him a Shiny Unown B...which he still brags about to this day).
You decided to move to Paldea to take your Pokémon training more seriously, attending school and showing off your Unown since they're not native to the region.
Your team consisted of O, as well as N, E, F, R, and M--referring to what all 28 are collectively called (One Form).
Despite knowing they can only use Hidden Power and nothing else (plus the drawbacks from having a psychic-only team), you defied all the odds when you took on not one but TWO championships and won.
And of course, the friends you've made during your journey all got to know the Unown personally.
Paldea
Arven
At first, he thought your Unown team had more to it...until he realized that was ALL you brought to the battlefield.
Just funky letters that only knew one move.
"Oh come on, you're never gonna win with a team like that-"
And then you go and beat him with a team like that, and it shuts him up.
But Arven just rolls his eyes to the sky, making the excuse that he's not used to battling, and moves on.
As you get closer to him, though, and help him take down the Titan Pokémon around Paldea, he warms up to your team and admits they're kinda cool.
He'll only shoo them away if he's making a sandwich, not wanting to be crowded (but tbh he can tolerate Unown O's presence more than your 'raidon's).
You presented him with picks inspired by the designs of some Unown (I, K, T, Y, and !) to hold the ingredients together, and he's thoroughly impressed by your dedication to the craft.
You joked about selling them if you ever went into the art of culinary--yet Arven tells you to seriously consider it.
After the fight with the AI Professor in Area Zero, he sees your entire team pop out of their pokeballs, clearly stressed from being locked inside due to the Paradise Protection Protocol.
You never did a battle without them and were afraid they couldn't protect you, but you reassured them you were okay, letting them stay out during the journey home.
Only then does he realize that sure, they're weird little guys that don't seem all-that powerful, but you treasure them all the same.
Nemona
While she was confused about you not using the Paldea starter the Director offered you..she's HYPED when your real team comes out to play during your first match together: One made entirely of Unown, a Pokémon not even native to Paldea.
She may have read about them in some textbook unrelated to battling and glossed over them.
But to see them in battle left her extremely impressed and asking you dozens of questions afterwards.
They could just change their type when attacking??? She read about Arceus supposedly having that power, but it's awesome that these little letters/symbols can, too!
Despite thinking you'll bore her by having no strategy except "use hidden power", Nemona NEVER wants you to feel discouraged!
She wants to battle your team every time.
As you fight your way through the Pokémon League and all the way up to the Elite Four, she's rooting for you 100%, praising your Unown for overcoming even the toughest terastalized foes.
Knowing your party members, they LOVE praise and are very friendly towards her and her own Pokémon.
If any of them have timid/lonely natures..her words give them a big confidence boost.
And it reflects in their reaction times and how often they'll heal their own status conditions or tank OH-KO hits.
She says you're helping them get stronger every day, but you give her lots of credit, too, for helping you get this far.
Penny
While dealing with Team Star, Giacomo's dark team put your Unown through a world of hurt...
Penny had been watching the battle, worried that he was going to be the reason you failed to squander the organization.
Yet by some miracle, your team came out on top!
Only then does she realize you were more than capable of taking down all the bases.
Unown P comes out to greet her while you've doing an LP exchange, and it scared her pretty badly.
Especially as it just...stares. Occasionally blinking once or twice as she tries talking to you.
Conversations are hard enough for her already, and staring doesn't help matters, so she gets ready to leave-
But then its tune changes when you pat it on the head(?) and it trills happily, snuggling up to you.
Penny had to do a double-take, wondering how it managed to look so cute..but she dismisses your concerns when you asked why she made that face.
Later, after revealing she's the leader and becoming your friend thereafter...she still gets anxious around the Unown from time-to-time, but eventually warms up to their presence.
You don't treat them any differently despite their mysterious nature.
If anything, you care for them just like anyone would a cute Eevee: by spoiling them with love, treats, and sweet words of encouragement.
Penny felt like a hypocrite for being scared of them, considering people used to be scared of Team Star--yet they aren't as evil as everyone made them out to be.
They used to be lonely and misunderstood, just like the Unown were before you found them.
BB Academy
Kieran
When you showed off your team for the first time, Kieran was stunned.. remembering the things he read about them but didn't know they could actually be caught.
All he says when you show him Unown K is "wowzers".
And the journal entries you've logged turned his eyes into stars.
You show him all the photographs of ruins and Unown blending in during your trips to the signboards, rambling about what you've seen and discovered.
He loves listening to your tales..and wishes he could see those places with you.
But what he didn't like, however, was whenever you two had a battle in which your Unown only needed one command to win. You didn't have to try at all.
Even with his team's most supereffective attacks..speed and dumb luck were on your side, crushing his confidence and making him jealous.
It doesn't help when you still decided to keep Ogerpon despite you saying you only ever used Unown.
It wasn't fair.
And ofc by Indigo Disk, Kieran wants nothing more than to destroy your team, insulting them under his breath when he thinks you can't hear him.
You just scowl and cover their nonexistent-ears while they nuzzle up to you--although deep down, you knew he didn't mean those words.
He's just pissed off that he lost sleep and his appetite over training his team, giving them the best moves and items to utilize on the battlefield..only for you to sweep the BB League with a simple command.
He managed to OH-KO one Unown with Incineroar's Darkest Lariat..and that sinister grin you saw on his face was most unnerving.
But you still claimed victory over him and he takes the loss hard.
Down in Area Zero, he's convinced that the "Hidden Treasure" Terapagos can take down your "Hidden Power" team..
But after seeing them form a shield (similar to the crystal one in the Spell of Unown movie) that protects him when the legendary goes rogue..it changed his perspective.
Only then he understood why they were so powerful.
As the Unovian Pokedex said: Alone, nothing happens..but together, Unown are strong and invoke a great power.
When the dust settles, O floats into Kieran's hands, healing the pain in his wrist caused by Terapagos breaking the masterball.
He felt so so guilty for the name-calling and his desires to hurt them. Yet they've all forgiven him.
In a way, Unown remind you of him: small and unassuming, at first glance..but full of great power that's waiting to shine.
During Mochi Mayhem, K stays by his side while he holds off the possessed townspeople and you capture Pecharunt, growing quite attached to him.
And after coming back to the academy, you decide to trade him that Unown, hoping he incorporates it into one of his teams. Be it casual or competitive.
Carmine
Back in Kitakami, she laughed at your "puny"-looking letter Pokémon, thinking them to be weak as she sics Poochyena and Polteageist on them.
While their dark/ghost moves hit the Unown hard, it's Unown O who takes them down with critical hits..and Carmine got LIVID.
She impressed you're sticking with a team that appeared in ancient texts, although that doesn't dissuade her from teasing you about them for a while.
Ngl you nerding out over Unown facts and studies you've recorded reminds her of Kieran infodumping about Ogerpon.
Your Unown just glare at her, and you gotta call them back to your side before they try attacking her outside a battle.
However as time goes on and she warms up to you, meets Ogerpon, etc..she grows to like them more, too.
Eventually she's cheering them on as they take down the Loyal Three and tank their poison attacks.
By Indigo Disk's events, she comes around to genuinely smile at their presence.
Although she had concerns Kieran's new team would be too overwhelming for them...
Yet your team of hieroglyphics won anyways.
And down in Area Zero's underdepths, they invoked a great power to shield the siblings from Terapagos' attacks, protecting the two people who once hated and mocked them with all they had.
As they both break down in tears, some Unown come out of their pokeballs to comfort them, and O stays on your shoulder as you exit the cavern together.
A few photobomb the selfie you take with the twins back at the academy (as well as Kitakami's festival), but it's alright.
Carmine will allow it because you treasured them and they DID save her and her brother's skin.
Drayton
While you did struggle during his trial (due to his "Terarium Pokemon-only" rule), the actual battle caught him by surprise when your Unown swept the floor, taking down his dragons.
How Unown F was able to withstand an Electro Shot was beyond him, but it was sturdy enough to finish the fight with a Fairy-based Hidden Power.
After winning, you both take a selfie in commemoration, with you passing F to Drayton like "can we get an F in the chat" and him humbly accepting it.
It was all in good fun, and looking back on it in your scrapbook made you laugh.
But what you didn't feel good about was him rubbing your victory in Kieran's face after you win the championship, further shattering the kid who nearly keeled over trying to make the perfect team to beat you..only for some "letters" to kick him down into the dirt.
"Wow, that's tough..now are you gonna take the F or L, ex-champ?"
He forgot this kid doesn't understand much internet lingo, but Unown F and Unown L didn't appreciate his jokes, and neither did you.
But after the events in Area Zero, you let it go, eventually deciding to trade him Unown D as your way of thanking him for helping you get close enough to knock sense back into Kieran.
Crispin
Let's face it, he's gonna be staring at your Unown like a Magikarp out of water and ask how they eat..
Or if they eat at all for that matter.
Their eyes just blink and poof, their share of the meal is already gone.
He knows they're psychic Pokémon, but still...
His favorite ones are definitely C (bc of his name) and S (for Spicy), though he's eager to see how your team fairs in battle when you clear his trial.
You warn him it might be "boring" but he acts like you insulted his cooking and begs you not to say that again.
"Every Pokémon battle gets me fired up!!!!! Don't downplay yourself!!!"
Even when your Unown easily douse his Pokémon's flames with Water-based Hidden Power (and Fire for his Exeggcutor), he still had a blast battling you, realizing those little letters are full of vigor and surprises!
He's eager to see what supereffective type they're gonna use next.
When you eventually decide to trade, you contemplate giving him an extra Unown F you had..or a C.
But you settle for the latter, and Crispin promises to feed the little guy well!
Lacey
Unown are small, simple, and make trilling noises...all checking off her criteria of "cute" Pokémon!
Although knowing they're connected to Arceus--the literal god of all 'mons--is an unnerving fact, she agrees that they're adorable and deserve to be treated as such.
She gets to learn your team's different natures, and likes how you're trying to convince people that they're not as scary as the old legends present them.
They love nuzzling up to you, resting on your shoulder and/or head, twirling around, and playing with the local Minior.
That being said..Lacey gets shocked at the punch they pack during battle, with them using Poison or Steel-based Hidden Power to take down her fairies.
It's always the most unsuspecting Pokémon who are the most powerful.
Even if you worry about the battle being boring since all you can give out is one command, she's gonna turn your pessimistic thinking around!
Unown F is her favorite since it's looks like a stick figure, but Unown L is also pretty neat..yet she wonders why Unown ? and Unown ! look tired all the time...
When you trade her a letter/symbol, she's thrilled to welcome yet another cute Pokémon onto her team!
Amarys
Considering their affiliations with ruins and Arceus, the existence of Unown have always piqued her interest.
And you so-happened to be a walking encyclopedia of anything related to the Symbol Pokémon, given the journals you've written on their mannerisms.
Amarys likes reading them over, and thinks a quiz involving the Unown Alphabet would be good to have at BB Academy.
On the other hand, after your battle to climb the League rankings, she wonders if you've ever used other Pokémon..only to find out that you never did.
All you know are Unowns.
She won't force you to change your team members, seeing as they were able to beat ALL of the league members--including Kieran.
But she suggests you had one Unown use Hidden Power on its battle partner, who could hold onto a Weakness Policy.
Yet you're adamant, saying "why would I want one Unown to hurt the other just for a temporary attack boost? :((("
Your team members are besties, your cuddle buddies..how could you do that to them???
Amarys is genuinely touched by how much you care for your Unowns, and vice versa.
Speaking of which, Unown A started hanging around her more often..and she cautiously tries to pet it, surprised by its happy trills, but otherwise acts nonchalant.
When you both decide to trade, you give her that Unown and she promises to look after it.
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