#i apologize that this makes no sense actually
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It sounds like we agree in many ways. Some qualities can’t accurately be put into a box.
I don’t think psych is bullshit- I just graduated this year w/ my BS in psychological science (summa cumme laude, actually). I plan to go for my PhD. That does not mean that I agree with everything said about the field. If you are going to utilize the very fluid categories created by the DSM every few years, you should be doing so in such a way that you are trying to help and support the community.
Tons of stigmas exist surrounding mental health conditions, with autism being a population that faces a great deal. Autism in particular has a lot of attention currently, due to the extreme percentage of people that were previously misdiagnosed. I just went to a conference and listened to a talk about how social media can strengthen the sense of community and aid individuals feeling misunderstood by society, namely within the high-functioning autistic population. For a lot of folks, once they finally hear some of these things online, a light bulb goes off to dig deeper, and they say “AHA! Oh my gosh- there is nothing wrong with me that needs to be fixed… My brain just works a little differently”. Then, they can seek a professional diagnosis. For this reason, the language “disability” is unappealing for some, as it implies a “disadvantage” or “something wrong”- and that is simply not always the case for ASD.
One thing I was taught at university is that nothing is EVER proven in psych- merely supported- so no, I am not “clinging to facts”. I am just inviting you to be more accepting of people openly blogging their experiences (and for all you know- they could have a formal diagnosis). Human consciousness in general can be thought of as a spectrum- not just folks with autism or ADHD.
If your post was merely to make a joke about the crow lord, I apologize. Didn’t mean to ruffle any feathers. You are an excellent writer- and you make for a very fruitful, intelligent, & engaging interaction- I am just working through my own passions against stigma, & sometimes it explodes a bit! No shade, friend :)
TikTok has convinced so many people that you're autistic or ADHD if you have completely typical experiences like "getting songs stuck in your head" or "having a strong sense of social justice" or "reverently kissing the ice-cold crown of the crow lord". No, you do not need to have autism to squeeze your eyes shut and stand completely still as a living statue to demonstrate your total submission to the crow lord. Plenty of neurotypical people bring him tributes of glass beads, tinfoil strips, roadkill, coins from dead men's pockets, and mice or rabbits fattened weeks in advance. Honestly TikTok has become such a dangerous engine for spreading misinformation. I wouldn't be surprised if they provoke the wrath of the crow lord soon.
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Matched
Finnick Odair x fem!victor!reader who are constantly introduced to each other [1.2k words]
CW: people trying to introduce Finnick and reader, Capitol behaviours (body modification, eating-purging-eating, no sense of propriety), fluff, a surprise
You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.
There would be people dressed to varying levels of near insanity. There would be people literally eating until they were sick, then forcing themselves to be sick so that they could continue eating. There would be people approaching you, asking you questions, and running their hands over your clothes or hair or jewelry or body as though having seen the most traumatic moments of your life aired on TV from the safety of their homes made you friends.
And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.
“There you are, darling!” A rather reptilian looking woman you knew to go by Komoda greeted you as she approached; arm aggressively interlocked with another’s who didn’t appear to be all that willing to be there. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”
You plastered on your show time smile and offered your hand to Capitol Darling Finnick Odair who accepted it readily, bowing his head slightly as he met your gaze.
“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”
“It always is in the Capitol.” You volleyed, smiling back over to the Capitol citizen who seemed very excited to be seeing two of her favourite victors intermingling. “Finnick and I have met a few times, actually.”
Komoda seemed rather bemused at the fact that the two of you had met and not immediately jumped each other's bones. “Oh… oh! Really?”
You hummed in the affirmative.
“Every year when we mentor new tributes.” Finnick explained.
Komoda tried to laugh. “Well, I just think that the two of you would get on rather well.”
“We get on fine.” You continued, feigning ignorance.
“The two of you would make a very handsome couple!” One of her friend’s chimed in, earning him nods of approval from the quickly forming group of spectators.
“Well, looks aren’t everything, are they?” You tried, and a few of the more…altered individuals seemed rather perplexed at the thought. “The two of us might not have anything in common.”
“That’s very true.” Finnick agreed. “Let’s see; how do you feel about the beach?”
“Too much sand; I’m shaking it out of everything I own for far too long afterwards. What’s your favourite pastime?”
“Swimming.” He answered.
“I never learned how.” You continued with pursed lips. “Least favourite season?”
“Winter. What’s your favourite holiday?”
“Christmas.”
Finnick hummed in displeasure before continuing. “Favourite animal?”
“Cats. Yours?”
“Dogs.”
You hummed in displeasure. “How do you feel about white chocolate?”
“Love it.” He replied easily; you scrunched your nose at him before he carried on. “What’s a dealbreaker for you?”
“People who like white chocolate.”
He pressed his lips into a flat line and nodded his head in understanding. “Very fair.”
You looked back over at Komoda and her friends to see them all gaping at the two of you.
“Sorry to disappoint, folks.” Finnick apologized with a shrug of his shoulder. “It’s apparently just not meant to be.”
“But…” Komoda started, looking rather crestfallen. “I…I was so sure!”
“You’re not the first to try to set us up.” You placated, placing a gentle hand over the scale-like jewels on the shoulder of her gown. “You probably won’t be the last, either.”
“Maybe the 29th time will be the charm, hm?” Finnick offered you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes at him.
“Don’t hold your breath, Odair.”
“I can hold my breath for a very long time, sweetheart; I’m a world class swimmer, afterall.”
“Oh, you’re something alright.” You laughed as you turned to walk away, deciding then to begin your rounds of goodbyes before heading back to your suite.
You held the towel to your face for a few seconds, just taking a moment to breathe and enjoy the quiet, warmth, and serenity of your post-party ritual.
You were just about to pull the towel away when you felt gentle hands slide around your waist before you were being embraced between two strong arms.
“Long night?” He murmured into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it.
You hummed in agreement and pulled the towel away from your face, smiling at Finnick in the reflection of the mirror.
“It always is in the Capitol.” You replied.
He offered you a knowing smile before pressing another kiss to your shoulder.
“Missed you.” He said before reaching around you to grab some makeup wipes to begin removing the work his own stylists put into his appearance tonight. “Anything interesting happen?”
You hummed noncommittally as you smoothed cream over your skin. “Not really. Someone tried setting me up with this guy again.”
“Really?” Finnick asked, feigning intrigue. “Was it a match made in heaven?”
You made a so-so sound. “He was pretty cute,” you allowed, “but I don’t know if it would work.”
“No?”
“No. I mean, for one, he didn’t start drooling the second he saw me. Huge red flag I think.”
With that, Finnick theatrically slammed his hand down on the countertop and levelled you with a disbelieving look. “You mean to tell me that he didn’t immediately fall to his knees in worship?”
“No!”
Finnick shook his head; simply aghast. “You can do so much better, honey.”
Your smile turned soft as you watched him lather some of his face wash between his hands before bringing them to his face. “I think so too.”
By the time he was done with washing his face, you were sitting on the counter with Finnick standing between your legs as you massaged some moisturizer into his skin.
“They don’t know what you deserve anyway.” Finnick states suddenly.
Your brows scrunched in confusion. “Who doesn’t?”
“The Capitol people; they don’t know what kind of partner you deserve.”
You stayed quiet as you finished working the product into his skin, pressing a kiss to his lips to alert him to the fact that you were finished. You felt rather shy when he opened his eyes and you found yourself pinned beneath his sea green gaze.
“They’d be sorely mistaken if they thought Capitol Darling Finnick Odair was all you deserved.”
You smiled softly at him before pressing another softer, lingering kiss to his lips.
“I’m rather fond of this Finnick Odair.”
You relished in the slight pink dusting of his cheeks as his smile grew wider before he pulled you in, cradling you to his chest.
You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.
It would take your stylists three hours to prep you for the party. It would take you forty minutes to disassemble yourself after the party. The outfits and jewelry you wore would cost more than most District families saw in years.
And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.
The best part was that no one knew you and Finnick Odair have actually been dating behind closed doors for four years now.
#the hunger games#thg fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#thg#finnick odair#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair fic#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair blurb#finnick odair ficlet#finnick odair drabble#finnick odair imagine#ellecdc fics
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Gladiator Headcanons! (1/?)
How the Characters would act if you: Had A Cold!
Character x GN! Reader
Warnings: s3x implied
Characters Featured: Maximus, Lucilla, Commodus, Acacius, Caracalla, Geta, Lucius, Macrinus (edited: I never actually wrote anything for him but I did now)
A/N: First Tumblr post in a while, and I'm actually writing things too! This is the first time I've written elaborate headcanons, so please forgive if they seem a little off. I apologize for any historical/character innacuracies, and I hope to get better!! xoxo -mqrrstarr
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Maximus would immediately notice something is off. You kept complaining about a headache that didn’t seem to stop, and your temperature was high.
“Darling, I don’t think you should fight today…”
You could only cough in response, and the guards wouldn’t let you rest. As the day’s challenge was fighting in pairs, he rapidly volunteered to fight with you. Maximus protected you from the other gladiators, and killed them as fast as you could sneeze. By the end of the day, Maximus gave you his blanket and other amenities, ushering you to a more comfier cell. (He had placed a bet with another gladiator.)
“There darling, rest up nice and easy.”
I can also see Maximus getting the other gladiators to create a soup/stew sort of mixture. Not good. But he’s very fatherly, if you can get that?
- - - - - - - -
Lucilla knows everything. After taking care of Lucius as a child, she can rapidly tell when you’re not feeling well.
“Sweetie? Do you feel alright?”
She’d do the mom thing, put her hand on your forehead and try to figure out what was wrong with you. Your head was practically boiling, so she’d get her servants to make tea, lay you in her triclinium and keep you company.
“The servants will prove useful sweetie. You’re a strong warrior, so keep hanging on.”
She’d hum a lullaby, read poetry (the same she’d read to Lucius) and tell stories until you fell asleep.
- - - - - - - -
Commodus was rarely comforted growing up, so he knew how to handle sickness easily. Growing up semi-independent, he knew homemade tricks and tips to feel better.
“Y/N, are you not feeling well? Just get some herbs and drink an elixir. You’ll be fine.”
He realizes that he sounds a bit harsh, and reminds himself that he never wants to treat you how he was treated; with solitude and no gratitude. Commodus gets you all the snacks and food you want, and even hugs you for as long as you want.
When you question him after it’s been a whole afternoon of him on your chest, he simply says,
“Y/N, do not question the Emperor. I wish to lay with you, and I do not fear sickness. The Gods can protect one of their own.”
He keeps hugging you and falls asleep, and the next day you’re both coughing and sneezing.
- - - - - - - -
Acacius has been through so many battles and massacres, yet he’s never truly encountered a cold. The soldiers that cough, are usually dead. Coughing up their own blood, that is. He really doesn’t know how to help you properly, but he’ll try his best.
“Angel, can you tell me what’s wrong? I’m not really sure what to do. Should I get a doctor? Are you feeling a certain way?”
and as he says this, Acacius would use his hands to caress yours, and treat you even more like a princess/prince. He’d lay you in his own bed, and give you massages until you’d feel better. He’d also do a little more if you’d want. Iykyk. You’d fall asleep quickly, and you’d wake up to Acacius either next to you, or on a chair by the bedside and he’d be all sprawled out. His soldier senses would wake him up though.
“Angel? Angel? You’re all right now, that’s wonderful. My lovely Venus, you’re all healed.”
And his words, he would seal with a forehead kiss. GOD HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEART I NEED PEDRO PASCAL
- - - - - - - -
Caracalla had his own sickness, the one of syphilis. His wild mentality usually was what kept him going, and the love of ruling over Rome. Yet the Emperor cared for his significant other, and refused to let anyone else; even his closest servants touch you.
“My Wife/Husband, the most holiest of them all, I shall take care of you. Please tell me what your most vivid desires are? Allow me to assist you.”
He’s such a sweetheart, and he’d definitely tell you so many stories of him and Geta in their childhood, Roman mythology, and anything to keep you entertained. As he also has mommy and daddy issues, he also do a Commodus-esque move and lay on your chest and probably fall asleep first haha. When the both of you awake, he'd hear your stomach rumble.
“You’re hungry? Well then I shall feed you. Anything for you my love.”
He’d keep you filled with food and him to help your weak state. (CARACALLA COME HOME THE KIDS AND I MISS YOU)
- - - - - - - -
Geta was always stressed. Getting much more to do as Emperor, as Caracalla had his own “duties” to fulfill. When you started coughing and sneezing as you strolled in the palace garden, he’d send the servants away to prepare a room where you could quarantine. As much as he loved you, he’d refuse to get sick. (Rome needs a healthy representation.) So you’d be alone the first few days with the occasional knock on the door. When you seemed less sick than before, he’d spend all the time with you.
“My love? I’m here for you. The Gods have finally allotted time for our get together. It will be only the finest in Rome for the night; us.”
He’d definitely turn the situation into a fun (fucking) night and then the days after that would be a cycle of laying together, fine dining meals, and caressing. (your bodies, of course.) When he has to return to his Emperor duties, he’ll leave with a long romantic and passionate kiss, one that made your entire body warm.
“Won’t be long. I’ll be back in the night.”
(if you couldn't tell i love the idea of geta as needy all the time)
- - - - - - - -
Lucius knew what it was like to feel sick and tired constantly, so he took care of you. Like a shepherd tending to his favorite sheep. Both of you grand warriors and gladiators, so there was no time to feel bad. He reassured you he could fight without you, and vowed to come back every time.
“Dearest, I promise to return safely. I couldn’t leave my soul with you, it has to be me truly here always. I vow on our love to fight for freedom and the peace of Rome. I will also fight for you.”
You trusted Lucius, (WHO WOULDN’T WITH THOSE BLUE EYES) and he is a man of his word. Day after day, you slowly healed and was able to rejoin Lucius and the others again.
“See? I knew you’d heal. The Gods give power to those who are great. And you are great.”
You fought as usual, but he’d still protect you a little more to ensure you were actually okay.
- - - - - - - -
Macrinus would see you and get together some gladiators in your presence, hoping they would entertain you and help you ignore the pain.
“Sickness is nothing but temporary Y/N. You can and have the power to move on.”
You’d take his advice and eventually keep doing your work as his assistant, and he’d make sure you were well taken care of.
“Y/N? A true warrior does not dawdle. Good job keeping up with your tasks.”
Surprisingly, you were able to keep up with work and healed faster than expected. (THERE I WROTE FOR MACRINUS)
#gladiator 2#gladiator ii#pedro pascal#paul mescal#fred hechinger#joseph quinn#connie nielsen#denzel washington#macrinus#emperor caracalla#caracalla x reader#emperor geta#geta x reader#marcus acacius#general acacius#acacius x reader#lucilla#lucilla x reader#lucius verus#gladiator x reader#lucius x reader#gladiator movie#headcanons#maximus decimus meridius#maximus x reader
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Training for the Ballet Potter?🩰
summary: James Potter x Reader, James takes a ballet class and crushes on the teacher (you)
cw: sexist remarks? it is kind of just gender stereotypes of ballet I guess, i didn't proof read this so just pretend it's good for me
word count: 2.6K
James thought that he might actually quit. This was ridiculous in every sense of the word. It was humiliating and a cruel punishment for sure.
His quidditch coach had the brilliant idea of signing the whole team up for ballet classes. Ballet, as in, turns and tiptoes and tights. This was emasculating to him, so beneath his training and dedication to the sport he should be practicing.
His coach announced the classes on the last day of spring training. He stated that they were to attend every class until their season starts, no exceptions. He went on and on about how it would benefit the team to become more agile and graceful. But James didn’t understand the logic at all, he needed to be quick, strong, sturdy. Not exactly what ballerinas are known for.
His coach emphasized the fact that these lessons were mandatory by stating that those who fail to attend would be cut from the team. He was not joking. A few of his teammates tried to protest, but his coach made the ultimatum. He said that if they wanted to be professionals and play on this prestigious team, they would learn grace and elegance in their training.
James loved and valued his position on the team, so he wasn't so fast to say no to these lessons. He was also trying to become captain of the team this year, and pretending to be excited and grateful for these lessons seemed like a way to earn him some brownie points.
So he pretended to the best of his abilities, he got the team together to encourage or change their attitudes, saying that it would be a great experience for the summer and that it was only three months of these lessons. Well, two lessons every week for three months, but that still wasn’t too bad.
When the coach overheard some of the team still complaining about ballet, he made them run and condition until half of them were throwing up. He was not here to play about these lessons.
“Got your leotard?” Sirius teased James from the couch. He had his head resting in Remus’s lap.
James had lived with his two best friends since the end of school and he couldn’t be happier. Well, he could do with a little less of the making out and the groping he would catch every now and then, but he couldn’t blame them both, they were happy and in love. He just… didn’t need to see it all the time. And now, he didn’t need to be teased to add insult to injury.
“No.” James replied, rolling his eyes. He grabbed his red workout bag with his team’s logo from the opposite couch that his friends were sitting on and slung it over his shoulder.
“I think it’ll be good for you, Prongs,” Remus chimed in, “You could learn a thing or two about grace.”
James again rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood, he was sore from yesterday’s practice, and was now about to prance around like an idiot for an hour.
“I just need to get through this,” James said. “I want to look good when my coach is choosing captains this season.”
“Anything for that position, eh, Prongsie?” Sirius chuckled from Remus’s lap. “Look on the bright side though, you’ll be surrounded by fit girls in tight clothes and tiny skirts.”
Remus smacked the top of his head for the comment, earning an ‘ouch’ and small apology. Remus rolled his eyes this time, annoyed by his lover’s crude statement.
James supposed that there was that to look forward to, he would never say it out loud like Sirius, but he was… intrigued by the idea. His male teammates were all put into the Monday/Wednesday classes with a strict teacher apparently. He was selected for the Tuesday/Thursday classes, which he found out were much smaller and taught by a new, younger teacher. A few of his teammates made sure to let him know how lucky he in fact was, the Monday/Wednesday teacher sounded like a hard-ass and a mean old witch.
Another bright side of the classes was that he would be with Marlene, one of his best friends on the team. If he had to endure this torture, he was glad to do it with her at least. It was actually Marlene who was picking him up so they could go to the lesson together. She should be here in about… now.
James bid farewell to his friends and raced out the door before any of the last minute teasing could make it to his ears, and rushed out to where Marlene was waiting in her car for him.
“Hey,” he greeted her, sliding into the passenger seat of her car which felt much too tiny for him to squeeze into.
“Ready for the ballet Potter?” she giggled, wiggling her brows as she put the car in drive. James found it quite humorous, the two of them, going to their first ballet lesson. The two of them who look like they should keep far away from anything to do with ballet. James, who was a 6’1 burly man with all the elegance of a rhino and knocked into possibly every piece of furniture he owned on a daily basis, and Marlene, with chipped black nails and a self-cut mullet who looks like she would eat the posh little ballerinas for lunch.
Sooner than he would have liked, they reached the dance studio. Marlene parked and they both just sat there for a moment breathing in deep. He turned to her and saw the look that he himself was wearing. One of regret and annoyance.
“Come on Marls, it's an hour and then we’re done.’’ James reminded her.
She groaned but opened her door and slipped out.
They both made their way to the door of the building. He opened it and allowed Marlene to walk through first, pretending that it was just a courteous, gentlemanly thing to do, but in all reality, he was just holding onto any time he could have left not doing ballet.
He stepped into the building and into a crowded area with chairs and fake plants, a waiting room for the parents coming to pick up their little ballerinas from lessons. The waiting room was littered with moms scrolling on their phones and looking at their watches. Great.
James and Marlene had to wait for the teacher to come get them and escort them into the correct studio. Marlene plopped herself in a chair and motioned for James to do the same, but he just stood and lingered around the area.
James heard a door open and the chatter and giggles of many children. He heard many “Thank you miss Y/N”s and “Bye miss Y/N”s followed by a flood of little girls all dressed in colorful leotards and skirts filling the waiting room. The children all ran up to their respective mothers and told them about their lesson and how nice their new teacher was and that they all got stickers and how fun everything was. Some of the little girls eyed James and Marlene up and down, Marlene just stared back until the girls got scared and ran over to their adult.
As soon as the chaos broke into the little waiting room, it left. The last little girl put on her pink sparkly light up shoes and bounded out the door with her parent. This reassured everything that James had already felt; that this was useless, meant for little girls. Definitely not quidditch players, definitely not James.
He heard the door open again and turned to see a small woman, about his age, walk out with a clipboard. Her hair was pulled up into a bun. She was clad in a pink leotard and matching pink skirt, light pink tights, and pink ballet shoes. She was pretty, not in a typical perfect ballerina way, but in an entirely different way. James was definitely not expecting someone like her to be in a studio like this, let alone to be teaching.
Her eyes snapped up from what she was reading on her clipboard and instantly lit up.
“Oh hello!” she squeaked. “Are you two here for the 4:00 class?”
“Uh, yeah.” James replied.
“Perfect! You’re right on time. I’m Y/N, by the way, I’ll be your instructor. You can follow me right in here to studio B.” she said, motioning them to follow her down the hall to the studio. Marlene stood and the both followed. “And here we are,” She said, turning on the light switch, allowing for a better view of the studio.
It was a very small room with light hardwood floors, mirrors lining the back wall. There were mats stacked up in the corner and two parallel bars mounted on the two walls without mirrors.
“You two can go ahead and set your stuff on the wall with the mirrors and then we can get started with stretching.” she announced chipper.
“Aren’t we going to wait for the rest of the class to show up?” Marlene asked from beside James.
“Oh no, you two are the whole class.” She smiled. “You can think of it more like a private lesson, more one on one.”
Private ballet lessons… Sirius was going to have a field day. He looked over at Marlene who just shrugged and made her way to the mirror wall to set her stuff down. James followed.
“It’s just us?” James whisper yelled to Marlene, trying not to let the instructor hear.
“Is that a problem?” Marlene asked back. “She’s hot.”
James just huffed and pulled off his jacket, tossing it in his bag.
“Look Potter, think of it this way,” She tried to reason with him, “Now there’s less people to look like an idiot in front of. All of the embarrassing moves will stay just between us three.” She smiled and James nodded his head, feeling like maybe it was a blessing to be in such a small class. “But… I can’t promise I won't make fun of you or use it against you.” She joked.
“Alright, are you both ready?” Y/N asked sweetly. They both nodded and made their way to the center of the room where she was waiting for them. “Alright first things first, welcome to ballet! My name is Y/N, you don't have to call me Miss or anything like the little ones do, just Y/N is fine” She said, her eyes glowing.
Marlene was right, she was hot. But James wouldn’t be that forward about it, she was incredibly beautiful. If James could do with a touch of grace, she was bathed in it, dripping in it. She radiated confidence and elegance. James didn’t know what to do with his hands all of a sudden.
“I understand that your coach has signed you both up?” She asked. Marlene nodded in confirmation. “Ok, that is perfectly fine, we teach a lot of different athletes here at this studio. But in all honesty, I am a bit new to all of this,” She blushed, looking to the floor, “I mostly work with beginner classes and children so, bear with me.”
She looked back at them and smiled. “Now, usually we require ballet shoes, but I won't require them for you two, socks or barefoot will be just fine.” she explained. “It is also better if you could wear things that are a little bit tighter. You don’t have to wear leos, but I need to be able to see the lines of your bodies better, so leggings, shorts, tank tops, those are all great!”
She was so cheery. Not only was she elegant and grateful, but kind and bubbly. James felt this warmth within the pit of his stomach now.
“Lastly, I want you two to have fun. I know that this is very different for you but, I promise I will make it as fun and educational for you so that you benefit the most that you can from this experience.” She finished, eyes sparking again.
“Alright with all that being said, let’s start our warm up!” she said.
Y/N led them through a series of stretches, most just like the ones they did at quidditch practice, others that were uncomfortable and pulled on his tight muscles. She assured them that with time, those stretches would get easier.
After, she led them to the bars mounted on one of the walls. She taught them the different positions of ballet; first, second, third, etc.. She taught them plies and releve, coupe and passe, and other French words he didn’t understand and would need to be repeated to him most likely all summer.
“Good Marlene.” James heard Y/N critique from where she was situated behind him. For all the gripe that she gave, Marlene was actually pretty decent at all this.
All of a sudden James felt hands on his abdomen and back, straightening his back into the correct posture. He was startled but continued on.
“There you go,” Y/N chuckled. “And..” she began but cut herself off by setting her hands atop his broad shoulders, pushing down on them. “You gotta relax, your shoulders are too tense. We don’t want them up by our ears,” She said, demonstrating to him by pulling her own shoulders up. “We want an elongated line from our neck and down our spine.” She explained, relaxing her shoulders and looking perfect.
Next Y/N ran them through some basic turns and steps and they practiced by repeating them across the floor. James couldn’t believe this but, he was actually getting a pretty good workout. He was using muscles he didn’t even know he had, and he knew that if he dared mention that he was sore from ballet in front of Remus and Sirius, they would never let him live it down.
Time actually flew, and class was over before he knew.
“Great job today.” She said to them both, smiling as James caught her eye.
“I heard you give out stickers.” Marlene mentioned, mischief laced in her voice, making Y/N giggle. James loved the sound, decided that he wanted to do anything, everything in his power to hear that again. Hear it forever if he can.
She walked over to where her clipboard lay on the other side of the room, picked it up, then returned to where James and Marlene were now packing up. She peeled off a smiley face that said ‘awesome’ and placed it on Marlene’s shirt. Marlene smiled and started out the door.
Y/N peeled another off, a star that said ‘you did great’ and placed it on James’s shirt. She pressed it into the fabric, making sure it stuck. James felt the warmth of her fingers radiate through his shirt and into his skin.
He smiled at her and made his way after Marlene. He turned back to say “See you Thursday!”
She smiled back, waving goodbye to him and repeating that she would see them on Thursday.
Exiting the studio and climbing back into Marlene’s car, James couldn’t get rid of the goofy smile that etched itself into his face. Marlene looked at him and shook her head. “Don’t make it too obvious, Twinkletoes.” She mocked him with a new and reactive nickname.
“What are you talking about?” James asked, pulling his seatbelt on.
“Your little crush.” Marlene said plainly.
James wasn't going to deny it, so what if he had a little crush on the cute ballet teacher? She was gorgeous and so warm. He liked to see the passion in her eyes when she was explaining ballet to them.
He couldn’t believe it and he would probably never say it out loud but he was excited for his ballet lesson on Thursday.
i wrote this cause I miss ballet and love the athlete x ballerina trope. also ballerinas are in fact athletes, dance is a sport ❤️🎀🩰 also please let me know if you would like to be added to any tag lists
taglist 🍓: @navs-bhat
#marauders#marauders era#marauders au#james potter#marauders headcanon#marauders fanfiction#james potter x reader#the marauders#sirius black#remus lupin#james x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fanfiction#james potter fluff#james potter x self insert#prongs#james x you#james x y/n#james x self insert#my favorite trope#james fleamont potter#moony x padfoot#wolfstar#background wolfstar#james potter headcanon#james potter smut#james potter angst#marlene mckinnon
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this thing (the christmussy) appears and you slide down it
mazel tov you're now in an alternate universe.
you go on facebook and you see a post in the group for an app you have. every month there's a new theme announcement, and you see march has just been announced. it's cherry blossom themed; a cherry blossom dress for your avatar, a backdrop of cherry blossom trees for your virtual room. you think it's beautiful and really well-done.
you glance down and see the comments. there are many people upset that the theme isn't purim, with others reassuring them they can still get purim items in the shop and explaining that the app already did purim for the march event two years ago and doesn't want to repeat. but people are still upset, because they'd been saving up their in-game currency to buy purim items. this doesn't totally make sense because the event items don't cost any currency. but it's clear everyone expected a purim event, and that they feel a cherry blossom event would have been more appropriate for april because flowering trees are more of a pesach thing. a couple commenters mention that they don't celebrate purim and so they really appreciate that the team chose an inclusive theme, and that they think the cherry blossom theme is beautiful.
one thread goes something like this:
chana: ah, i was hoping for something more silly and purim-y
maryam: sorry, but not everyone celebrates purim. besides there are actually five different holidays celebrated in march, including purim. even then, not everyone celebrates those holidays. it's not all about one group of people. everyone needs to feel included.
chana: i'm fully aware, thanks. the silly purim is not the same as the religious purim, anyway. hamentashen are not in the torah. i know muslims who celebrate the commercial purim. i'm a jew who has done lots of interfaith work, by the way.
you notice it seems like several of maryam's responses aren't showing up: facebook glitch or were they deleted? or maybe chana is just so worked up she's commenting many times?
chana: in short i was asking for a springtime theme not a full-on megillah reading. you could have sought to understand before jumping to that conclusion. peace.
chana continues in this vein, even accusing maryam of "attacking her," and also makes a weird dig about maryam's islam.
golda: try not to let this person upset you. you should be allowed to make such a statement without being lectured on religion -- this is not the place for that, or at least it shouldn't be. people are here to encourage and support each other. i also wish it was a silly purim theme. hope you have a great day :)
elkie: i agree. i would love to get a grogger.
rachel: admin! this is stressful.
tamar, the admin, jumps in. she doesn't mention chana's weird comments about maryam's islam, but merely asks for the conversation to stop. it doesn't.
ari: there is a grogger from one of the previous march events! it'll be in the shop all month. my family celebrated purim and mardi gras, so i have an outfit with a grogger and mardi gras beads!
chana: rachel, i'm so sorry.
chana: tamar, thank you and my apologies for my part in this.
zelda: chana, you can still buy jewish purim/wiccan ostara/mardi gras/etc type items in the store :) even a pineapple costume! lmao! your outfit can be as silly as you'd like it to be :)
katie: hi chana! i hear you saying it's disappointing there isn't a silly purim theme, and it's frustrating that anyone would push back on that because it's not religious so there's no way anyone would feel left out. i do just want to gently mention, for a lot of folks who are from other faiths and cultures, silly purim also isn't something that we celebrate. if the app had gone that route, we would of course understand because that is what the majority wants and we respect it, but it's true we would still feel left out. the app isn't obligated to change anything for us, of course, but the fact that they did is very sweet (well -- i'm not sure if inclusion was the intent, but it was the result!)
chana: just checking you've seen this. *includes screenshot of tamar's admin comment*
chana: can i also clarify one final time that i mentioned nothing of religion, nothing about faith, nothing about megillah, esther, or anything. i was simply hoping for a silly theme with funny hats and a cotton candy machine. the first person to mention anything to do with religion was NOT me. my initial comment has been taken wildly out of context and i am deeply upset that this conversation is continuing despite admin asking for it to stop. i'm done.
chana: tamar, i really don't want to leave this group, but this is past unacceptable at this point.
you don't see what happens next because you decide it's time to log off. you close your computer and go outside and touch some grass. you're free.
It's Black Friday and you know what that means: It's Christmas discourse season!
There's a disconnect that comes up every year in these conversations, and I've never seen it illustrated as clearly as in the conversation below.
Context: This is a community group for an app that involves themes and items, and this year's December theme is winter-y but decidedly not Christmassy.
Some people were upset about that, which isn't unexpected, and then this conversation ensued:
What is.... what is going on here? Why is red so upset? Why are they struggling to understand that "cozy" Christmas is still not universal? Does it feel threatening to them?
I mean, maybe green had a bunch of comments and then deleted them or facebook was glitching, but I can't find anything wrong with their initial comment. Is red just annoyed because it's unkind to challenge someone who's just saying they're sad? I don't think that's the only thing though because red doesn't seem to understand either green's or blue's comments and it's a misunderstanding I see every single year.
Also, I don't understand what the issue was with blue, or why that also upset red that much. Is it just because blue ignored the mod's request to close the thread?
Like.... either there's something I'm not getting or there's something red's not getting. I suspect it's red, tbh, because they started talking about how they never mentioned anything about Jesus, the nativity, or religion -- but blue actually addressed that in their comment.
Outside the context of someone getting pushback on just saying they'd wished something different had happened, which I recognize feels shitty, are there ways people like blue and green can phrase things so that it clicks for people like red, or is it a lost cause?
And what am I missing about red's perspective?
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The thing about Act 1 of season 2 is that, while in context with the rest of s2 it was bad, they actually did set up a good story and continued season 1 pretty amazingly.
There were still some problems but genuinely most of those problems stem from the rest of the Episodes not delivering and not on the first 3 setting stuff up.
Act 1 giving us the tree being sick? Really good idea, perfect set up even the connection between the hextech and it being sick? Nice as fuck. It's what they did with it (nothing) and how it didn't matter (at all) that destroys Act 1.
Caitlyn's set up was absolutely not bad, and a lot of people were praising it. It made sense for her character and it also didn't seem like they thought she was right. Not with all the other episodes after Act 1, though. Contrary to populer believe I like morally not so good (evil) characters if they make sense. Caitlyns narrative was promising to be interesting they just didn't do anything with it and acted like what she did in Act 1 was fine and excusable and alright. It wasn't. Had they actually done something with what they set up with her, well I wouldn't be standing here now.
They also promised this season being a Vi focused season and while I would say that Act 1 did actually give us a lot of Vi, in context with the other Acts... no. In hindsight there was no need to make her an Enforcer. "But the lore-" I'm gonna stop you right there, they also completely changed Viktors lore, and even Jinx' lore. So?
CaitVi was also something that, in Act 1, I was way more ready to get behind. I was a CaitVi shipper in season 1, I did like their dynamic and wanted it explored. I liked their kiss. I did not like what they did after that. Not Caitlyn hitting Vi and then getting to hit her again and never apologizing. I am a lesbian and here I am telling you: Everything that happened with them was weird.
Act 1 also gave us this genuine good found family between Isha, Sevika and Jinx. It was so moving and well done even in such short of a time (there is still stuff to criticize about it but the consensus is that it is awesome so yk I can overlook certain stuff). And then they turned around and wrote Sevika completely out of the story and killed the plot device that was Isha. When Isha should have mattered.
I didn't even originally dislike how many new characters they introduced because season 1 once mastered characters like this. Maddie seemed promising, until she wasn't. Loris seemed interesting and well thought out until he wasn't. Lest was such a good addition until she was just written out of the show completely. Don't even get me started on Steb.
Ambessas ploy in Act 1 was also something that I genuinely liked. Even Mel figuring out a mystery was good. Until they decided "well that doesn't matter anymore".
In Act 1 I did actually like the subtleties. I liked how Caitlyn saw the Violets and how, in episode 3 of s2 she saw one through her rifles lense (I have no idea what that is called, sue me haha) floating over Jinx. Because it was a nice add on and nothing that would destroy your viewing experience if not noticed, and it wasn't on the nose.
While a lot of directions they took, I was already questioning (the Smeech stuff took up way too much time) I was ready to give that a pass because it didn't destroy anything, yet.
Up until episode 4, it all seemed well enough, and while the prison scene also made me question stuff (that god damn Enforcer pants joke oh my god I will never let that go what was that) it wasn't anything too bad, yet.
The reason Act 1 doesn't work now is because of Act 2 and Act 3. Had Act 1 stood alone or had Act 2 and Act 3 delivered on Act 1, we wouldn't have that much of a problem. As it is the further Acts destroy what Act 1 seemed to carefully build up.
In the end what seemed purposefully and artistically done in Act 1 now seems like something the writers actually believe.
#I did like things about season 2. I did.#arcane#arcane season 1#arcane season 2#character analysis#scene analysis#caitvi#caitlyn kiramman#vi#mel medarda#ambessa medarda#jayce talis#viktor#jinx#sevika#isha#found family#ekko#firelights#maddie#lest#loris arcane#steb#discussion#wlw#lesbian
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Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 40
LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST
< previous chapter
Word Count: 4,400ish
Summary: You and Logan struggle.
Warning(s): bars, drunk men, tears, heartbreak, seizures
Notes: Welp, this chapter was gonna be shorter and different, but y'all sent in some great ideas. I hope this chapter makes sense since I used the chapter I had already written and worked around it.
Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!
Logan was anxious as he pulled up to the diner the next day. He couldn’t see your car, which made his stomach tie up in knots. What if you actually walked away? He had kept telling you to, but then yesterday… he couldn’t lose you again. It might actually be the thing that killed him. Logan’s eyes scanned the diner as he entered, trying to find any sight of you.
“Excuse me,” Logan grumbled as he caught the attention of one of the other waitresses. “Is Y/N here?”
“Her shift starts in a few minutes,” the waitress responded. “Feel free to wait in a booth.”
“Thanks.”
Logan sat down at tapped the table as he looked out the window and waited for you. He felt some relief when he watched you pull up and enter the diner. You could feel Logan’s gaze on you, but you ignored it, quickly starting your shift. You didn’t go over there until Logan’s food was finished.
“Here,” you muttered, setting the food down. You kept your gaze down.
“Sweetheart,” Logan’s injured hand came up to your hand.
“I have to work, Logan. If you need something, we can talk after my shift.”
You turned away and went to help a rowdy truck driver at the counter. Logan kept his eyes on you, growing angrier by the second as the truck driver kept trying to put his hands on you.
“Hey, bitch,” the truck driver called, slapping your butt as you walked past.
Logan stood up and walked over, his whole world red. He grabbed the guy’s shirt and immediately punched him in the face.
“Logan!” You exclaimed, trying to pull him off the man. “Stop!”
Logan pulled the man closer to his face. “Don’t you ever disrespect a woman like that!” He then punched the driver again.
“Logan!” You went to grab his arm, but his elbow flew back into your face and hit your nose. Blood began gushing down you. You grabbed your nose to try to plug it.
“That’s enough!” Your manager shouted. She glared at Logan and the driver. “Get out!”
Logan looked back at you, stomach dropping at the sight of blood on you. When did you get hurt? He didn’t remember that at all. Logan let go of the driver, causing the man to fall to the ground.
“Out!” Your manager repeated. Logan left the diner before the manager turned to you. “You’re fired.”
“What?” You questioned. “But I—“
“Keep luring that man in. I can’t ban him; he’s too dangerous, but I can ban you. Go.”
You grabbed your things and went out to your car, where Logan was waiting.
“Y/N,” he whispered, hands stuffed into his pockets to hide his own blood and bruising.
“Go away,” you muttered. You got into your car, slamming the door before driving off.
~~~
Logan dropped off the bachelor party at the bar and sat there in the limo. He knew he lost it today and that you needed an apology. Getting out, he was going to get to your motel when he saw you stumble out of the bar, hanging off of a man. You were giggling and touching the man, making Logan see red again. Without another thought, Logan was storming over there. He ripped the man off of you before you could kiss.
“Hey!” The man exclaimed. “Watch it—“
“Run off,” Logan’s voice was gruff yet thick with anger. He lifted one of his fists and revealed his metal claws. The man scurried off.
“Are you going to sabotage all my jobs now?” You questioned, causing him to turn quickly toward you.
“What? What job?”
“Well, you got me fired from the diner, and I need money. The guy was going to pay well.”
Logan thought he was going to throw up. He had promised you a life away from this, yet here you were because of him. “There has to be another way.”
“What am I supposed to do? I need the money, and I don’t have a safe place… You won’t take me home—to your home… I have nothing.”
“But… you’re my wife,” Logan reached out to you, but you stepped away. “Just ask me, and I’ll help you.”
“I thought you said we weren’t even married, Logan. So, I’m not your wife…”
His heart was shattered. “I didn’t mean—“
“Just… let me walk away, Logan. That’s what you wanted, right?”
Logan felt frozen as you walked in the direction of your motel. He had caused this. It was all his fault. But how could he fix it without putting you in more danger?
~~~
The next morning, Logan woke up with a mission. He had to get to your motel. He had to convince you somehow to stay in town. He was stupid, stupid to think that pushing you away was protecting you. He would work more shifts or get another job just to keep you close. And to make sure that you were taken care of. Logan sped to the motel and rushed up to your door. Knocking on it, the door creaked open.
“Y/N?” He called, stepping inside. “Sweetheart?”
None of your belongings were there. It looked like you left in a rush. Logan ventured further into the room, checking for any sign of you. His eyes caught sight of the motel notepad on the desk, where your familiar handwriting sat. His hand trembled as he picked up the note. He moved it closer to his face and then away as he struggled to read it.
“Fuck,” he muttered, hating how his body was betraying him.
Eventually, he found a spot that he could read it, if he squinted real hard.
Logan—Got kicked out of the motel. Apparently, they don’t enjoy long-term guests like me. I wish things were different.
Logan didn’t even know he was crying until a tear fell on your note. The dog tags and ring that sat against his chest felt like they were burning into him. A part of him wished that they would. That they’d burn right through to his heart. Keeping the note in his hand, Logan turned around and left the motel room. His eyes searched for any sign of your car, but it wasn’t there. You had left, just as he had wanted. But then why did he feel like he could just lay down and die? Like his heart had been ripped from his chest? You were right. This wasn’t protection to either of you. This just made things worse. And it was too late to fix it.
With a heavy sigh, Logan got into his limo and headed back to the smelting plant. He couldn’t work today. Not with his mind too caught up in you and the promises that he failed to keep.
~~~
It was dark, stuffy, and extremely bumpy. But you didn’t care, especially once you realized that Logan kept extra suit jackets and white shirts in the limo’s trunk.
You knew that Logan would stop by; he was so predictable to you. That morning, you sold your stolen car and packed up your belongings. You waited patiently for Logan to show up at the motel and slipped into his trunk as he searched your room. If Logan wasn’t going to take you to where he was living, you’d just have to sneak there. Consequences be damned. You at least deserved a chance actually to say goodbye to Charles and to Logan.
Currently, you were in Logan’s trunk, wrapped up in one of his jackets, savoring the smell of him. It was something you missed. Just his woody, cigar, leathery scent. It was pure Logan.
You didn’t know how long you were in the car before Logan finally stopped and got out. As you waited, you began to grow nervous. What if you showing up like this was the last straw? What if he really didn’t want you?
“Don’t be silly, my dear,” Charles’ voice entered your mind. “Logan always wants you.”
“Charles?” You mentally responded.
“The coast is clear. I’m in the tank.”
You popped open the trunk and carefully slipped out. You shut it, leaving your belongings in there. Glancing around, you took in the abandoned smelting plant and the barely put-together tank next to it. There was a fence surrounding the place with a train track not too far from that. It was in the desert, the heat of the sun beating down on you. Nothing was around for miles.
Tugging the jacket around you tighter, you quietly made your way to the tank. As you came up to the door, your heart sank as you realized that it was locked from the outside, clearly keeping Charles in. You entered and looked around. Charles was sitting in a wheelchair near a hospital bed. There was a chair and a small table with some plants scattered about. A fan was working overtime, trying to cool the thick, hot air. Charles smiled upon seeing you.
“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted.
You smiled back, trying not to worry too much about how it felt like he had aged too much since you last saw him. But the same could probably be said for you. “Hello, Charles.”
“I have missed you.” He wheeled himself over and held out his hand.
You took it. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“Come. Sit.” Charles led you over to the chair. “I know that it’s been a hard year for you.”
“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you either.”
“Alzheimer’s… That’s what I have. Seems to be an okay day today. Well, besides being stuck in this shit hole.”
You laughed. It wasn’t very often that you heard Charles swear. “Yeah, the whole place seems… nice.”
“That’s far too kind of a word. But it is better now that you’re here.”
“I don’t know if I can stay.” You shook your head. “I don’t know if Logan wants me here.”
“I don’t care what he wants. I want you here.”
“Charles—“
“Besides, that old grump yearns for you.” He tapped his head. “I know. Well, when I’m not full of those awful meds that they keep giving you.”
“They? Who else is here?”
Just then, the tank door opened, and a man walked in. He was carrying a tray of food and meds. He was tall and thin, all of his skin covered for protection from the sun. You jumped slightly and froze, not expecting anyone else here since Logan had been so adamant that you couldn’t be here for your safety.
“What the— Who are you?” The man asked, closing the door and walking further in. He set the tray down on the table and pulled his goggles up onto his forehead, showing you that he was albino.
“Caliban, this is Y/N,” Charles introduced.
“You’re Y/N.”
“I am,” you responded. “Who are you?”
“Logan found me. Offered me food, shelter, and protection in exchange for helping with Charles.”
“Oh.” You hated how much it stung that Logan would promise someone else that.
“Does he know you’re here?”
“No. I snuck over in the trunk of his limo. Please don’t tell him I’m here. I would like to do that.”
“Of course.”
“Y/N can help me with my meds today, Caliban,” Charles said. “You can go.”
Caliban nodded, stealing one last look at you before sliding his goggles back over his eyes and heading out. You walked over to the tray and brought it over to Charles, resting it across his lap.
“Now, Y/N,” Charles took a bite of his food, “tell me how it felt to beat Logan will some fire.”
~~~
Logan tipped the bottle of alcohol up, the liquid burning down his throat. Due to his dwindling healing abilities, Logan had started to feel the effects of alcohol more than he ever had before. But it did nothing to make him forget about you. Your smokey scent. The way your skin felt under his rough, calloused hands. The warmth that radiated off of you. Your eyes and your smile.
He set the bottle down on the table as Caliban came back into the smelting plant. Logan’s thick brows furrowed as he watched Caliban unwrap his skin.
“Did you make sure he swallowed?” Logan questioned, thinking that Caliban hadn’t been in the tank long enough.
“He swallowed,” Caliban replied.
Logan scoffed. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Well, it might be because you’re tired.”
Logan groaned as he stood up. “I shouldn’t have to do everything around here.”
“Don’t go out there.”
“Why not?”
“He’s, uh, lucid.”
“And?” Caliban looked away. “I’m going out there. Good thing the sun will prevent you from stopping me.”
Logan marched out of the plant, slamming the door as he headed to the tank. As soon as he opened the door, he froze. You were sitting with Charles.
“Logan!” You exclaimed, surprised to see him already.
“How the hell did you get here?” He grumbled, marching closer. “You disappeared. Everything was gone.”
“I sold the car this morning and snuck into your trunk when you stopped by the hotel.”
“Don’t be mad at her, Logan,” Charles scolded.
“I ain’t mad,” he murmured. “You need to go.”
“No,” you weren’t going to let him push you away this time. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you from the chair with his uninjured one. “You can’t be here. Especially not in here.” He began leading you to the door.
“Let go of her, Logan,” ordered Charles.
“It’s okay, Charles,” you replied. “I can handle this.” You shut the door behind you as Logan pulled you outside.
“Get in the car,” Logan demanded.
“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do! You also don’t get to ask me to stay and then not let me be here.”
“It’s too dangerous! Charles is—He is lucid today, but it’s not always like this, and he can control the seizures and the psychic attacks. You could die, just like the others.”
“I’d rather die in your arms than die homeless on the streets.”
Logan let go of your hand and stepped back. His hand ran down his face in frustration—at himself and the situation. He would rather that, too. That he knew your fate than you die in some alley. But he didn’t want you to have to watch him and Charles decline. Logan knew he couldn’t have it both ways.
You could see the war raging in his mind. You stepped closer and gently took his face in your hands. “I also don’t want you to die alone… I know that something is wrong… I’m staying. We can do this your way, but I’m staying.”
“Fine. But you follow my rules.”
~~~
Logan’s rules were stupid in your eyes, but you were willing to follow them, at least for a little while. The biggest rule Logan had was that you were not allowed to go near Charles unless Logan was home. You thought it was ridiculous and told him as such, but he was still insistent anyway. However, perhaps the biggest thing Logan insisted on was that you two had separate bedrooms.
“It’s for your own good,” Logan told you.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Or it’s for your own good. You just don’t want me to figure out what’s wrong with you. So you’re still running and hiding.”
Logan hated how well you knew him. That first night you spent there, neither of you got any sleep. You couldn’t help but think about crawling in bed with Logan, though both of you were stuck with uncomfortable twin beds. There was a time when that wouldn’t have mattered. When you two were stuck with a small sleeping situation, Logan would pull you on top of him, holding you there all night. That’s where you wanted to be. In his arms.
Logan was itching to go to you. To hold you and beg for forgiveness for everything he had done to hurt you. But he couldn’t let himself. Logan needed to keep you at a distance still. He believed it would make it easier when he died from the poison in his body. Though he was sure that you could tell he was already dying.
You, Logan, Charles, and Caliban quickly fell into a routine. Caliban would sleep in the tank every night with Charles. You would make breakfast for the bunch and switch Caliban out so that he could eat and get some more rest. You would stay with Charles, making sure he ate and took his meds until Logan left for work. Logan would always escort you from the tank into the smelting plant before leaving. You took it upon yourself to clean up the smelting plant, trying your best to make it more homey while Caliban took care of Charles. You also took care of lunch and dinners.
Logan would often work late. You made sure that Charles and Caliban ate and went to bed while you waited up for Logan. You had a few books in your belongings, so you would wait on the dingy couch with a book until Logan came home. You would always watch him carefully as he entered and hung up his jacket, trying to hide his pained groans. Logan would hobble over to the table, grabbing the alcohol on his way before you warmed up the food. The two of you would eat in silence.
“Goodnight, Logan,” you would say softly every night after cleaning up.
“Night, sweetheart,” he would mumble as you walked away.
This routine went on for months, barely ever changing. Logan had noticed that Caliban and Charles were doing better with you around. It helped that they had another person to help ease the burdens and talk to. Charles hadn’t had a seizure since before you arrived, with all of you not taking that for granted.
Logan began to realize that you were doing so much to take care of the three of them, but no one was really taking care of you. You deserved more than that.
The first gift he showed up with was a new book. It appeared outside your door one of the rare nights when you had gone to bed before Logan got home.
The next gifts were weeks later and spread out. Logan felt bad that you were stuck in an uncomfortable bed with a flimsy sheet. He knew that your mutation kept you warm, but you still deserved to be comfortable. Each of the gifts was already on your bed when Logan left for work. The first one was new sheets, already fitted against your bed. The next one was a blanket, and then there were new pillows with a whole new mattress as the last one.
You couldn’t understand how Logan was affording these items. You knew that money was tight and felt guilty that he was spending so much on you. The only way you could think to repay him was through your grocery list and the food you made. You knew what meals Logan liked and had them on a constant rotation for him.
Charles and Caliban watched the quiet gifting with much annoyance. They both believed that you should just talk it out.
“Logan is not working today,” Caliban said. “You should talk to him.”
“He’s not the talking type,” you responded, finishing up getting breakfast ready. “Besides… I don’t know if it could help anything now.”
“You never know until you try.”
You ignored the comment as you picked up the tray. “I’ll be out with Charles.”
Caliban sighed as you left, and Logan came down the stairs. Logan grabbed the plate that you had already prepared for him, along with the cup of coffee, and sat at the table.
“She’ll be glad to have you home today,” Caliban commented.
“Sure,” Logan scoffed.
“She misses you.”
“And you would know?”
“I often find her crying as she works.”
That immediately caught Logan’s attention. “What?”
But before Caliban could respond, a high-pitched mental sound rang through their minds. Caliban froze while Logan groaned in pain. Moving as fast as Charles’ seizure would allow, Logan grabbed the medication and fought to get into the tank. He needed to stop Charles and get to you. When he opened the door of the tank, Charles was in bed, seizing, while you had collapsed to the ground. Logan ground his teeth and pushed harder.
Far too long for his liking, Logan reached Charles’ bedside and injected the meds into him. The seizure stopped, and Logan collapsed to his knees with a grunt. He immediately crawled over to you, only to find you bleeding from your nose and ears. It was his worst nightmare come true again. Caliban stumbled into the tank, covered, as Logan swept you into his arms. He stood up with you, not caring how much pain he was in himself.
“Take care of him,” he mumbled as he carried you out of the tank.
Every part of his body and soul ached as he carried you up to your room and tucked you in there. You were still breathing, giving him hope. But the last time you had experienced one of Charles’ seizures, you had been in a coma for months. Logan didn’t know if he would survive that again.
With gentle care, Logan cleaned off your face once you stopped bleeding. He sat in a chair beside your bed, leaning forward with his head down and hands clasped together. You were out for the rest of the day before you finally showed signs of waking up. You moaned as you moved to stretch a little and opened your eyes. Looking over, you saw Logan sitting there, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were red and he wasn’t even bothering to hide the heartbreak.
“You can’t be here,” he whispered.
“Logan—“
“No! You can’t be here. What I was trying to prevent from happening almost happened! You could have died!” He stood up, clenching his fists together, almost like he wished he could physically fight this battle. “I— I can’t— I love you too damn much to lose you like this! I just want you to be alive and safe. And that’s not possible here with Charles… here with me.”
“I have nowhere to go.”
“I know! And it’s all my fucking fault! I broke my promise, and now you’re struggling, and it’s all my fault. I hate myself for putting you in those situations! But I— I can’t have you here and watch Charles kill you like he did all the others…”
“James,” you reached out for his hand, relieved when he let you take it. You could see some of the tension leave his shoulders as you squeezed his hand.
“I can’t live without you, sweetheart.” He plopped back into the chair, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this… to be the man I need to be for you and make the right decision.” His grip on your hand tightened. “I need you like I need air to breathe.”
“Then don’t run. Don’t push me away.”
“It’s not safe here… Charles could have killed you today.”
“But he didn’t. And Caliban told me that he’s been more lucid and less prone to seizures. Telling me to leave would make it worse… And then what will happen to you? Who would take care of you?”
“I don’t need you to worry about me, honey.”
“How can I not?” Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I have worried about you every day since I woke up. I masked it with anger because I thought that would help me handle my situation more, but it didn’t… I know you’re dying, James. Whether you want to be honest with yourself or me, that doesn’t matter. I can see it. And… I can’t let you die alone. Please don’t make either of us die alone.”
Logan launched himself at you, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you close. He was full-on sobbing now; the walls that he had put up now crumbled to dust. “I’m so sorry… baby, I’m so sorry…”
Your arms came around to hold him. “Please don’t make me leave…”
“No, no,” Logan shook his head as he pulled back and gently cradled your head in his hands. “You’re not going anywhere… Honey… I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t need to keep apologizing.”
“I will never stop, baby. Until my dying breath. And I never expect your forgiveness for my behavior… for my words.” He reluctantly let you go as he pulled your dog tags out from underneath his shirt.
“My ring,” you gasped as you saw it sitting there.
“I went back and got it,” he explained as he removed it from the chain. “I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else taking it.”
“I thought it was gone… I thought…”
One of Logan’s hands went up to cup your cheek as the other held your ring. “I said things I didn’t mean… I told you that our marriage wasn’t real when it was the most real thing in my entire life. You are my wife. I am your husband. Whether or not it’s on an official document.” He easily slipped the ring on your finger, eyes boring into yours. “You are my wife.” He moved his hands to your neck before he kissed your cheek. “You are my wife.” He then kissed your other cheek. You were growing hotter as his beard scratched your skin in a different way than you were used to. “I am your husband.” He kissed your nose. “You are my wife.” Then his lips finally crashed onto yours.
You pulled Logan closer as he fought for dominance in your mouth. Slowly, you lay down, forcing Logan to get on top of you. Logan never broke the kiss, taking you in like a starving man. His hands moved to slide under your shirt, feeling your heated skin. He groaned as he pulled his hands away, and his lips left yours.
“I’m sorry,” you panted. “I’m just… It’s been too long.”
“I know, honey,” he rasped. “I’m feeling the same way.”
“I can try to cool down—“
“Don’t. I can handle it.” He kissed you again. “Let me try to make amends.”
next chapter >
#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlet x reader#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett x female!reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x mutant reader#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#wolverine fanfiction#the wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x reader#x men x reader#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader#old man!logan x reader
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Hello,how are you? I saw your post asking for fic ideas so here's one I hope you like it
Assistant reader who has worked with Eminem since the beginning of his career, the public and his kids love her, the kids always goes to her for advice and see her as part of the family . Marshall admires her and her relationship with his kids, He has always been attracted to her, but he respects her a lot and thinks she can find someone better, They are very close and know each other like no one else. They have fight a few times but she would always go to him and put some sense into his head and they would make up. Maybe she could have an accident or become very ill and end up in the hospital, he is terrified at the prospect of losing her. They get so stressed about the situation that they have a very serious fight, he says a lot of shit and she sends him away. A few days pass and they don't talk to each other, he didn't want to apologize and decided to wait until she came back and fix the things like she always did, but the things he said during the fight really hurt her and she decided to resign from her assistant position, she sent an email with the details of her contract termination.
You decide what happens next.
PS: I really loved your writing, sorry for the long request, I like to detail things, if you don't like the idea or don't feel comfortable writing this you can completely ignore it please.
Hugs and bye (◠‿・)—☆
my assistant - eminem
fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers
masterlist
synopsis: Y/N is Marshall's assistant. They're close and best friends until something goes wrong in her life...
A/N: hi! I know it's been a while, i've been super stressed with finals and stuff but i'm finally back on track and I wrote this. there's more to come since I have a ton of requests to have fun with! hope you enjoy this one. and i'm so glad to hear you liked my writing!
-Marsh!
-What?!
-Dre’s on the phone for you! Something about needing you to re-record something!
Marshall groaned from his office. Y/N giggled at his antics, he really could be a grump at times. She continued to put away files and work on his busy schedule, something she’d done every day for years.
Y/N had been Marshall’s assistant since what felt like forever, and it sort of was. Ever since his career took off, she’d been by his side. She did her job well, and never gave anyone on the team any reason to doubt her abilities. Not to mention she was always the go-to for advice. Marshall was always asking for advice; situations big or small, his mind always went to call Y/N. And his kids did the same. And his friends. And his team.
The public always wondered about their relationship, about what happened behind closed doors. “She and I are just close friends. That’s all.” And truthfully, that was all there was to it. They were friends. Though he’d often find himself wondering and daydreaming about what it’d feel like if they were more, he always stopped himself before it could get any deeper. He knew she deserved better. She was smart, kind, and hilarious. Surely, she’d find another man more attractive and muscular and smarter and funnier. Surely, she wouldn’t want a man like him. But, in actuality, they were both stuck in a cycle of feeling this way. She felt he deserved someone who related to him more. Someone prettier, someone more famous. Why would he want an accountant when he could easily have a bombshell?
Everyone around them knew how they felt about each other, except, apparently, them. They knew each other inside and out. Marshall knew all of her nervous tics; like her lip biting, finger picking, leg bouncing, pen tapping, and arm crossing. And, in return, she knew all of his icks; loud chewing, gum popping, loud singing, loud speaking, fingernail tapping, and slurping. They could read one another like books, unless, of course, it came to romance.
Y/N had been to enough family dinners at his house to know this. She was basically a Mathers herself. She became a Mathers when Hailie got her first period and Marshall had no clue on what to do. When she told him what to buy at the supermarket while she washed Hailie’s bed sheets and clothes. When she helped Hailie with her first breakup. And she became a Mathers when Marshall started his journey with sobriety and she was with him the whole time. Marshall admired her greatly. He admired her bravery and courage, her kindness and empathy, her ambition and perseverance, it seemed like everything life threw at her, she could easily push past it. He respected her a lot. He also respected how much a perfectionist she was. She made sure her nails were properly painted and if not they looked well groomed; cuticles always cut, nails long and strong, filed to perfection. Her hair was done meticulously, clearly also well taken care of. Her skin had a light glow to it. Marshall admired this for years. He admired and respected every aspect about her, she was like family to him.
However, like friends and family do, there were always a few quarrels. When Y/N was on her period and already in a sour mood, and Marshall decided that would be a good day to be a brat and complain about everything. Y/N adored him, but he could be really childish at times. He whined one too many times and she’d snapped at him. It escalated into an argument that Dre had to promptly break up. Or when Marshall was upset because he had writer's block and Y/N asked if it was really that hard to write a song. He snapped at her too. But, in the end, they always made up. In all honesty, it was usually Y/N that would fix things. She’d go over to him and no matter who was right or wrong, she’d say it was silly and smack him upside the head for staying upset.
The symptoms started mild. A bit of dizziness and fatigue. Walking up the stairs got harder, standing up suddenly quickly became a threat. Marshall and the others had noticed it, but decided not to mention anything. Health business is private business. Then, she started getting weaker. She was fatigued after just walking from the office back to her desk. She got pale. She no longer had that glow to her. Hailie asked Marshall what was wrong, but even he didn’t know.
She was always short of breath. When she talked, she occasionally slurred her words. She’d stumble through the hallway, just trying to make it back to her desk. This went on for months. In the beginning, Marshall took the pallor and fatigue as stress and exhaustion from work. He no longer complained, instead taking on some of her duties in an attempt to alleviate her. He saw nothing changed, in fact, it only worsened.
She started having heart palpitations. They became more frequent as the weeks flew by. When she’d hug her friends or set a hand down on someone’s arm, they’d notice that they were cold as ice. Her nails, something she once cared for, were now brittle. Her hair, once shiny and well put together, was now thinning and falling like a withering tree in the fall.
Almost a year had passed since the symptoms started. It was a somewhat normal day in the studio. Y/N walked in with Marshall’s weekly schedule in hand. Today, the windows weren’t coated with curtains like they usually were. Today, Marshall saw Y/N in the natural light. He noticed how pale she’d become. How her hair was now messy and thinned. How she looked almost malnourished.
He loved her the same, but he was concerned. He asked her to sit beside him on the couch, looking towards the others in the studio. Certainly the others had to have noticed her dire state. She sat carefully, moving slowly in an attempt to not exhaust herself too much. Her eyes darted around the room in confusion. Why was everyone looking at her like that?
She sat there for a while, when she realized she needed to finish a document for Paul.
-Shit!
-What? What’s wrong?
-I need to finish that paper for Paul. I’ll see you guys later.
Y/N stood up madly. Suddenly, she felt her body numb slightly and her eyes roll into the back of her head. She felt dizzy and everything around her felt surreal. She attempted to take a step forward, but instead, her entire body fell forward. Next thing she knew, it all went black.
Marshall saw her stand up. She looked like she was going to hurl. She fell forward and with a thud, she hit the carpeted floor. Everyone in the room ran to her. There was a bustle of voices. Pandemonium broke out. Someone called an ambulance. Marshall couldn’t remember much, but what he did know was that now he was sitting in a hospital lobby. Awaiting any news about his best friend.
The realization settled in. The panic came along with it. He realized that his best friend (and sort of the love of his life) was in a hospital bed right now, unsure of whether or not she’ll make it out of here. He knew he couldn’t lose her.
-It’s anemia. Her case was pretty severe, since it was left untreated for 11 months. She had an iron deficiency, most likely from not eating properly. It could’ve become deadly if she’d left it untreated for too long.
-Anemia?
Marshall couldn’t believe it. All of the signs were there and he never did anything about it. As soon as they let him know she was conscious, he ran into the room. He saw her in the bed and felt a wave of emotions. He felt sad knowing that she was hurting, he felt happy that she was okay, and he felt rage that she let this get that bad and that he hadn’t noticed.
-Hey, Marsh.
-Hey. Did you know you had anemia?
-Wow. Straight to the point. Um, not specifically but, like, I knew there was something wrong.
Marshall started to become upset. How was she so casual about this? If anemia is left untreated, it can result in death.
-And you didn’t do anything about it?
-Well, no. I didn’t expect anything serious?
-The doctor told me that you could’ve died if you didn’t treat it. And he said it was because you weren’t eating. Why weren’t you eating?
-Look, Marsh, I just assumed that it would go away after a while. I didn’t even notice it had gotten that bad. And I mean, I haven’t really had an appetite. I’ve been working a lot and I just think I was stressed.
-Well, you should’ve told me you were feeling overworked! I could’ve helped you! You could’ve died Y/N! Doesn’t that go through your head!
-I’m sorry! I didn’t think it was that deep!
-Yeah? Well it was. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. I came here thinking you got some crazy disease. I was so worried.
-I can’t control my appetite Marsh. And you didn’t have to come.
-Yeah, well, when you’re on your deathbed, alone, you’ll wish you might’ve listened to me.
Y/N’s mouth stayed slightly ajar after that last comment. How could he say that to her? He saw the look on her face and immediately regretted it. He knew he was doing wrong. He knew that it was a terrible thing to say.
-Look, Y/N, I’m so sor-
-Get out.
-What?
-Get out, Marsh. Leave.
And leave he did. He went home that day and had a long night of processing. He concluded that he had a point, but he should’ve phrased it better; he also should have picked a better time to say it. But he didn’t want to apologize. For some unknown reason, he couldn’t find it within himself to go to her and apologize. Eventually, a week had passed. He figured that she’d come to him soon and they’d make up. However, he was proven wrong when he received an email that Paul had forwarded him that morning. The title read “My Resignation”. He began to panic, calling her and sending her countless texts.
He then called Paul, hoping it was a mistake.
-Look, man. I don’t know what you said or did to her, but it must’ve been pretty fucked up. You better go apologize to her now.
Marshall quickly hopped into his car and drove to her house. He parked his car in her driveway, seeing she was home. He knocked on the door furiously, hoping to get ahold of her. She opened the door only a few inches. Enough to see his face. She was about to close the door when he pushed it open. She stumbled back a bit.
-What the hell do you want Marsh?
-Look, Y/N, I came to apologize. I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner. I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I said. I was just scared. I never meant to hurt you or make you feel bad. Especially since you were the one in the hospital bed. When I was the one in trouble, you never did any of that shit to me. I’m so sorry Y/N.
Y/N sighed deeply. As upset as she was with him, she couldn’t stay mad. She was starting to look like her old self again, Marshall realized. She got her glow back, her hair was looking thicker; she looked like she did before. Still a little thin, but back to somewhat normal.
Y/N smiled weakly. She knew she couldn’t be mad at him forever, and this was silly. Marshall looked at her face, smiling, and he realized just how much he loved her. He looked at every feature he’d fallen in love with; her eyes, bright and curious, her lips, pretty and cute, her cheeks, slightly indented with all the smiling she does, but still beautiful. He knew he needed her, and without thinking, he leaned down and connected his lips with hers. It was passionate and sweet. The kiss contained all the words that need not be spoken. When he pulled back, she was smiling like an idiot, wide eyed.
He knew that from then on, he would love her a little harder.
#masterlist#new writer boost#writers on tumblr#eminem imagine#eminem x reader#eminem#marshall mathers#dr dre#50 cent#eminem fanfiction#angst#angst with a happy ending#fluff#one shot
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what are your thoughts on the hyuga siblings and their relationship
OOF now thats one of my favorite naruto dynamics lmao. i think neji and hinata have a very interesting relationship and i say that as someone who really didn't (and tbh still doesn't) love how that relationship developed in canon
i really like the hyuga fight in the chunin exams because the way it's perceived is sooo interesting to me.. neji comes off as an outright bully and i don't even blame the kids for calling him an asshole after all of that, but from reader's perspective it's really obvious that his animosity only exists because of a larger issue...
neji shouldn't treat hinata the way he does, but he does so because of her unique position as a scorned heir. she still benefits from everything that makes his life awful - her life is still valued more than his - but hiashi hates her enough that he won't care if neji dishes out verbal abuse on her. it's an awful dynamic and definitely contributes to hinata's terrible self-worth, but it's a symptom of the life they have been forced into by the man who the manga is intent on letting escape all of the blame for this situation lmao
(hiashi himself can be a really fascinating case honestly. i think he fully means everything he says, which is what makes him so grating but fun to me LOL. his apology to neji is entirely sincere AND it completely misses the point of all of the issues, but neji is young and deprived of acknowledgement enough that he accepts it wholeheartedly. hiashi thinks he's the best uncle of all time.)
hinata herself has so little belief in her own worth that she just sits there and takes whatever abuse people throw at her... i don't actually think neji's anger towards her was a constant - i think some people interpret it that way - rather i feel like it was something that came up whenever he was pushed too far. in more normal circumstances where he's not being made to fight her directly, he was likely more detached than anything. he wanted nothing to do with her.
in one of the filler mini arcs ive mentioned before (i think. the one that focuses on hanabi and hinata) there's a scene that rang very true to me (and im gonna recount this without rewatching it atm so sorry if i get details wrong,): neji was being made to train with hinata, asked to be allowed to leave because he felt his time was being wasted and correctly noted that it doesn't have to be him here, was told no by hiashi and then he started getting vicious and violent. towards hinata, of course, not hiashi. he then got horribly punished for it LOL i think that's the general dynamic they were living in, neji reaches a limit of disrespect that he can take and explodes on the nearest most acceptable target (we loove a boy with no emotional regulation <3), goes too far and suffers the consequence of it while nothing else changes. to him interacting with hinata at all is just asking for pain, either emotional or straight up physical
But, for hinata, she saw herself and neji as similar (the black sheep of the family i suppose), and would have liked to bond over that fact; theyve known each other since they were very little and she outright refers to him as a brother. it's clear to me she's always cared a lot about neji and imo feels responsible for what happened to his father (something that hiashi doesn't help with. Dad of the year), so she saw their match in the exams as a chance to close the distance between them and get neji to see her as a person, an equal instead of a symbol to lash out on.
but, you know, she was 12 LMAO so she ended up pressing all of his buttons instead and it led to his famous outburst, which led to the famous moment of Every Single Jonin (other than asuma.) coming to stop him and further cementing his belief that her life is seen as special. i think (and this is a mix of Shit I Made up, and Me trying to make sense of the manga's insane mishandling of their plotline) that despite her trying her hardest to reach neji she didn't really grasp the horror of his situation. that's the tragedy of neji's life really LMAO, no one really tries to grapple with the severity of what having that curse mark does to a person. she thought of his fatalism as more of a psychological, metaphorical way of dealing with hurt and not like... "my life literally does not belong to me no matter how much i try to fight it"
this is loooooong take this readmore.
i think hiashi-hizashi were hoping that the cousins could have had a better relationship than they did... letting them hang out often and stuff, introducing them early, hizashi not discouraging neji from being friendly with her, to me it all reads as very "ok well this didn't work for Us, but what if it works out for them... even though literally nothing has changed". they were proper family once and hizashi wanted to die for his brother, not his leader, so that just makes sense to me.
i do nautttt like the naruto vs neji fight so to keep the post positive i will gloss over it <3 but hinata and neji's relationship post-chunin exams to me is peak like. God i wish this was done better because it could have been soooo good
neji realizes that his anger is consuming him and adjusts his behavior accordingly, getting a lot of his kindness back, and he becomes intent on fixing his relationship with hinata... i don't hate that premise at all, it's just the way it's executed that bothers me!
the impression i got (and i could be mistaken im in the process of rewatching the anime + rereading the manga) is that their relationship getting better is done exclusively through like. neji repenting for being mean to her. which, don't get me wrong, he SHOULD apologize (AND THAT WOULDVE BEEN A COOL THING TO SEE ONSCREEN, BTW) but you CANNOT divorce his behavior from the hyuga system in general. from the way they act after the exams you would think their issues were born solely from neji being a bully for no reason, and not, like... him lashing out on her because his uncle is literally the devil.
i don't think hinata has the power to change a lot in her clan on short notice (she did get disowned. did that un-happen offscreen? we will never know. Hiashi gets to be a grandfather to her children btw.) but i certainly would have liked to see her standing up for branch members and in the stuff i draw that's the story i have in mind LMAO. like, her gaining a deeper understanding of neji's situation and trying to work against her father trying to make her cousin's life better? i think that would have been really sweet and even show her gaining more confidence in herself and her beliefs. you can still have neji fussing over her and being protective because he feels bad for how they used to be, i actually really like that because neji IS a very sweet person, i just reject the idea that it's his sole Moral Obligation to put everything aside and make things better by the power of I Will Die For You Now, But This Time, For The Right Reasons
as for hanabi i wish she had more screentime soooo bad because i'm obsessed with how she gives off Haunted Child vibes lmfao. talking abt her requires me to expose myself a little bit and have to admit hiashi is kind of a blorbo to me because of how much he sucks ass, but like. Essentially his insane resentment of hinata was born when hizashi died, it doesnt matter it wasn't really her fault, he needed someone to blame and he would never blame himself, at least not outwardly lol. hiashi did genuinely love his brother, it just didn't stop him from being a monster to him, and he is certainly not gonna grapple with that now that he's dead!
(and, you know, the whole "sorry we sent a guy to kidnap an heir. you do need to die for killing him though" thing is really dumb but if we stop at every single stupid thing in naruto we will be here all day.)
with all that being said i think hiashi tries his best to make hanabi everything hinata isn't, and he has very little interest in having her and hinata have any bond at all. he just left neji and hinata to fester in that god-awful dynamic with no supervising, and took hanabi as the best direction for the clan to head towards. but, you know, father of the year is very demanding and doesn't seem to be very fatherly to her at all from the little we see of them. she's just like. a good soldier, and that's what he needs.
i think hanabi growing to resent her sister for the situation she's been put into (if hinata weren't 'weak' she wouldn't have so much responsibility) is very interesting! by the time we meet her i think she's learned that the best thing to do wrt her sister is to just ignore that she exists. as for neji he barely registers as a presence to her; neji has no reason to interact with her and hiashi has no reason to incentivize it. it's very fun to me!
in general i really like all of their dynamics can be used to explore how hurt and trauma drive people apart, i could talk about them for hourssss LMAO i love the suna family for the same reason!
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GUYS HELP ME WITH THIS THEORY
spoiler warnings for chapter 7:
One thing I noticed a lot are the symbolic details this issue in particular has.
First, everyone probably knows this already, but usually the TF2 comics take as a reference classic comic covers, “Ring of fire” references Spiderman for example, “Old wounds” reference Watchmen, “The naked and the dead” references Crisis on infinite Earths, and this one, while I’m not 100% sure, I think it references Batman year one, where we all see the classic picture of Bruce Wayne contemplating his now dead parents and all that yadda yadda.
Before I proceed, pay attention to this
Now read it again but check out the different scenarios of the covers
“MY GRANDFATHER, EBENEZER MANN. SHIPPING MAGNATE. YOUNGEST OF FIVE SONS. EVERY BROTHER IN THE GROUND BY THE TIME HE BOUGHT HIS FIRST FLEET.”
“MY FATHER, EZEKIEL MANN. RAILROAD TYCOON. MIDDLE CHILD. A HOUSE FIRE CLAIMED HIS THREE SISTERS.”
But especially the last one:
“ZEPHENIAH MANN. ME. MUNITIONS MAGNATE. ONLY SON, SADLY.”
Now, This is my first hypothesis but I don’t believe that last one part, about him being an only son. I also think there are symbolisms and details on the last cover, we see drawings and sketches or prototypes or patents or whatever about guns and weapons all over the floor, and 3 hats which could mean there were 3 siblings but one (Zepheniah) killed the others, and I think the last one cover are the actual admin’s parents and the other 3 are her ancestors… Probably (I don’t know how to say it in English sorry). I also think something about her having 3 fake identities could mean something but I’m not sure yet (Elizabeth, Helen, Emily).
My hypothesis is this, even though the admin couldn’t remember why she wanted revenge towards Zepheniah and achieving said goal by watching the legacy of his family slowly crumble by making the siblings fight each other for eternity and then forcing him to watch it... I think the admin is the daughter or some family member of one of the hypothetical Zepheniah’s siblings that he murdered because of “instincts” like he said, like it’s a family tradition that one sibling must kill the others to steal their achievements and continue the Mann legacy (I feel like the statue of the thinker made by Rodin and Zepheniah replacing its head with his could be a metaphor of that)
ALSO, ANOTHER THING THAT BACKS MH HYPOTHESIS:
If the admin had no correlation AT ALL with the Mann family, then how did she know about the australium even when she was a child? (note: she probably didn't know what Australium could do, calling it "Fools gold" until Gray Mann told her about the power it actually had and then she had the motivation to continue her revenge, however this doesn’t mean that she wasn’t in contact with the Australium before)
And one last detail and symbolism
The roses that grow up in the grave could symbolize Zepheniah and in general, Mann’s legacy. By cutting the roses and putting the mere stems on his grave, could mean that she is cutting this “legacy” or rather “dooming” to become nothing at the end of it by making the brothers fight and all the gravel wars stuff, not letting one brother succeed over the other unlike the past generations.
Hm, there are more things on my mind but first I want to re-think it better and if everything makes sense. I’m open to suggestions, corrections and or even a better wording of my theory. This is all rushed to which I apologize. 😔
#team fortress 2#tf2#tf2 comics#spoilers#tf2 spoilers#tf2 administrator#fan theory#tf2 theory#Heaven knows I would be too powerful if I could write english like I write spanish#the brain is braining#... kinda#theory
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MY DEAR i apologize for the random drabble request pls don't feel pressured to do this if you do not wish🩵
but as u know, I love how you write the Dia gang🥺 and I crave crumbs of Lilia being put in a scenario where he actually needs to drop his 'ufufu' act and be protective over a one Silver Vanrouge
which is something I have not found yet in canon materials, very sadly, (but pls correctly me if i am wrong bc I am not in-the-know of all the vignettes and such)
There is one great moment in Book 7 where Lilia literally gets shot by a cannon while shielding Silver and he didn't even remember Silver was his son, his body just reacted on its own. Such good angst 😭 and then Jade's lab vignette has a pretty cute moment between the two with Lilia thinking Silver was getting poisoned.
But yes, I have written something for you (sorry it took so long lol) please enjoy and thank you for asking!
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
‘Shouldn’t he be taking less naps by now?’ Lilia thought to himself.
In all of the human parenting books he read, most of them said that young humans tend to stop napping regularly at around four years old. Unless Silver was in the 30% margin of human five-year-olds needing naps, Lilia couldn’t find rhyme or reason for Silver to be this tired so frequently.
When Silver was a baby, Lilia often praised him for his ability to go to sleep easily. It was a far cry from Malleus, who hated naps even when he was a wee little dragon. For a while, the only problem Silver really had was something called ‘colic’ and that thankfully passed by the time he reached 6 months.
He had his suspicions it could have something to do with the state Lilia found him in…Lost in the throes of a protective sleep spell for over 400 years. The spell should’ve broken by now, otherwise Silver wouldn’t be here with him at all, tottering about in their front yard.
He felt in his gut that some of Silver’s quirks weren’t normal, but he had no way of knowing for sure. He never lived with a human before nor took care of one. He kept telling himself that maybe human children would fall asleep standing up.
He was brushing up on his reading because of his anxious observations. It was his way of dissuading himself from worrying. That’s when he heard what sounded like a heavy object being dropped down the stairs…The stairs that led up to Silver’s bedroom.
“Silver? Are you causing any mischief up there?” He asks playfully, but he got no response which was odd.
He went to inspect the sound and found Silver collapsed at the bottom of the stairs, limbs contorted in ways he’d see the deceased on the battlefield lie, not befitting for a little five-year-old.
After a moment of standing there, in shock at what he was seeing, his senses finally came back to him and he rushed over to investigate. There was a cut just above Silver’s delicate forehead, and blood was gushing out.
“Silver! Please speak to me!” He attempted, but got nothing. Then panic set in, those colorful little bandaids he had on hand wouldn’t be enough to close up this wound, and he had no healing potion on hand.
The blood reached down to his white eyelashes and wasn’t stopping. Was he gravely injured? Was he dying?
He already knew humans were fragile, but could stairs really kill him?
All these unknowns swirled in his brain and he felt like he did when Silver first got ill as a baby. Completely blind, making stuff up on the spot, a novice in the ways of raising a human, guilty of not handing Silver over to willing humans who would’ve taken him in and raised him better.
He took Silver into his arms, not caring that his blood stained his newly cleaned white shirt, and took to a broomstick to fly all the way to the nearest human clinic.
When he arrived, there was someone new at the front desk, a human employee he had never seen before instead of someone familiar.
“This child fell down my stairs. He’s bleeding and he isn’t responding, I need help.” Lilia told her with urgency.
“Sir, where did you find this child?” She asked, not knowing.
He had fallen into his usual habit of referring to Silver as ‘the kid he looked after’ like he would around Baur. This woman took one look at him and knew they didn’t match.
“He’s mine.” Lilia asserted.
“But you’re-“
“Yes, I know I’m a fae, but he’s my child and he needs help! Where’s the doctor?!” He quickly lost his patience with her.
His heart was already pounding out of his chest, feeling unworthy of calling Silver his own. The judgmental reaction he was met with had validated his feelings of inadequacy.
The usual doctor stepped out and recognized them, apologizing for his new employee’s reaction. He took one look at Silver in his arms and took him to the back where Silver would normally get his annual check-ups.
The doctor wiped the blood away to reveal that the cut Silver got across his hairline was not as deep as it looked.
“There are many tiny arteries around the head, that’s why the bleeding was so profuse at a small cut,” the doctor explained, “With some gauze, it should heal up like normal.”
“But he’s unconscious,” Lilia told him, “that’s dangerous for humans.”
“This wound isn’t deep enough for that. Children often get more hurt when they try bracing themselves for a fall, but I believe Silver went limp before he fell down the stairs as you described.” The doctor told him as he wrapped the bandage around his son’s head.
Silver didn’t necessarily look in pain, just asleep as he normally was…Except that wasn’t normal, was it?
“What do you mean? Are you saying he wasn’t conscious when he fell?” Lilia asks.
The doctor turns to him, a serious expression on his face.
“I know you’re new to this and as you’ve told me before, you haven’t interacted with humans much before adopting him…But excessive sleepiness is not normal for a child his age.” The doctor said, and Lilia felt the pit in his stomach grow.
“It’s not?” He repeats dumbly, of course, it’s not! Why did he allow so much room for doubt in his mind, pushing his concerns aside, believing that he was making up it being an issue.
“No, and the fact that his injury hasn’t woken him up is concerning. I think you should look into consulting medical mages or human doctors closer in the city about this.” The doctor recommended, “It could be an underlying neurological disorder.”
‘Or a blessing turned curse,’ Lilia thinks in his head. He couldn’t tell the doctor that, though, he couldn’t tell anyone. Not even Malleus, nor Silver even when he’s old enough to understand. This is his secret to keep close to his heart.
“If you have any recommendations, please let me know.” Lilia requests, “I’ll take him to whatever doctor or mage he needs to go to solve this.”
Would anyone be able to find out what’s wrong, though?
Ancient magic was seeped into his bones, there was no known cure for that. But if someone could find anything, then…
Silver stirred and was understandably disoriented from his change in surroundings. He started to tear up, which he hadn’t done in a long time, and Lilia pulled him into a hug where he could muffle his soft cries into his shoulder.
“Thank you for always helping me.” He thanked the human doctor, who returned similar sentiments.
“I was surprised when Dr. Zigvolt referred you to us,” he said, referring to Baur’s son-in-law, “A fae raising a human isn’t exactly common, but I can tell you both care for each other. You have a good kid, I’m sure you raised him to be that way.”
“So you’ve noticed,” Lilia replied light-heartedly. Silver turned his face to the familiar doctor, now ashamed by his tears, and wanted to thank him for patching him up. “What do we say, Silver?”
“Thank you sir,” Silver says in a small voice.
“You two take care.” The doctor bids them farewell on the way out.
As they left, Silver looked up at him with his side, auroral eyes, and tilted his bandaged head in curiosity.
“Papa, you’re gripping my hand really tight. What’s wrong?” He asks, “Is it cause I hurt myself?”
Silver could be strangely perceptive, almost wise beyond his short years. Yes, Lilia had Silver in a tighter grip than usual, afraid a possible second slip up would send them right back to where they start.
Lilia could never tell Silver about who his parents truly were or where he came from or even why he is the way he is. He would keep having to lie about that, and lying to that sweet little face was already so hard.
Silver didn’t even know he was adopted yet, it’s like everything about their little life was one big secret.
But he couldn’t lie about this.
“I’m a little worried about you, that’s all. The nice doctor told me that your sleepiness isn’t normal.” He broke the news, to which Silver looked down at his tiny feet in shame, “But it’s alright because I’m going to take you to many doctors so we can find a cure.”
“That’s good!” Silver looked up with a smile, “Then I can still be a knight, right?”
“Yes, you can.” Lilia said, swinging both their arms back and forth, “And Silver?”
Silver looked back at him.
“Please try not to scare your papa.”
#oddberry fics#twst fics#twst#twisted wonderland#twst silver#lilia vanrouge#diafam fics are my jam next to scarabia angst
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I find the writing of 806 absolutely wildly awful. First, we have a date that is completely antithetical to what we've been shown a week before; we had an established couple who takes care of each other like it's the most natural thing in the world and evidently spends a lot of time together, we have Tommy 100% integrated in Buck's everyday life both on their own and with the 118 (the hospital scene, the birthday party for Chris) and all of a sudden we get Buck bumbling over a hot girl who doesn't say he's on a date (100% OOC) and who doesn't even know Tommy's gay and not bi. Second idiotic idea, Buck's answering yes to Josh's questions which are evidently things you would only say yes to if you loved someone (you don't put someone's happiness above yours if you're casually dating) and then randomly regurgitating that awkward speech instead of a very simple ' I love you' which he's had no trouble using before with other people. It just DOES NOT MAKE SENSE.
i feel like when y’all send me these messages, you’re expecting the long-winded responses at this point (at least I hope so 😂😂). EIther way, you’re about to get one lolololol.
I won’t disagree with you on the writing entirely. I don’t hate it as much as others do, mostly because I feel like I ~kindof understand what they were going for, but it wasn’t perfect by any measure. It left a lot to be desired, and I think what they were doing could’ve been achieved more effectively in other ways.
I also don’t think you’re wrong about how it feels antithetical, especially when we have Buck suggesting to Eddie in 705 that Tommy is gay, and we’re supposed to believe these two are spending all their spare time together, but are apparently not having real conversations during all that time. To that end, I can’t solve that issue for the writers. However, there are parts of your argument that I have counters to.
For one thing, I don’t think we can knock the fact that even being in a committed relationship doesn’t stop the best of us from stumbling over ourselves when we see someone we’re attracted to. People get so upset about how Buck acts in this scene that they fail to appreciate the major points that I actually enjoy about it: Buck yes, looks, (and is obvious about it), but he apologizes to his boyfriend about it in a way that makes it clear that he’s not outwardly interested in the women. Tommy also tells him that it’s okay (and we know that there’s a deleted line from this scene where he mentions finding one of the waiters good looking). To that end, we get the distinction that while these two don’t have an interest in stepping out on each other, they’re not blind.
People also get upset about the lack of Buck’s distinction that he’s on a date. And while there are a million different reasons to complain about it (or explain it away), I’m gonna go with the obvious answer of, he doesn’t owe some random woman in an italian eatery his personal life situation, especially in a place where he may not feel ready to express exactly how he defines himself. There’s a massive difference between accepting things about yourself and actually dignifying it out loud, and the fandom has been so quick to assume one requires the other. Buck knows he’s bisexual; he even knows his feelings for Tommy are deep. That doesn’t necessarily have to mean he’s put a label on who he is. Just speaking from personal experience on reaching a point where I’m comfortably labeling myself as queer,… I even struggle with that. Because people throw around all of these terms (bi, queer, pan, etc.), and it creates this pressure to say exactly what you are, which I don’t think is fair to real people, let alone a fictional character. Some might say his decision to not dignify it verbally suggests fear to, but I don’t think that’s the issue.
Further, I think the issue of “he doesn’t know Tommy’s gay”… I don’t think that’s the intention with the question. When watching it back, first of all, you have to remember from a writing standpoint, they have to have an entry for how Tommy and Abby were (previously) inclined. Moreover, asking Tommy if he’s ever been with a woman is not the same as asking him if he’s gay. Those are two entirely different questions. I can literally cite from a book to you that I own (Guilded Razors by Sam Lansky) which directly discusses being involved with women even though he knew he was gay. Evan first says that he notices Tommy didn’t look at the women when he did. I imagine that trying to figure out how fluid he is in his own mindset towards both sexes makes it confusing to understand someone who is strictly straight or gay. I can’t conceptualize of it and I’ve known personally that I liked both since I was in middle school. So I don’t think it’s ridiculous for him to ask his boyfriend (who he later will distinguish as someone he’s extremely comfortable with, and would be comfortable asking those kinds of questions to) about his attraction (or lack thereof) to women. I also think it has more to do with the follow-up question (“have you ever been with a woman”). Sometimes we ask questions that we already have the answer to just so we can get to the follow-up. When you intersect that with the “How do we bring Abby in to the conversation” of it all, it makes sense.
Second, I totally agree that Evan answering those questions points to him being in love with Tommy. When I wrote up my psychology breakdown of the break-up, I referenced two things which tell us they’re in love with one another.
-The entire “we don’t have to go that far” exchange with Josh. I think there’s a lot to be said about the fact that with Evan still figuring himself out, maybe it’s hard for him to dignify being in love with Tommy verbally. I also think that when you’re an adult and you get into serious relationships like this, there’s a period of time where you’re in love with them but you haven’t put a label on it.
-“If I were move in with you, you won’t mean to, you wouldn’t plan for it, but you’d end up breaking my heart. And I don’t think that I could deal with that.” THIS ENTIRE FUCKING LINE MY GOD. (Just rip my heart out LFJr.)
However, I think your argument about the fact that he skips over the “I love you” and straight to “move in with me” negates some serious engagement with the source material. First of all, we have an acknowledgment that Tommy’s clearly responding from a place of trauma. He’s responding from a place of “I love you more and then lose you; better to lose you here and now by my own hand”. From Buck’s side, we’ve seen him struggle with being in love. He was in love with Abby and never got to tell her, and then was strung along for months until he finally ended things in a letter to her. He was left by Ali when she couldn’t deal with his “lifestyle” (job). Love may not have entered the equation there, but he was clearly serious about her. Taylor was messy for him, but he clearly felt deeply for her, and even that blew up in his face. There are competing schools of thought on whether he truly loved her or not, but at the end of the day, that relationship fell apart due to issues with trust. Natalia wasn’t around long enough for him to dignify anything towards her.
And then there’s the mess with his parents. We’ve never had this acknowledged, but I struggle to believe that Evan grew up in a house where “I love you” was actually said out loud very much (if at all). Based on how absent we know Phillip and Margaret were (and are to some degree still), I feel like they probably lived by the attitude of “we may not have always said it, but we always felt it”….which isn’t really good enough as a parent. Your kids need to hear you say it, and they need to know it’s okay to say it back. When you don’t have that foundation, it’s hard to put those feelings into words towards others, even if you do feel it, because they might burn you. Evan has been burned, and even though we don’t know a lot of his backstory, we know Tommy has too. So while you argue that he’s used those three words towards others in the past, I counter with, did it feel this real? Did stand to lose as much? Because I don’t really view the relationship as Tommy being more in it than Evan is. I think we’re kind-of getting that “grew up in the same house but turned out different” trope. We see Tommy as someone who wants to take care of the person he loves because he hasn’t had that before, while Buck fumbles his way through wondering if it’s okay to do those things because no one has really shown him how. There’s also been commentary on the fact that he asked Tommy to move in instead of saying “I love you” because this entire relationship has been grand gestures. I think there’s something dignifying in that choice. He’s telling Tommy he sees a future with him. He talks about things like marriage, but from Tommy’s end it reads as out of left field from someone who’s still figuring out who they are in their sexuality. I think (after watching the scene back), that Evan doesn’t necessarily feel that way about himself, but the same way he railroads Tommy with the starry-eyed future, Tommy kind-of does the same thing back to him with the breakup. It’s very…. “I pushed you five steps in the wrong direction and now you’re pushing me ten steps back” (for lack of a better metaphor). And I know people argue about the fact that this entire relationship has been so key with communication from day one, but those forms of communication have never required the two of them to get down into their traumas with one another. It’s really fucking easy to have day-to-day conversations with people that stay on the surface and just keep powering through. Go back to 710 and notice how we don’t go deep into the daddy issues. They both touch on them, and then Evan changes the subject and Tommy goes with him on it. I don’t think it’s unreasonable at six months in to not have done a deep dive on major trauma. You can skate around it if it’s not something you’re ready to talk about. It’s one of my reasons for why these two will ultimately be back together in 8b, because at some point you have to flesh out the unfinished business of it all (ala Wyatt and Judd when Judd’s leg was broken). Now, I don’t know if that happens the involvement of a serial killer, or a truck/jeep/helicopter accident, or trapped in a burning building… I just know that at some point, it has to come to fruition. TM enjoys these kinds of standoffs too much to not have a plan for these two to end up in one.
That all said, I’ve said before, the general audience doesn’t have a psychology degree or years of trauma counseliing under their belt. They’re not going to look at these two and read it the same way I can. TM probably doesn’t even realize the way he’s writing it is very direct into psychological motives 😂
But, just to cover my own skin… I could always be wrong. One of my very favorite people has a completely different theory on how b/t will be handled, and we agree to disagree 😂😂😂. as I’ve said to him “the best part of this entire scenario is that one of us eventually has to be wrong”.
(circling back to your “simple i love you” just one last time as I looked at it again…. it feels siimple to us as an audience. however, verbalizing that shit out loud when you fear rejection and abandonment is an entirely different story. we know they had abandonment on the brain for Buck going into the midseason finale, and this obviously would’ve played right into it. So in what world are you going to expect him to give up “I love you” when he’s about to be broken up with. That would’ve been unnecessarily cruel.)
My last little addition, to circle back to other points I’ve made… there’s a give and take in this relationship that we need (or at least deserve) to see. Personally, I feel like Buck will be the first one to say “I love you”, but my preference would be that Tommy does. It’s the whole issue of stepping beyond the fear for me that makes me feel that way.
By correlation, I feel like Buck has to give up the loft. He asks Tommy to move in, but we’ve had many discussions about the fact that Tommy has a house with a car lift and a muay thai set up. those are not things that would translate well into a loft. Having that trade-off would show a meeting in the middle on things that they both hold close to the vest. Tommy allowing himself to love and be loved would be a major point for him, while Evan giving up the loft would suggest that he’s not just in things for the short-term, because he can also give things up for Tommy. (also, the loft is very bachelor-esque, and these two are not bachelors when they’re with each other so….)
sorry not sorry. you’re welcome for my rambles lol
#mel's musings#bucktommy#tevan#kinley#kinkley#firepilot#firebeast#anon ask#911 discourse#bucktommy discourse#ask me anything#my asks are always open
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thinking about how taco and the rest of the s1 contestants would react to finding out she was practically made to win. like mephone visits the hotel post-finale talking about how he thinks they deserve to know what he planned for them to be like, and literally everyone ends up staring at taco when they hear about it. she probably wouldn’t even believe it at first. and then to think that she must have done something to ruin it for herself??
i also personally like to think that taco may have been one of the first ii contestants to break away from her programming and become her own person, even if she didn’t realize that’s what she was doing
Hello there :D!!!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in your hc!!!!! :] XD
HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE THE MOST RIGHT EVER. FINALLY A REASON TO TALK MORE ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!! THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH ANON!!!! (also sorry because I have been thinking about this a lot a lot a lot so i might deviate a bit more from your ask than i usually do). SHE. WAS. BUILT. TO. WIN. BUT SHE DIDN'T.
A little tangent before I go into Taco finding out, I think the reason she lost despite having been supposed to win is actually because of Bow. Now, I've mentioned before how Bow is literally the reason that Taco lost- Taco getting attacked by her is how OJ was able to catch up and beat her in the final footrace. But on a more meta level, Bow disrupted the original plan for the season. She wasn't part of the original cast. Mephone was forced by A.D.A.M. to let her in the show after she appeared halfway through the season!! Her inclusion was not in Mephone's plan. Her showing up threw things out of whack, culminating in her influence causing the intended winner of the season to lose.
Taco having been the planned winner actually makes season 2's existence make more sense, too. OJ won and built everyone a big shiny hotel to live in, they had a happy ending and everything they could want! Had Taco won, though, she (most likely, I have thoughts on this but I won't go on a tangent for the tangent) would have left with the money!!! The rest of the cast would have been left with squat, and without even a winner to celebrate since Taco ditches them. Perfect reason to start another season, right there in the same spot as season 1 took place!!! Give someone else the chance to win after the last winner got her prize and dipped. I can see her taking on her "iconoclast" role even better here, too. She won, but she isn't happy. She accomplished her goal, has everything she wants, but she's alone. So she goes back and works behind the scenes to try and put a stop to the game that pushed her to such extremes. She sees how it impacts and hurts everyone involved, and wants to put a stop to it. She allies with Mic more altruistically, to try and help someone being hurt by the game as she works to put a stop to it!! Truth or Flare can still happen relatively normally, even, with Taco desperately trying to convince the contestants to quit before they end up like her! Having won the money, but really ended up with nothing. Her redemption arc comes as her trying to fix her wrongdoings by preventing others from making the same mistakes she did. She can apologize to Pickle, explain herself, and they can be friends again!
But that's not how it happened. The other "meaner" characters get their redemptions as planned. Knife in season 2, Nickel in season 3, even Silver apologizes and gets to continue to have a relationship with Candle after he punches her flame out, even if it's a but strained for some time. But Taco? Her programming couldn't properly execute. She was built to win, but she didn't. So Mephone no longer had a planned redemption for her, or any plans for her, really. In Truth or Flare, in which Mephone had his memories back, he is surprised to see Taco show up. He did not realize she was still around. Still running mostly on her old programming despite her hating herself for it, and trying to break out of it, because the previous conditions to begin her redemption arc were never met. She had to get to "winning the game, but losing what really mattered" in a different way, that way being winning immunity for Mic in episode 14, but losing her most important connection because of it. Once that happens, she can finally really begin to change and be better, because the condition has finally been met, even if it wasn't quite how it was intended to be.
OH RIGHT YOUR ASK IS ABOUT HOW TACO AND THE OTHER S1 CONTESTANTS REACT TO FINDING OUT. UH. OOPSIES. I AM SO SORRY. GETTING TO IT NOW.
I honestly hadn't though about Mephone telling them outright!!! It would be some good growth for him to be the one to decide to tell them something important like this, that they have the right to know. He'd probably have to leave again soon after though. I can't imagine Taco taking it any sort of well. You're right that she wouldn't believe it first, she wouldn't want to believe it at first. That all this? Everything? The years of suffering? Because she was defective? Couldn't win, even though she was made to? Was it all for nothing? Even if she had won, she still would have been alone? Pickle could have forgiven her, if only she'd been able to fulfill her purpose? Augh, that's all so scrambled, but that's how she'd be thinking, you know? She would be so overwhelmed, shocked, in despair, mourning, heartbroken, all at the same time wrapped up into one little Taco. She'd just be quiet and just staring at Mephone and in the littlest voice she's ever spoken in says she needs to be alone. Goes to leave, Mephone steps towards her and asks her to wait, because he does feel bad and wants to apologize, but Taco is so not ready for that. She's been trying to heal and be better after the events of the finale- but every single wound has been violently ripped open with new ones torn into her, and she just can't do it. She would give that sort of raw scream you can only give when you have so many feelings that they need to get out through your mouth and make it clear that she needs to be alone, now.
And then I think she would sob her little heart out. The messiest, most brutal breakdown you've ever seen. Panic attacks, scratching, shouting, sobbing, breaking things, you name it. They'd leave her be for a bit, but Mic would get worried hearing all the crashing, and go to check on her. Taco has destroyed whatever space she is in and is still sobbing and scratching and breaking down, and Mic gives her a hug. And Taco sobs more, but she's being held and she can squeeze Mic and cry into her shoulder. It's a bad day for everyone, all around. OJ is having a bad time too, but is taking it a lot better than Taco, and also this ain't about him. She has a lot of healing to be done from here, truly.
I'm going to stop here, because i think this answers your ask and i have been procrastinating on an assignment that i really do need to get done now, but I can talk more about this if anyone has questions or just wants to hear more!!!^^ please ask for more this is so so so much i love it so very much please i want to talk about it more please ask questions anything please please
#inanimate insanity#ii taco#taco ii#loomy's answers#inanimate insanity hc#ii mic#mic ii#tacomic#oj ii#ii oj#mephone ii#ii mephone#im gonna label this one because GAH this concept is everything to be i love it so much#anyways#i hereby dub this saga#built to win
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— SHE’D DO ANYTHING FOR ME
pairing: Imogen Kol (oc) x Bix Caleen rating: Mature words: 3.3k warnings: possessive behavior, codependency, fight and make up summary: tfw when your ex finds your taste in women extremely questionable
notes: this is another older-ish one that I feel compelled to post on its own.
Everything felt so... calm and peaceful. In the same way the sky looks before a storm. Imogen should be fleeing for her life or at the very least preparing herself for the inevitable destruction. But she didn't — she couldn't.
All she managed was to lie in bed beside the woman she fought so hard not to love. The warmth of her body half draped over Imogen's after a night of passion. It was such a simple thing, to have her beloved's head rest against her chest and feel their breaths as one, yet she could not recall ever feeling so content.
Destruction might just be worth it.
Bix trailed her fingertips along her bare collarbone which caused Imogen to smile. Her own caress lightly traveled up and down the mechanic's spine in aimless patterns. It even felt extraordinary to touch her just for the sake of it.
"I'm starting to believe you actually like waking up next to me," Bix said in a lighthearted tone.
"I have always desired this," Imogen admitted softly, tilting her head enough to nuzzle against hers.
"Meaning you've always been afraid of this."
Imogen tensed. The hard-wired urge to pull away and fiercely deny such an accusation threatened to overcome her, but there was no sense in refuting the truth any longer. Not from Bix. Gradually, the bounty hunter willed her muscles to ease. She wondered how long it would take to train these instincts out of her. "If we... truly commit to one another –"
Bix's fingers suddenly twitched into a fist against Imogen's skin. "If?"
"No," Imogen quickly corrected herself. "No more ifs. What I mean to say is... Well, I have a lot to learn."
"So do I. So does everyone," Bix stated matter-of-factly. She leaned up on her elbow and met the other woman's apprehensive expression. "You're here. You're trying. That's all that really matters to me."
A strand of dark hair dangled over the mechanic's cheek. Imogen reached out and delicately tucked it behind her ear. She took in the unobscured beauty of her beloved for a few prolonged beats, her thumb tracing some of those features that left her in awe.
"I am quite certain there is one thing in this galaxy that I would not be able to bear," Imogen muttered under her breath – almost to herself.
Bix moistened her lips as she inched closer. "And what's that?"
A rhythmic knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Along with a gruff voice that called out "Bix? It's me."
Imogen hoped her glare would burn right through the durasteel to strike Cassian down.
"Hang on!" Bix called back. With an exasperated sigh, she slumped down and hid her face in the crook of Imogen's neck for a beat before she forced herself up. At the sight of the bounty hunter's less than pleased expression, Bix said "Don't start anything. I’m not in the mood to deal with either of your shit today."
"He still draws breath, does he not? That is the extent of my manners," Imogen replied curtly as Bix hastily dressed herself. She, too, summoned a great effort to follow her out of bed and do the same. "Unless he wishes to apologize for aiming a blaster at my heart."
"You held your lightsaber at his throat."
"He drew on me first."
Bix rolled her eyes, though Imogen caught the upturn at the corner of her mouth before she turned towards the door. "Come in."
The both of them hadn't quite finished dressing. Cassian entered as Bix fastened the waistband of her pants at the same moment Imogen pulled a shirt over her head. He halted mid-step, his gaze shifting between the two women as if a complicated equation did not add up. Though, the scene before him must have been fairly obvious.
"What is it, Cass?" Bix impatiently urged.
"I just... wanted to talk to you." Cassian's answer came out distracted. His eyes lingered on the bounty hunter.
Imogen looked to Bix expectantly and received a nod. A part of her had hoped that she would have been allowed to remain in the room, but she understood why Bix dismissed her. Without another word, Imogen collected her coat in one hand and intended to make her exit when an impulse emerged. She would not have Cassian misinterpret anything here, not if she had any say in it.
In a few strides, Imogen went to Bix and pulled her in by the back of her neck. While their lips met with intention, it was no less soft or passionate than the kisses they shared in private. Imogen indulged in a few strokes and had to fight not to get lost in the sensations, nearly forgetting the witness she intended to show for.
Once Imogen pulled away, she gave Bix a parting caress and said "I will come find you later."
The mechanic had a knowing glint in her eye, but she nodded again. "Alright."
Cassian had not moved and the nature of his continued gaze turned from dumbfounded to outright suspicion. Imogen glared right back at him as she made her way towards the door. He stood far enough into the room that she could have easily maneuvered around him, but she instead shoved her shoulder into his as she walked past. Just to make sure her point came across clearly.
Cassian let it happen and she exited the room with an air of confidence.
Despite having been dismissed, Imogen’s curiosity compelled her to linger just outside the door. Cassian could be there to simply check up on his friend, or he could be there to stir up tension. Either way, Imogen didn’t trust his judgment or his motives and prepared to intervene if she must.
She leaned against the wall next to the door and shut her eyes to focus her hearing as best as she could past the thick durasteel wall. Through the Force, she could pinpoint each of their positions and the vibration of their voices became clear in her ears.
“I didn’t realize you two were back to your original arrangement,” Cassian said.
“We’re not,” Bix replied curtly.
“No? Then what was all that about?”
“We’re trying something different.”
Cassian scoffed. “Different. With her?”
“Yeah. With her,” Bix asserted and Imogen sensed that she placed her hands on her hips as irritation began to swell in the mechanic’s chest.
“Alright then.”
“Look, did you just come in here to rag on my personal life choices or was there actually a point to this conversation?”
“I’m not ragging,” he insisted, shrugging his shoulders defensively. “I just – I don’t get it.”
“Well, you sound pretty judgmental. Which is rich coming from you, Cass.”
“At least I haven’t slept with an Imperial Inquisitor.”
“She’d do anything for me.”
Cassian did not try to hide his disdain. “Where have I heard that before?”
“Imogen is not Timm,” Bix snapped.
Under normal circumstances, Imogen would never allow anyone to come to her defense. All that mattered was that she had enough power to stand up for herself. And yet… she realized that no one ever has spoken up for her in any capacity. The utter conviction in Bix’s statement filled her with an unexpected swell of pride.
“No,” Cassian agreed patronizingly. “Timm never waved a red laser sword in anyone’s face.”
The jab only seemed to antagonize the mechanic more. “What is your problem?”
The two of them struggled to keep their tones leveled, but as tensions grew, so did their volume. Even in an enclosed space, their disagreement would certainly be heard by anyone that walked by. Imogen didn’t even have to hold her focus through the Force to hear them clearly any longer. Cassian must not have cared because he knew many others held the same prejudices against Imogen that he did. Bix clearly had no issue voicing her opposite opinion.
Imogen loved her for it.
“I don’t know, I just,” he stammered over his argument once again and sighed. “I think there are better options out there –”
“What, like you?”
“Come on, you know that isn’t what I’m trying to say.”
“Then what are you trying to say? Explain it to me.”
Imogen’s patience for eavesdropping wore thin and the discomfort she sensed in Bix only made her own anger rise. The bounty hunter pushed away from the wall and took an assertive step towards the room, fully intending to assure Cassian of her permanence at Bix’s side, but his next words made her hesitate.
“I’m worried for you, being with someone like that,” he said earnestly
There was a pause. Bix did not abandon her stern tone, but Imogen heard it soften ever so slightly as she responded. “She won’t do anything that I don’t ask her to do.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m worried about.”
“Oh, so you’re afraid of me now, too?”
“I’m afraid of how she’ll change you.”
Another tense beat of silence passed between the two of them. Imogen absorbed Cassian’s words and they left a bitter taste on her mouth. He sounded like Cal, making it seem as if darkness only corrupted. Darkness could bring strength. Darkness could bring power. Imogen would not change Bix, Bix would change herself into whatever she needed to be. That is what Cassian truly feared, whether he realized it or not.
“I’ve already changed. And Imogen had nothing to do with it. So do us both a favor and mind your fucking business from now on,” Bix said firmly.
The mechanical door suddenly slid open and Bix came into view as she stormed away from the conversation, coming up short once she spotted Imogen. Her eyes widened slightly and she quickly glanced behind her, but Cassian hadn’t made his retreat from the room yet.
“Are you alright?” Imogen asked. The urge to confront Cassian herself remained, though she doubted any of her intentions towards him would improve his reservations about her.
Bix continued to briskly walk away, reaching out for Imogen’s waist to usher them along — or more likely move her as far away from Cassian as they could get in order to avoid a possible blood feud. “How much of that did you hear?”
“All of it,” Imogen casually admitted.
“Don’t let it get to you, alright?” Bix rubbed her hand up and down Imogen’s back. Whether her intentions were to pacify herself or the dangerous woman next to her, it was difficult to say. Imogen still accepted her touch.
“While he made a fool of himself… some of his concerns are not entirely unfounded,” she said slowly.
Bix shot her a deeply confused look. “Are you saying you care what Cassian thinks?”
“No,” Imogen replied with a scoff. “I simply mean that he harbors the same judgments everyone else holds against me. I have accepted them long ago and so should you, lest that scowl overstays its welcome.”
The mechanic shook her head bitterly, ignoring Imogen’s attempt to lighten her mood. “They just don’t know you.”
“And they never will. Not like you do.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Bix pointed out as she came to a stop in a secluded corner of the hallway. “All he sees is the Inquisitor.”
Imogen tried not to roll her eyes. “I have nothing to prove to him or anyone else. Why should I waste my time with such an endeavor? Especially when they are not wrong.”
“They are wrong.”
“No, they aren’t. Not about me. Not about us.” Imogen placed her hands on Bix’s arms. Her caress had a sort of melancholy that lingered in the small smile across her lips. “I do not believe I am the best option for you, but I will be yours for as long as you’ll have me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bix asked incredulously and shook off her touch.
Imogen felt a tightness at the back of her throat. She moistened her lips and swallowed with difficulty, her voice hollow. “Have you considered that your feelings for me might be influenced by gratitude? By the simple fact that I got to you first on Ferrix? Would it not be Cassian’s embrace you’d wish to fall into every night had it been him?”
It deeply pained Imogen to voice an insecurity that she had failed to bury. The way Bix had looked at her differently since Ferrix filled Imogen with a warmth that she had never experienced before, but she could not shake the whisper at the back of her mind that gradually became another scream in the cacophony. A part of her did not care if it was true, she would be grateful to have Bix in any capacity. But the much larger part that truly loved her felt she needed to hear those words.
An intense and furious expression twisted Bix’s features as her body stiffened. She fixed Imogen with such a hard look that the bounty hunter nearly took a step back.
“Fuck you,” Bix said with a shocking amount of venom. Imogen realized her grave mistake, then, and it felt like a harsh slap to the face. “And fuck what you’re insinuating.”
“Bix–”
“And I’ll tell you why you’re wrong,” she continued fiercely and took an assertive step towards Imogen, entering her space. It wasn’t until that moment that Imogen noticed she had, in fact, backed away. “What I feel for you was there before all of this. So, despite what you might think of me, I won’t just fall for the first fucking person who comes to my rescue!”
Imogen’s gaze became downcast in shame before she responded softly “Forgive me. I misspoke.”
“You sure did,” Bix snarled bitterly. She turned to walk away and Imogen felt conflicted on whether or not she should follow.
She refrained from pursuit, but she couldn’t help calling out after her. “You know I don’t truly think that.”
Bix hesitated. Some of the tension dispersed from her shoulders as she released a weary sigh and glanced back. “You still don’t believe that I can love you for you. I thought we were past this, Imogen.”
“I do not doubt you.”
“Some part of you does.”
“Maybe… But I swear not to give voice to those thoughts ever again.” She dared a step towards the mechanic.
Bix held up a hand to stop her. “Look, first it was Cassian and now it’s you, just… give me some time, okay?”
Imogen hated Cassian. And she wasn’t particularly fond of herself at the moment, either. She conceded. “Of course.”
As she watched Bix walk away, Imogen felt the invisible tether between them tighten. Disbelief filled the pit of embarrassment in her gut as she tried to make sense of what just happened. She knew better. Imogen knew better and still she plucked out the most absurd thought from the back of her mind and spoke it out loud like a witless scoundrel. If her utter foolishness is what finally made the tether snap, she would never forgive herself.
Hours passed and Imogen kept herself scarce until evening approached and she could sequester herself to the comfort of her own ship. Though, The Huntress felt far colder and emptier than it ever has before.
Imogen ate a quick supper and prepared for bed early. As she settled into the cot, silence sounded more unbearable than a cacophony of tangled voices. The longer she stewed in the memory of her own foolish words, the more Imogen felt like she could hear the shouting of those imaginary voices at the back of her mind. Some sounded like her own voice. Others sounded like her Master. They sounded like Vader. They sounded like Cal.
They sounded like Bix.
After a while — or an eternity — Imogen groaned and sat up in the cot, swinging her legs over the side and contemplating numerous methods to get her brain to shut off. All felt fruitless.
Then she sensed a familiar presence approach, making her spine perk up like an alert animal.
The entrance to The Huntress whooshed open and Bix trudged in, looking as exhausted and dejected as Imogen felt. The bounty hunter couldn’t deny the immediate feeling of serenity at the sight of her lover, but she still gripped the edge of the cot and half expected another round of disciplining.
The mechanic came to a stop before her and crossed her arms, appearing less stern than earlier, but Imogen still noted the twitch of her jaw. They simply breathed in the tense air for a few long beats until she finally spoke.
“You didn’t come to bed.” Bix tried to hide it, but she sounded hurt.
“You asked for time,” Imogen replied pointedly.
The mechanic sighed as she stared down at the floor and shook her head. “I didn’t mean the whole night, I’m sorry.”
“You should not apologize.”
“I want to,” Bix insisted as she stepped closer to the cot. Her fingers twitched in a subtle fidget at her sides. “What you said earlier –”
“Was careless.”
“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Yeah, it was. But I know you didn’t mean it that way. I’ve been thinking about it and you’re not entirely wrong. Well, you are when it comes to Cassian, but about gratitude...” Bix’s shoulders lifted as she took in a deep breath, her gaze shifting over the interior of the ship that she knew as well as her own home back on Ferrix. “I’ve always wanted to be near you, but after everything you’ve done for me, it feels less like a want and more like a need. I don’t know, but I start to lose my mind a little bit when you’re gone. Even with how upset I was earlier, a part of me still hoped you’d come after me.”
Imogen took a quiet moment to contemplate the confession. She understood Bix’s words because she had seen the evidence. All that she missed was the true extent of her suspicion. But before Imogen allowed her emotions to settle, she offered one single question.
“Does that bother you?”
“No,” Bix answered confidently and closed the distance between them. She reached out and took a strand of Imogen’s hair between her fingers. “Does it bother you?”
It should, her thoughts responded immediately without voicing it. Imogen recognized this attachment had grown to an intensity Bix did not have full control over. She recognized it because it was the same attachment she had within herself. As if Bix were a vital organ her body would not survive without.
Could Imogen’s devotion still be pure in that case? Did it matter? It certainly did not feel like it did when her beloved gazed down at her with a mixture of adoration and concern.
“No,” Imogen said and accepted that for all it could possibly mean.
A small smile of relief brightened the mechanic’s features. “Good,” she said. Bix placed her hands on Imogen’s shoulders and pulled herself down onto the bounty hunter’s lap. “Because I’m done arguing with people about loving you.”
Imogen’s arms automatically wrapped around Bix’s waist to keep her close. She grew weary of the discourse as well, but she did not wish to see Bix angry with those she held dear – no matter how much Imogen detested them. “They argue because they care.”
“I know.” Bix leaned in until their foreheads touched, her hands coming up to rest against Imogen’s cheeks. “But they should see how you make me feel.”
Imogen felt her face flush with a warm grin at that. “You were right earlier.”
“About what?”
Their lips brushed together. Chaste at first. More of an innocent expression of her fondness. Then Imogen tightened her grip around the woman in her embrace as she deepened the kiss. Many emotions were conveyed in the cadence she led. Her kiss was possessive as she lightly nipped at Bix’s lower lip. It was passionate as the tip of her tongue greeted hers. It was desperate as short breaths escaped their lungs and tickled their skin. It was everything.
Imogen finally pulled back, but only the smallest amount to utter her answer. “I would do anything for you.”
tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @socially-awkward-skeleton @neonshrike @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @florbelles @adelaidedrubman @simonxriley @tommyarashikage @buggknife @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @d-esmond @loriane-elmuerto @shellibisshe @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @strangefable @statichvm @sevikagf @cptcassian @hexmaturgy @auricfog @confidentandgood @e-the-village-cryptid @raresvtm @minaharkers
#oc insp: imogen kol#ship insp: if i had a heart#prompts: if I had a heart#bix caleen#I love writing Imogen having beef with men tbh#I’d say Imogen and Cassian may develop a bit of a frenemy dynamic similar to Cal but she would never view Cass on the same level as Cal#in her mind Cassian is extra lame because he can’t even move things with his mind so why would she bother having fun w him#nah. Cal is the only Tom to her Jerry. unfortunately for him.#she’ll just begrudgingly accept that Cass is important to Bix#and try to be satisfied with her fantasies about killing him since he's off limits#sorry for reposting old writing. feel free to ignore for those that have already read parts of this#I'm mostly trying to organize my writing a little more/preserving the stuff I do like before it gets altered in the final fic
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I already made my predictions here on the epilogue, but I want to focus on the Yuko Ozawa part since I know some shippers are in panic about it.
Everything I'm about to say is from the POV of someone who did read MHA and been though 431 and someone who does ship ItaFushi. Do I think anyone should agree with me? No. But what I hope what I'm about to say at least ease your panic for the time being.
With that out the way!
Now, I'll reiterate from my other post.
If I were to guess what Yuko's part will be about, I think she may meet Yuji again. It makes sense. However, Gege being unpredictable, I feel like he may not go about making it something "romantic".
If anything, I think he may go the route as to what happened with Hana and Megumi. It's not going anywhere.
A piece of me feels like with this epilogue Yuji and Yuko will have a heart to heart, but Yuko comes out having a new revelation about herself which is to love herself.
If there's one thing about some of the female cast of JJK is that they're unapologetic themselves.
Nobara and Maki are the biggest examples of this. Other examples are Yuki and Uro. Yorozu even is an example as she didn't care what people thought of her.
Miwa may have a little ship tease with Muta, but even that doesn't stop her of being herself. When we do get a bit of her "hiding" herself, it wasn't for a boy. It was because her mother told her to dye her hair black (as it is naturally blue).
Maybe Yuko could get that treatment here and that's why she was chosen. To give closure to her character that allows her to move on.
Again, Gege is unpredictable. I have a feeling that the reveals of the epilogue was to give fans a heads-up and... what is the word I want to use... I can't exactly explain it, but maybe make fans feel like they're getting this possible romance as a "red herring" as to hide that "Actually, no, none of that here".
Think about what happened to Hana (who is no different than Yuko) and Megumi. Most of the story, she was spent crushing on Megumi but that went nowhere.
Thinking about it, when it comes to F/M relationships here, it really doesn't go anywhere romantically.
Miwa and Muta? Muta is dead.
Got a bit of ship tease with Yuki and Choso and guess what? They're both dead.
Nobara deadass states she would never date Yuji (and I'm sure this extends to Megumi, too).
Shoko says Hell would freeze over before she fell in love with either Gojo or Geto. And those two are dead and happy together in the afterlife. 👀
As I mentioned Hana's crush on Megumi? Girl, might as well move on.
Utahime straight up doesn't like Gojo and he's dead now.
Yuta had that childhood romance with Rika and she died and whatever he has with Maki isn't really canon. They're just friends.
Yorozu had a thing for Sukuna, but he was not feeling her at all. And they're both dead now, so...??
See the pattern here? Wouldn't it be odd for Gege to give Yuko and Yuji something explicitly romantic when they haven't done much before?
Out of the four characters, Yuko is one of the most background of background characters (I say that will love before someone comes for me). Nobara, Uraume and Panda all have some involvement with the more active parts of the story. Much like Fumi and Saori was to Nobara and Tsumiki is to Megumi, she was a character part of Yuji's story.
However, what did those other characters have that she didn't?
A close relationship. You know who else was like this to Yuji?
Rin Amai. "But Kiya, he didn't--" Ah! Rin was also someone from Yuji's past that also was affected by Yuji's presence in some way. And he managed to get some bit of closure to his character. He gets this in 270. Rin apologizes to the kid he didn't stand up for and allowed bullies to harass. Despite not getting forgiveness, he still was able to apologize, accept what is done and move on.
Yuko may get this. Last time, she didn't tell Yuji her feelings because she didn't want him to like her for her looks. That's a regret and one time about JJK characters is they don't want to live with regrets. With Yuko, she may need to tell Yuji her feelings so that she can move on from that regret and focus on being her most unapologetic self.
I don't know Gege personally, but I do feel that this could be the case and honestly, I do hope that it is. It would be good for her and yeah, I don't really feel threatened by her presence. I'm going to still ship ItaFushi so...
#i know with gege and horikoshi being buddy buddy people are in panic gege may follow#but 431 ended with a DAP UP! BETWEEN A GUY AND A GIRL! like really think about that#i would not be surprised if that's the case with Yuji and Yuko#they dab up and be like 'alright have a nice life'#just kiya's thoughts#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk spoilers#jjk manga spoilers#itafushi#fushiita#itadori yuji#yuji itadori#ozawa yuko#yuko ozawa#meguyuji
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2, 7, 18 for kabru plz 🥺
i will apologize in advance i got like 5 of the most inconsistent hours of sleep so i dont know if i even make sense. More than i usually dont know LOL
2: favorite canon thing about this character
tldr: his trauma complexes and the way that drives his character
obligatory "autism" answer to be honest. no but in all seriousness kui is really really good at portraying people in accordance to their trauma/background and kabru is no different... being intimately familiar (married) to someone with ptsd, it makes kabru hit home in a lot of ways. i LOVE that he comes off as creepy to those that are close to him! i love his dissociative symptoms and his panicking. ive been doing (loose spare time) research on the correlations/potential causations of personality disorders and other trauma complexes (dissociative identity, ptsd, sometimes ocd, etc etc etc) that can arise specifically from the way people who are neurodivergent from birth are treated by others. i love the clear line from utaya (caused kabrus ptsd), his adoption (perfect circumstance for a knowledge seeker), his special interest, and his cluster b tendencies ("i have to mask, lie, or otherwise be dishonest to meet my physical/psychological needs. i have to yell to be heard by myself and others."). i think you can see from the way he reacts to going to milsirils family reunion that his interest in people isnt solely due to trauma-- that gathering has nothing to do with taking down dungeons. but it takes that path because the hole caused by kabrus trauma is a need that milsiril cant fulfill. so he has to do it himself. it is uniquely traumatizing to suffer from survivors guilt, specifically. HES JUST SO COOL!!!! <3 <3
of course im not saying like. Kabru Specifically Being Diagnosed With PTSD Is Canon because the term ptsd is a collection of traits that weve lumped together with one term that typically responds to the same set of treatment, but trauma is universal and ptsd is excellent shorthand for kabrus trauma responses!
7: something the fandom does with this character that you like
i love when he isnt portrayed as Knowing Everything. i love when hes portrayed like a little bit of a dumbass sometimes. i also really love the way a lot of people portray his dynamic with laios, especially when its kabru getting to experience his emotions in a relatively stable environment and laios is there to support him. ALSO i love that Kabru Marcille Friendship seems to be agreed upon
18: relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire
... i Mean. i dont mean to be TOO obvious but his relationship with laios... ouuughhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! FUN FACT! exposure therapy is actually like. HIGHLY effective for people with obsessive-compulsions, phobias, or other aversions!! this is not due to the simple fact of being exposed to it, however. kabru retraumatizes himself this way-- he risks his life for the uncontrolled exposure to the familiarity of his trauma. a big motivator for him is his survivors guilt. this isnt exposure therapy, its just exposure.
what makes exposure therapy effective is understanding. its understanding you wont get every disease if you dont wash your hands when youre compelled to, understanding not all spiders are dangerous and that we have an evolutionary fear response.
kabru is bad at recognizing his needs. he chases the need to understand monsters by resolving to adventure dungeons. he makes this decision as a kid. its like he knows he needs to understand monsters on some level, but no one else sees monsters as complex beings, no one gives the time of day to understanding them. so instead he interprets this motivation solely as a desire to end monsters and dungeons. upon his observation of laios though, seeing someone who doesnt act like everyone else, who is a really good leader regarding progress in the dungeon, its like he subconsciously chases his need to understand, while consciously seeing laios as concerning.
all this to say, i admire so much that laios can provide kabru a safe, human place to understand monsters, when hes ready. laios can expose him to the monstrous while preventing reckless, unprepared exposure. this story is so damn cool through my psychology special interest goggles lol...
honorary mentions: his relationship with rin. i admire rin, because dear fuck how do you make it through what she did and still speak at all let alone leave your room?? and their relationship i admire not because its crazy healthy or good for either of them but because it is a testament to their strength as people. i dont remember rn if any of their interactions as kids are shown but i presume kabru was just insanely kind and patient. you have to be to befriend someone so traumatized. their relationship kills me, because they clearly have a deep respect for each other, but rin probably has more emotional problems than kabru does regarding forging relationships. gwohhhh...
lastly, i like his minor relationship with toshiro lol its interesting how they seem to gravitate to each other if theyre both in a scene! and i really enjoy when kabru brutally talks sense into toshiro regarding falins revival. obviously, they dont have much interaction to go off of, but i like to think the combo of kabru being able to empathize so strongly with toshiro AND be honest about the situation at the same time are probably pretty refreshing for him, where he typically either gets minimal empathy and intense honesty from laios, or intense cognitive empathy-driven assumptions about what he wants or needs or how to interact with him. having someone who is genuinely adept at the mask and cognitive empathy out of his own choice, rather than social pressure, but also isnt scared to say it like it is... well itd do toshiro some good if they stay friends post canon imo!
#i like seeing this kind of stuff in maintags so ill put it there for anyone else i slurmpose#(suppose)#kabru of utaya#laios touden#rinsha fana#toshiro nakamoto#dungeon meshi#and me personal ones#laios#kabru#rin#shuro
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