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scintillatingshortgirl19 · 3 years ago

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Loki’s Line About Betraying Everyone

I need to talk about this line (spoiler: I’m not happy about it). I was going to just include this in the full episode response post I’m working on, but it got long enough that I decided to make it its own.

First of all, here’s the full quote: "I betrayed everyone who ever loved me. I betrayed my father, my brother, my home. I know what I did. And I know why I did it. And that's not who I am anymore."

Y'all, I'm less emotional about it now but this line fucked me up when I first heard it. It hit me like a ton of bricks while watching the episode for the first time because I was actually doing fine and wasn't significantly bothered by anything up until that point, and then came that line and I suddenly almost felt physically ill. I actually wrote up a post about it that night but never posted it because it was essentially just a lot of screaming, so I've now taken pieces of that and formed a hopefully more coherent post (though it still contains a good amount of screaming). So, I get that the idea that Loki’s betrayed Thor over and over is a Commonly Accepted Thing. It's really a lot more complicated than that, and there are a lot of gray areas involved, but fine, I'll give them that one. But - when did Loki betray his father? When did Loki betray his home?? I’m not just mad about it, this is...a legitimate question. I mean with the father thing, I guess the only thing could be the nursing home in Ragnarok/taking the throne from him? Which is irrelevant anyway because this Loki didn’t do that and doesn't even know it happened in the main timeline?? And besides, it PALES, like, hilariously, in comparison to any one of multiple things Odin did to him before that (not counting any fanon here - just the canon things that we know of!) I am just so confused, especially about the betraying Asgard thing. WHEN? LITERALLY WHEN? Guys, there is no film in which that took place.

If I trusted the narrative, I would say the most logical thing to conclude - at least about the betraying Asgard part - is that this is a setup for Loki to later realize he actually saved Asgard by causing Ragnarok (because that's the closest thing I can think of to "betraying his home"), which could even tie into something about, idk, helping him realize he’s capable of being a hero? (or something) and it would be a good follow-up to the moment he found out about Ragnarok in episode 2, but...fuck, the way these lines were framed it really doesn't feel like anything like that is going to happen. I could be wrong, but these just didn't strike me as lines that are at any point going to be contradicted or even revisited.

And moving onto another part of the quote - "I know why I did it." Uh, I guess good for Loki for apparently knowing that...but the audience sure doesn't?? This is something we're just now being told and have not been shown at all?? I have a feeling Loki thinks he knows why but it unfortunately doesn't have anything to do with some of the biggest actual reasons, which are the abuses done to him that helped make him who he is. Even more unfortunately, I also have a feeling the creators are on roughly the same page as Loki here. So yeah, that's a real shame.

The core problem here seems to be where the writers are coming from, and @iamanartichoke worded it really well here, so I’m just going to quote her: “either the writing is being lazy by oversimplifying Loki’s motives, or it’s being deliberately misleading in order to retcon the character, or the writers genuinely believe that’s what happened, which implies a misunderstanding of Loki’s character kinda from the get-go - at least on what drives his villainy and what fuels his anger, which are pretty significant things.” I do think there’s a slight chance they were using Loki as an unreliable narrator here and the audience was supposed to pick up on the subtext (more on that at the end of this post), but I doubt it, and I think it’s very likely one or more of the options listed in the quote.

Honestly, I can explain Loki's line about betrayal (and his general lack of acknowledgement of his own trauma/legit grievances against his family) pretty easily in-universe. It makes sense that Loki himself would frame things as him betraying everyone who's ever loved him as if they never did anything to wrong him first, or that he would try to ignore what Thanos did to him in favor of putting all the blame on himself (coping with his trauma and loss of control by denying it). Or hell, maybe he would even straight up subconsciously invent a betrayal that never even happened, like the one about his home. I can totally understand Loki seeing the events of his life that way! That all lines up with his complete lack of self-worth, and to have him 1) recognize his mistakes and take responsibility for them (which has happened at this point in the show), but then progress on to 2) realize he isn't solely to blame for literally everything, and 3) recognize the role of his family and others in understanding why he is the way he is - that would be a very satisfying arc and is the natural direction that the story should take in episode 6. The problem is, I don't think the show is going that way. I think we're either supposed to take it at face value that Loki did in fact betray everybody who ever loved him (as if Loki is a reliable narrator when he's most certainly an unreliable one), or the audience is supposed to figure out that Loki's an unreliable narrator here - but the latter won't work, because the creators have to follow through on that subtext at some point and actually do something to indicate that what Loki said wasn't 100% true, and it doesn't feel like they're going to. You can't expect your audience to put any weight on subtext or even pick up on it in the first place if you never actually confirm anything, and your audience won't know your narrator is unreliable unless you tell them. If Loki being an unreliable narrator in that specific moment was their intention, only a small subset of fans are going to pick up on it. So the way they're framing it so far, the audience is simply going to see it the same way Loki does and not realize it's incorrect.

Unfortunately, as stated earlier, I think the most likely explanation is that the writers either don’t understand Loki, are being lazy, or are deliberately retconning. So while I take a degree of comfort in the in-universe explanation, it’s pretty damn infuriating to consider where the writer’s minds were probably at in reality, and how this set of lines is presenting Loki to the casual audience.

Tagging @iamanartichoke and @delyth88 if you guys have any thoughts?

#loki series negativity #loki spoilers #loki tv series #loki meta #loki series speculation #kind of #journey into mystery

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grimoireofwritings · 4 years ago

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Hi! Could i get a nsfw scenario where William masturbates for one night thinking about his fem s/o?

.......

So here's me, casually appearing randomly from the void to finally post this months later 0_0

I'm so sorry y'all, mental health has been in the gutter lately and suffering from major heart and brain damage at age 21 is just not a fun gig. Nonetheless, I hope this was worth the wait, you thirsty hoes >.<

Warnings: smut, light femdom ( I headcanon William with a lean towards sub )

Scenario: William's female s/o walks in on him jerking off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guilt.

It was all William could really feel in that moment. Well, aside from a general, looming sensation that had been plaguing the poor gentleman for a while now. It made his stomach all fluttery and nauseous with two completely contradicting urges... Which didn't result in a good state to rest in, as he lay propped up on his simple bedroom mattress. It had even prevented him from getting proper sleep lately. One such part of the equation was his complete and utter shame, which replayed punishing thoughts in his mind on repeat... Mentally battling with himself on how wrong it was to think such filthy things about a woman so pure and angelic. A body like that, he could easily imagine it sculpted from marble like the most honored and beautiful of Goddesses in ancient times. Every curve, and the warmth of that soft skin that he could dream of... How could he ever imagine desecrating it? Dirtying it, and perhaps staining it with his intent?

Apparently he could, and he did... Quite frequently. Such horrendously ungentlemanly thoughts popping into his mind had him mortified with himself.

For this reason, he kept his uncontrollably growing desires a secret from his partner. It seemed to him that she was comfortable with their current level of intimacy in their relationship, therefore.. he would remain quiet and allow her to call the shots. It had always been this way, with him considering himself lucky to have her in his life at all, what with a face like his... As well as his history. So he kept quiet, allowing her to make all the first moves so as to not make her uncomfortable. Despite the longing and craving he had for her, and the shame it brought him, he would suppress every last desire, and would never utter a word or clue about it.

It was getting harder however, every passing day. More and more challenging not to notice the lump in his throat when he had to refrain from staring at certain parts of her in particular outfits, and keep his hands from wandering over the perfectly smooth plains of her thighs, or even passionately gripping on to those breasts that took his breath away.

He gave a slight audible whine, there in his bed, tortured by these thoughts popping up once again.. because once they started, they couldn't stop. This time around for some reason it was particularly agonizing to ignore the growing need in his pajama pants, which was legitimately painful to disregard at this point. He'd end up sweating, palms gripping on to the sheets, as he refused to touch himself to the thought of her. Absolutely not... Never.. he could never be so degrading and perverted towards someone who deserved only the highest respect.

Even as he told himself this for the millionth time, the words had been losing their influence that week, and it was at that moment that he caved, giving a strangled whimper of regret whilst his right hand crept under his waistband. From that point on his vision went blurred and brimmed with red, framing pictures in his mind that could only consist of her.

And goodness was that woman breathtaking. He somehow felt starved for a touch he'd never quite experienced before with her... A deep craving as he could practically feel those lips of hers, divine and smooth like rose petals, grazing over his sensitive neck. Would she perhaps moan his name out softly into his ear, as his hands wrapped around her rear to slip a finger between her wetted and ready slit? Yes... Not only could William picture it, but he could almost feel it, too.

Hands, on her velvet skin, squeezing and caressing here and there.. her labored breaths brushing past his cheeks. By this point William had thoughtlessly worked up the courage to start stroking himself, his movements terrified and shaky, slow but gradual. The tortured man could not help himself.. he really couldn't. Despite the fact that he felt like an atrocious person, that previously sick feeling in his stomach was being replaced by mind splitting pleasure.

Warmth.. so much warmth he was feeling down there, in fact it was warm enough now that it was exactly what he imagined her hot, inviting mouth would feel like. This time he let out a soft but much more discernable moan, a couple of lost syllables and stutters rolling off of his lips as he imagined her tongue massaging in place of where his fingers currently were. He vaguely had a couple of thoughts warning him he should stop soon... She'd be back in their shared room any moment now, after finishing up her nightly chores around the headquarters. But he was way too far gone, and foggy in the brain, to give a damn and have the self control to even do so.

Not to mention, the slightest surfacing of precum wasn't helping, given that it added a slight lubricant to the situation and really solidified the illusion in his mind he'd created for himself. His greatest fantasy would be to have her ride him, perhaps..

Absolutely. Just her, in all of her glory, above him and in her rightful place where he could worship and adore from below. The image alone of her hair framing an expression of ecstacy like a curtain, eyes hazy with pleasure all because of him, whilst he allowed his hands to boundlessly wander over every surface of her divinity.. maybe his lips would latch on to her skin and travel down to a breast, all the while drowning in her sounds.. it was enough to drive him mad in the most beautiful way possible.

By that point, poor William Vangeance was too far gone to even notice the barely audible creaking of the door whilst his girlfriend stepped inside their now shared room. A slur of pathetic, whiney mumblings and moans were leaking out into the air for her to hear in utter shock, as well as her name whispered breathlessly to confirm that he was, in fact, masturbating while thinking of her.

"William? What are you doing?"

It was about as sudden as flipping off a light switch. Light to dark in an instant.. except this time it was his voice and his movements. In the dim room, the only light source being a small candle which cast an orange glow on his face, she could make out a look of complete panic, his entire frame completely paralyzed in his position. Had he gone catatonic?

While she had found the display amusing, she was now distracted, more worried about him than anything else. "Love? Are you alright? This isn't very expected of you.." she trailed off, but before she could finish, William snapped out of his trance, causing her to gasp and glance up at the unexpected tone of his voice.

The poor man could hardly form any coherent words in his next jumbled sentences, sometimes the only noticable parts being things like "I'm so sorry for-" and "I will get my things and go out to the front room couch for the night-" to which his partner was dumbfounded by his amount of panic. In fact, William looked to be on the verge of tears, utterly destraught, much to his partner's worry and dismay. However.. she figured she could easily fix this.

Sauntering over to him, she sat beside him on the bed, placing a finger to his lips in an instant to hush him. Leaning forward to speak directly to him, she could tell he thought he was in for a scolding, but what came next had his jaw practically hanging from its hinges in a gape.

"Touching yourself without me here to take care of your needs? You've got some nerve doing my job for me, Captain William Vangeance. I was surprised you hadn't asked me sooner for favors quite like the ones you were probably just imagining.. but now that I know you've been naughty and doing this in your own time, don't expect any mercy from me tonight. I'll prove to you why I'm far more efficient than your right hand. And I'd better not see this again."

She gave a cheeky smirk, completely digging that expression he was wearing. He 100% never would have guessed such lewd words could ever come out of her, and honestly, it already had his entire body lighting up with heat. That confidence from her.. the domineering and sexy edge to her lips, curled into a dark sneer.. it was all blindingly amplified the moment she straddled over him, looming over his body to speak in a low tone towards his ear. "Are you prepared for me to devour you?" She asked.

This was really doing it for him, and he caved, his pent up desire mixing with his excitement and impatience of the moment... Unable to handle the anticipation. As a result, he resumed, feeling already quite close to an orgasm as he frantically jacked himself off with her weight and presence above him. He just... Couldn't wait anymore. And she was too dazzling, too seductive, much too hypnotizing with those devilish words.

"You have the audacity to continue right after what I just said? Bold move, Captain. Either I underestimated you or you're fucking desperate for me. Which one is it? Care to share with me? If you do, perhaps I will let you off the hook... A bit."

"Y-y/n... P-please! L-let me-"

His begs and pleas were interrupted by a deafening, breathless, gasping cry as he came on the spot, a few whimpers following in a perfect sequence as the white hot pleasure seized violent hold of his body, almost aggressive in nature after having been repressed for so long. Panting, he watched his partner witness his helpless and needy state, almost amplifying the experience to a degree.

She was dead quiet, watching with sharp eyes and an intensity in her stare as he slowly came down from the high, body naturally going limp with exhaustion and his breathing evening out. He chuckled sheepishly then, eyeing her with a noticable hint of anticipation and excitement in his gaze, slightly curious if she'd follow through with her previous promise. "B-better to ask forgiveness than p-permission, right?" He tried meekly, biting his lip at that irresistible smirk returning to her face.

"Incorrect" she stated, which set his nerves aflame yet again.

"See... You're the one who wanted me so bad, aren't you? I honestly had no idea... Especially with how shy you are, I was waiting, but it seems you've made me wait longer than necessary. Not to mention, after directly disobeying me, you owe me a couple rounds. Understood? You'll bear with it like a good boy... And I'll be sure you enjoy it too."

There.. that softer look in her eyes at that last statement, despite how perfectly and wonderfully dominant she was - it made his heart melt. William found it very comforting that he didn't have to take charge right away and that she was naturally the one in charge in such an environment - he spent so much time worrying, being afraid, stressing, overthinking, and telling people what to do... That giving up control to someone he trusted was just a complete relief.

"Yes ma'am," he stated, having gained back some composure. "I'll do my best to endure whatever my goddess intends to give me.. please allow me to touch and praise you."

"Good boy," she cooed, encouraging his words of loyalty, as she slowly lowered herself to gently and sensually take him into her mouth to start off. Almost immediately, a tortured cry of overstimulation escaped him, but at the same time it felt completely euphoric.

It occured to William that one of the best nights of his life was about to take place, so he closed his eyes, and placed a hand down on the head bobbing over him.

~end~

#william vangeance #black clover #golden dawn #request #black clover imagines #black clover scenario #scenario

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arhvste · 4 years ago

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Okay bear with me but may I request scenarios where kuroo, bokuto, and atsumu are doing the “He got all the drugs and I got all the guns” tik tok trend with their s/o (separately) and like they are wearing the whole shebang heels, dresses, crop tops, makeup, wigs ,etc that’s only if you want to of course n e ways have an awesome day🤩

OMG ARE U A MIND READER I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS AND SPECIFICALLY THESE BOYS DOING THIS TREND FOR WEEKS 🤯

just in case you didn’t know i’m referencing this trend 😼

KUROO, BOKUTO AND ATSUMU DOING THE FAMOUS (I’M THE ONE) TIKTOK TREND WITH THEIR S/O

KUROO

when you first show him the trend on tiktok he just laughs

then you suggest the two of you doing it and he goes quiet

he’s really thinking about it

he secretly is more than happy to do it with you

but he’ll find out how far he can tease you first

“and what do i get out of doing this?”

“spending quality time with the love of your life duh”

“it’s gonna take a bigger reward than that for the expense of me making a fool of myself online princess”

“PS5?”

then he’s like 👀

he wasn't expecting an actual good reward but if that’s what you’re willing to do for it

he won’t actually make you buy one for him don't worry

he’s just amused that you’re that adamant about doing it

he will absolutely let you pick out what clothes of his you want to wear

you’ll pick out what he wears from your wardrobe though because he is not about to stretch your cute clothes with his big body

you end up giving him an elasticated crop top and some loose baggy sweatpants

he will 100% let you do his make up and hold accessories

he is stunning with a natural make up look

a pretty highlight to his cheekbones, bridge and tip of his nose, inner corners of the eye and brow bone

light pink blush on his cheeks and nose

slim eyeliner and a light pink natural lip colour

he actually suggested wearing super obnoxious fake eyelashes

“i am NOT having you look like a tacky abg kuroo”

“but then we can say you’re a kevin nguyen, it fits”

‘nO!!”

to finish the look he’s holding a white clutch bag of yours

he almost looks seductive 👁👅👁

he actually looks so good in your outfit

“i think i pull this off better than you”

you’re wearing some training shorts, one of his favourite t shirts and a black nike cap

so you set your phone up and the music starts to play

immediately you two are in fits of giggles though

it takes you two approximately 8 attempts to finally get it right

and when you watch it back you’re in for a shock

kuroo can throw it BACK

he doesn’t even have a particularly noticeable ass

like he has one but it’s nothing like bokuto’s

but when he throws it back his ass is thicccccc

even he’s surprised at how well he pulls it off

he pulls the whole routine off

from the way his hips seductively sway, the pure sass in his walk as he struts into the camera frame and the way he rolls his body

honestly you think he makes a better girl than you

“good aren’t i? god i could almost date myself”

“yeah if you’re into 6″2 hairy girls with a hyena laugh”

he’s looking down at his very manly and unshaven legs

“let me shave it and i’d date myself”

you guys upload it and you’re a hit

“let’s move to LA right now tell the hype house they’ve got two new members joining”

“kuroo, i am NOT joining the hype house and neither are you. 😐”

overall i really think you guys would have fun with this trend and kuroo makes sure to send the video to both of your families who enjoy watching it as much as you guys enjoyed making it

“the roles have reversed i’m your pretty girl now y/n~”

BOKUTO

he’s the one who brings it up to you

“babe look at this we HAVE to try it please please please!”

you laugh at him and agree to it

he is so excited he already knows what choreography he is doing

you guys go to get changed and he lets you pick whatever you want out of his wardrobe

this boy is pure muscle he is huge

anything of his you wear will be like a dress on you

regardless you still take your time deciding what you want to wear

PLEASE pick his volleyball jersey and shorts he will literally cry from happiness

it would make his whole year

so you do just that

he is literally melting at the sight of you in his volleyball uniform

“BABY YOU HAVE TO WEAR THAT TO ALL MY MATCHES”

“-but you’ll be wearing it... at your matches... when you play 👁👄👁”

so bokuto will not be fitting into your tight fitting clothes that's for sure

but he will happen to fit into one of your cute flirty sundresses where the top half is made to be able to adjust the size

he is twirling around and flicking the skirt about once you manage to wrangle him in it

he’s like a giddy school girl

again, he will definitely be up for you to apply make up on him

nothing too heavy but just enough so you can tell he’s wearing some

pretty light yellow eyeshadow, highlighted features and faded eyeliner

you pull his hair into two tight little buns

he’s really feeling the part now

so you guys go to film the tiktok and he is jumping around like an excited kid

you manage to film your parts pretty well first try but he isnt too happy with his performance

“i don't know i just feel like i could’ve thrown it back a bit more”

so you refilm until he is content with his part

which by the way is after 14 tries so thank the lords you are patient when it comes to him

it is so worth it though

the practices paid tf off because bokuto is throwing his cake about like nobodies business

he be serving a piece for everyone fr

immediately after you film it he wants to show akaashi

to which akaashi isn't surprised when he watches it

he does snicker at his phone when he does watch it though

neither you or bokuto really care about views etc

this was all just for fun after all but you upload it anyway not giving it much thought

and just like that the two of you are an overnight sensation

comments are flooding the notifications

“his ass routine? drop it noW!!”

“what's his work out routine i need cake like his 😩😩”

“my boyfriend said he has a fatter ass than me so im currently crying 😔🤚🏽”

the nekoma, fukurodani and karasuno boys are BUGGIN tf out

they're all calling you and sending you the video for confirmation that it is actually you two

it’s not like bokuto is hard to tell apart but they still want your confirmation

“REMEMBER ME WHEN YOU’RE FAMOUS BOKUTO-SAN!!”

“OF COURSE HINATA WHEN WE’RE RICH WE’LL ADOPT YOU CAN LET YOU MOVE INTO OUR TIKTOK MANSION!”

he is SUCH a child but he’s the man child you fell in love with

needless to say this video will be played at the wedding and anniversaries to come

ATSUMU

atsumu is constantly irritating you to be one of those tiktok couples with him

he’s convinced the two of you were made for the tiktok lifestyle

everytime you roll your eyes and decline

but you decide to give him the opportunity when a certain trend catches your eye

“baby, when i said i wanted to be tiktok famous i meant like the dances n cute videos where people compliment us n call us hot. this aint it chief”

“fine then, guess i’ll ask samu”

he doesn't even give u the chance to get up after you say that

“no nO I”LL DO IT 😠”

he is reluctant at first

ideally he wanted to make the tiktoks where you’re the one throwing it back on him not vice versa

anything to make you happy though i guess

he will pick out both of your outfits

if he’s going to do this tiktok, the least he’s going to make sure of is that you both fit his aesthetic

so you’re wearing typical clothes he’d wear to the gym

his gym clothes are actually stylish though

you will NOT catch atsumu wearing anything ugly that includes gym clothes

unlike a certain other setter who thought wearing plaid shorts was acceptable cough cough oikawa

he chooses to wear a tight dress

it’s stretchy though so don’t worry he isn't stretching out and ruining your clothes

“why are you wearing that? you can see a little too much there ratsumu”

“uh so people can see you have a boyfriend that's obviously packin heat 🙄”

“i hate you 😀”

he is hesitant about wearing make up

but you explain to him since you’re doing it you might aswell go all out so he finally gives in

you won’t put a lot on him though just to compromise with him slightly

light highlight, blended out eyeliner, natural lip colour

he’s surprisingly impressed and pulls out his phone to take a few selfies before getting ready to film the ‘stupid’ video with you

he insists he doesn't need to practice

“im good at everythin’ i do and everyone is gonna see that when we film this shit”

surprisingly it does only take you guys one attempt to get it right

atsumu is good at body rolls periodt

he can throw it back

but his body rolls chileee

he looks flexible asf

he is serving absolute attitude

you also did take notice of him using one hand to slyly cover his private area out of modesty though

because he found you were in fact right about how that dress really did show everything

he incorporates it well into his choreography though nobody would be able to tell he was trying to cover himself

“baby we look so fuckin hot. im talkin more bout me but you’re still sexy too”

he adds so many hashtags to the caption

#couple #hot #imhotter #fyp #foryoupage #tiktokcouple #couplegoals #hotboy #sexyboy #hotathlete #attractivemale #eboy #trending #makeusfamous

you just roll your eyes and let him get on with it

im so sorry but you guys don’t get many views

atsumu is pissed

“we put so much effort in why’s it not gettin attention?!”

“calm down babe we only posted it 2 minutes ago”

give it a few days and you guys do blow up though

im talking 867K likes

and to atsumu’s delight the comments are mostly complimenting you both

“told ya this was a good idea”

“it was my idea?? 😐”

requests are open!!

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo hcs #kuroo scenario #bokuto koutaro #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #bokuto hcs #bokuto scenario #miya atsumu #atsumu x reafer #atsumu x you #atsumu hcs #atsumu scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs

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tatertotthethot · 5 years ago

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The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

926 notes · View notes

oumakokichi · 4 years ago

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Do you think that Kokichi had any remorse for Gonta during trial 4 or did he actually not care? I've seen a lot of people saying different opinions from both sides of the argument. But I'm really confused because there was a moment where after Gonta was executed, correct me if I'm wrong but Shuichi asked Kokichi if he could reveal the secret of the outside world (?) But Kokichi replied with something like “I don't want to....” and seemed generally upset? But then a few moments later he snapped out if it and began acting like he had no sympathy whatsoever. I just really wanna know how Kokichi actually, truly felt about Gonta and if he regretted manipulating him. Sorry if you've already been asked this and have already given an answer, thank you!

Hi anon—I actually wrote a pretty big master-post on chapter 4 not too long ago which I think more or less sums up my thoughts on Ouma’s behavior in the post-trial! You can find it here if you want (it’s pretty long and I tried to answer a whole bunch of questions about Ouma in chapter 4 specifically, since it’s the chapter I get asked about the most).

More specifically though, I’m afraid that there is no easy, definitive answer to that question. I can only share my personal opinions about how I believe Ouma felt in that scene. And personally? I do think he was genuinely upset and distraught about Gonta’s death, that he even momentarily considered giving up all his plans and being executed alongside him, and that he cared about Gonta and deeply regretted using him as a sacrificial pawn in his plans.

I’ll discuss what I mean in more detail, but it’ll probably get pretty long, so I’ll put the rest of this post under a cut as always!

The thing is, though, I’ve shared my personal thoughts about the chapter 4 post trial many times, including my reasoning and all of the textual evidence that shows how much Ouma cared about the rest of his classmates. But ultimately, there will probably always be some people who disagree, because their reading of the text will always be a little bit different. Unless we ever have an interview from Kodaka in the future where he directly says, “this is what Ouma was thinking and feeling at this exact moment,” there really won’t ever be a way to know what was going through his head with 100% certainty (and I do feel like leaving it open-ended is something of Kodaka’s intention, anyway, especially since Ouma is supposed to be a very polarizing character).

That being said, I do think it’s worth analyzing the text and drawing your own conclusions, because ndrv3 is a game that changes a lot depending on how you interpret it, and Ouma’s character is included in that. It’s really easy on a first playthrough to get wrapped up in what Ouma says or does without really looking at why he says it, or at his underlying motivations. Going back through the game on a replay though, I do personally think it’s possible to guess at what he might have been feeling during those super conflicting scenes in chapter 4.

In my opinion, I think Ouma did truly care about Gonta as a friend, and that his guilt and remorse over what he did was genuine. Not only did Ouma and DICE have a very strict taboo against killing (mentioned directly in his motive video in Japanese, though the part about it being an actual rule was stripped from the localization), but we don’t see Ouma’s façade crack like this very often. Most of the time when he does his trademark “crocodile tears,” it’s with his very loud, exaggerated crying sprite, and he bounces right back to acting normally within a moment or two.

There are a few exceptions to this, of course—he uses the “crocodile tears” sprite to cry at Kaede, Amami, and Toujou’s deaths, but it’s still very likely he was shaken up by seeing them dead). Nonetheless, we don’t see his much more subdued crying sprites more than a handful of times, particularly in the chapter 4 post-trial just before Gonta’s execution, as well as in Momota’s flashback in chapter 5 when he talks about how Ouma actually hated the killing game the whole time.

I’m aware that some people simply brush these moments aside and assume that Ouma is lying though all of them, but I personally just can’t agree with that interpretation. Assuming that Ouma is lying whenever he shows remorse or guilt or hatred for the killing game means assuming that he’s telling the truth in pretty much every other scene—which doesn’t make much sense, given that his entire character is centered around the concept of lying, as well as moral ambiguity and subverting expectations. Assuming that Ouma actually means what he’s saying 100% of the time unless it just happens to involve showing any kind of guilt or remorse turns him into a very boring, predictable, uninspired character (none of which are words I would use to describe him personally).

Ignoring those moments where Ouma shows genuine attachment to his classmates and distaste for the killing game also means ignoring several key pieces of evidence and clues about him that we are directly provided in the game, including his motive video and Momota’s flashback in chapter 5. Personally, I don’t feel like there’s any reason to include these scenes at all unless it’s to help shed light on Ouma’s motivations and provide players with a clear reason to try and go back through the game again to look at Ouma’s actions through a new perspective.

I also feel that Ouma genuinely cared about Gonta because to put it simply, there was no incentive for him to lie in that scene. He got absolutely nothing out of it—and considering he turns around and starts playing the villain on purpose all of 5 minutes after Gonta’s death, he definitely wasn’t trying to earn sympathy points or trick the rest of his classmates into trusting him. In fact, he could’ve easily tried to make himself look more sympathetic by putting all of the blame on Miu for trying to kill him, or even on Gonta. But instead he fully admits to coming up with the plan to kill Miu and spends the entire post-trial trying to convince everyone not to hate or blame Gonta.

If he was truly as sadistic and horrible as he pretended to be, I think he would’ve pulled a 180 and started throwing names and insults around while Gonta was still alive to hear it, not after he was already dead. If he didn’t care at all about Gonta’s feelings, he had no reason to try and take all the blame on himself while insisting that none of what happened was actually Gonta’s fault. If anything, revealing himself to be this horrible, evil villain who enjoys seeing other people suffer or die would’ve really been adding insult to injury, and probably would’ve crushed Gonta completely, even before his execution started.

But… Ouma doesn’t do any of this. Despite having every opportunity to either portray himself as more of a victim and fling all the blame on Miu and Gonta, or else to completely embrace being a villain who loved seeing people suffer, he doesn’t do either of these things. The way I personally see it, Ouma waits until Gonta is already dead, and when the rest of his classmates begin pushing him for answers about the outside world and demanding to know what Gonta saw, that’s when he finally snaps and resigns himself to acting like a villain in order to make everyone hated.

You could argue that trying to make everyone hate him had a twofold effect: it helped set the stage for him to pretend to be the ringleader in the next chapter, which he clearly wanted, but it also was a way of taking things out on himself and shows just a small glimpse of how much he hated having to dirty his hands in chapter 4. After all, Ouma even says it himself: that the “role of a villain is perfect for him,” because he’s already made everyone hate him. We see Ouma occasionally tease or antagonize the rest of his classmates plenty of times throughout the game, but it’s true that he doesn’t really step into that “villain” role until the end of chapter 4, once he’s crossed a line that he can never come back from by manipulating both Miu and Gonta to their deaths.

None of this is to say that what Ouma did to Gonta is okay, by any means. I think he definitely did care about Gonta and even thought of him as one of the few trustworthy people in the killing game, even someone close to a friend, but that doesn’t mean that manipulating him and using him like a chess piece was okay in the end. I just also think it’s important to realize that there were plenty of extenuating circumstances that led Ouma to act the way he did—including the fact tha he knew Miu was going to kill him, that he already suspected she had measures to prevent him from fighting back or killing her himself in the VR world, and the fact that he did not want to die or get everyone else killed in the trial.

It’s possible for people to care about others without necessarily treating them the best or doing the right thing. A huge part of Danganronpa, something that’s been evident from the very first game, is that sometimes characters can and do hurt each other, even when they care about each other or wouldn’t be a threat otherwise.

It’s the existence of the killing game itself that causes so many characters to go to extremes that they normally wouldn’t, whether it’s Maizono trying to frame Naegi in dr1 despite caring about him a lot, Kaede deciding to try and commit murder under everyone’s noses despite trying to unite the group and wanting everyone to trust her, or Ouma using Gonta as a pawn to kill Miu in his place because he didn’t want to die.

At the end of the day, people are still probably going to have very polarizing opinions about Ouma and the things he did in chapter 4, and that’s honestly okay. In my own opinion, Ouma definitely isn’t a completely flawless, innocent baby who “did nothing wrong”—he absolutely is manipulative, cold, and calculating when he wants to be, and it’s a fact that he got two people killed, even if he didn’t want things to reach that point. But I also personally don’t think it’s fair to write him off as the exact kind of “evil villain” he pretends to be; not only is it a shortsighted interpretation of his larger motivations, but it also completely ignores any replay value and completely shoots down the appeal of trying to interpret Ouma’s thoughts and actions because “he was lying about feeling bad anyway, what’s the point in analyzing him.”

Tl;dr: I do think Ouma cares about Gonta, that he probably even thought of him as the closest thing he had to a friend in the killing game, and that what he did to Gonta in the end wasn’t okay. I think he really did respect Gonta for being such a sweet and kind person, but that he also knew Gonta was extremely naïve and that he would be one of the easiest people in their group to manipulate, hence why he decided to rely on him instead of anyone else. Their friendship is an important part of both of their character arcs, but it’s definitely not what I would call “on equal footing.”

I understand why Ouma’s actions might make some people really resent him, but I also believe that kneejerk reaction of anger and dismissal is exactly the point: Ouma does feel terrible about the things he did, but he doesn’t want anyone’s sympathy or forgiveness, not even the player’s. This, in my opinion, is why he starts embracing the villain role so completely from this point on, and why he’s never quite able to make the same sort of cold, calculating sacrifices in chapter 5 that he did in chapter 4.

I hope this helps answer your question, anon, along with the other chapter 4 post I wrote! Thank you for all your support!

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #new danganronpa v3 #kokichi ouma #ouma kokichi #my meta #ask #anonymous #ndrv3 spoiles //#okay to reblog

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passable-talent · 4 years ago

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Hi yes so I just finished the anakin punk au and it was uh perfect? And you should 100% please write more in that au it doesn’t even have to be in some coherent storyline, just more punk anakin please I am hooked

say no more my dear

I write this. and I think to myself “punks. they like weed. they drink. I should talk about that.”

and then I don’t. because I have a,,, responsibility to promote good health I guess?

don’t do drugs kids. most of them arent worth it i promise

and yes just like i mentioned wattpad in the last one tumblr is coming up on this one we’re breaking the FUCKING fourth wall

part one here

You passed out on his shoulder, exactly as he predicted, at about 2:00 AM.

He didn’t notice for a few minutes, and once he had, he had to make a very hard decision.

He knew you were leaving in the morning, you had other places to be. And he had to get home, Cliegg was going to be pissed he’d been out this late as it was. But- just like you, he never wanted the night to end.

At 2:15, he shimmied out from under you, finding your room key quickly. Once he’d slipped it into his pocket, he picked you up, carrying you all the way back to your room. The door seemed to scream as it opened, but none of the girls were awake. He laid you onto the only empty bed, leaving your room key on the dresser, and kneeled at your beside, for just a moment.

A night he wasn’t going to forget. One he wasn’t willing to leave behind.

He found the notepad left by the hotel for guests and its nearby pen, scribbling his phone number onto it before smacking it onto your room key so that he knew you’d see it.

He wasn’t taking any chances. He did everything he could to make sure that you were safe, that you’d sleep soundly, that he’d see you again. It was a bit of a walk back to where he’d left his car, at the venue, but it was worth it- he shrugged his jacket up around his neck against the cold and kept going, remembering how it’d felt to hold you.

But, in all of his kindness, he had made one mistake. You didn’t get to say goodbye.

You woke up in the hotel room the next morning, for a moment thinking that maybe you’d dreamed the whole thing. But then you realized you still had your shoes on, and you were laying on top of the sheets, why the hell would I do that, and you phone hadn’t been plugged in, and-

And there was a phone number on the dresser.

You weren’t really ‘dating’- you shouldn’t call it that. If you were going to call it that, then there would inevitably be a post on someone’s tumblr that you had a boyfriend, and who was he, where was he from, yada yada... that damn website already had half the internet convinced you were dating Padme, you didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.

So no, you weren’t dating. But you were texting every day. You learned so much about him, about how he was raised by his mom and worked at her friend Watto’s auto shop, about his step-brother and future step-sister-in-law, how his mom died when he was nineteen, about how he’d tried to move to California with his friend Obi-Wan a few years ago, but it fell through. In return, you told him about your life- living in the outskirts of San Francisco, being pushed into ballet lessons as a kid (as he said- ‘that’s why you look weightless on stage!’), being cut out from your family for quitting college to pursue music.

You texted every day and every night, sent him videos from gigs, and he sent dumb little snapchats from underneath whatever car he was working on. You expected that to be it, probably for a long time- neither of you had the money nor the time to see each other more often. So you held onto the connection you had, the night you’d spent together.

And you thought that’d be it. But- the universe has a funny way of surprising you.

Your record label was based in LA, so you lived in Salta Ana, about thirty miles away, where the real estate was way cheaper. The band lived together, close as four friends could be, so they knew all about how you’d fallen for Anakin. Ahsoka would notice you glued to your phone, and ask snarkily “texting skyguy?” to which you always scolded her that his name was Skywalker.

Living so close to LA made it easy to do gigs at any venue that would take you- bars, clubs, a particularly anarchist biker hall. A bar- such was the case for tonight.

Like usual with a gig like this, Aayla had taken to instagram and called any fan in the area, so the bar was mostly filled with people who knew the music, but there were regulars, too. People who couldn’t be damned to listen to the lyrics, and just let the atmosphere move them.

The setlist changed, when you were at a place like this. You didn’t necessarily rely on the hundred voice chorus that you loved so much, and so couldn’t include some of those songs. Your music strayed a little more to the rock end of the spectrum, when you played in places like this. With that high energy came faster music, more running around the stage, more movement, but you weren’t tired, when the set ended at 11:25. You were more energized than usual, in fact.

“Pads, I’ve never heard you solo like that!” You said, a bright smile on your face as you pushed out of the employee entrance of the bar. She gave you thanks, but not a moment later stopped dead, not saying a word, staring at you. You paused, looking at her, then Ahsoka and Aayla, who’d both stopped, too.

“What?” Ahsoka and Aayla, though, were looking at something past you, which made you realize that Padme was, too. You turned, and leaning against the wall was- was Anakin.

“Oh my god,” you said under your breath, dropping into a run toward him immediately. “Anakin!” He shoved himself off of the wall, letting you run into his arms, and just held you. You pulled away to look at him, amazed that after months, here he was, right in front of you, real.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, bewildered, surprised, ecstatic.

“Visiting Obi-Wan,” he said, and he lifted his hand to your face, giving you a good look at that tattoo you hadn’t quite forgotten, dark lines reaching from his elbow to his palm.

“And you,” he added. You couldn’t help it- you hadn’t seen him in so long, you couldn’t help the way you leaned into it when he pulled you into a kiss, and this time you weren’t exhausted, and you could let yourself feel it, you could pay attention to his chapped lips and the way he slid them over yours, still soft, even after waiting in the cold. You never wanted to leave this moment, like so many of the others that you spent with him, his hands on your face keeping away the January air.

“Yeah, I’m heading home,” Ahsoka said, making you break the kiss. “Coming, or not?” You looked back at her with a bit of a glare, letting Anakin’s hands fall to your neck.

“You guys go ahead,” you said, checking your jacket pocket for the essentials- wallet, phone, house keys. “I think I have a tradition to uphold.”

The bar you’d played at tonight was a bit far away from the place you wanted to take Anakin, but you didn’t mind the walk, since it was with him. You’d been texting every day, and yet it felt different, there was so much more to talk about now.

Apparently, Anakin hadn’t seen Obi-Wan since he’d left to move to LA, so it was a visit to an old friend as much as it was an excuse to see you again.

“So you’re staying with him?” You asked, leading him by the arm down the street.

“Yeah,” he said, hooking his elbow into yours, which let him keep his hands in his pockets. “He’s got an apartment in east LA, it’s got a nice couch.”

“East LA, not bad. What’s he do?”

“He’s a talent manager, actually. Went to business school and everything.” Anakin paused, suppressing a chuckle. “He told me that he’d love to represent you, if you didn’t already have someone.”

“Sadly, we do,” you said, playful, “but I’ll keep him in mind.”

You’d pretend it was the winter chill that brought the flush to your cheeks- he’d told his friend about you. That had to mean you were important to him, right?

“Where are we heading, anyway?” He asked, and you, luckily, could channel your inner dramatic and turn toward the doorway you’d been heading toward all along.

“Right here,” you said, and you took him inside.

This was your recording studio- it was always open, so that any artist could stop in and get out whatever creativity they had. You showed your ID card to the lobby clerk, who approved it and called the elevator. Anakin followed your lead until the door closed, and just like you had on the night you met him, you pressed the button for the highest floor.

“This is one of the buildings for our record company,” you said, the elevator so familiar.

“Which would explain why he let you in,” Anakin said, a slight teasing tone to his voice. All you could do was chuckle, waiting for the elevator to reach the top floor.

From there, you lead him to a glass door, and swiped your ID card through a reader near its frame so you could step outside.

“This is the rooftop set,” you said, gesturing to the wide space, “It’s where we film a lot of music videos.” This close to the door, it was hard to see over the side of the building, and so you took Anakin’s hand.

“The city lights keep us from stargazing,” you said with a smile, and brought him to the guardrail at the edge of the roof. “So I thought I’d show you the city’s version of the night sky.” Looking out across the city, there were a thousand orange sparkles, windows illuminated in buildings stretching as far as the eye could see. Criss-crossed between them were lines of red and white, LA traffic clogging the city streets even so late at night.

No matter how many times you came up here, you’d never get tired of the view. Fifty-five stories up, there were other buildings that dwarfed this tower, but the west was free of them, so your view to the horizon was clear, even in the LA overcast.

“Wow,” he said, looking out over it all beside you. “I’ve never- I don’t think I’ve ever been up this high.” You fixed him with a surprised expression, leaning your elbows down onto the banister.

“No? Really?”

“I didn’t grow up in a city, like you,” he said, settling in beside you, his arm pressed to yours. You let your head rest onto his shoulder, remembering the night you met.

“I’m glad you came out to LA,” you said, “though I’m hoping you’ll stay a while. I want to go on an actual date with you.” You heard him exhale.

“You don’t call this a date?” he asked, and you lifted your head, looking at him, the lights of the city giving his face the slightest, golden glow.

“Well, I mean-” If this was a date, then so had been the one after the show, back in October. Which meant this was your second date, and you’d technically been ‘dating’ this whole time, which kinda made him your- boyfriend?

“Is it?” Anakin slipped his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

“This is better than any dinner and movie we could’ve gone to, I think.” He turned over your hand, tracing his first finger over the skyline tattoo that bisected your forearm. “Especially since it seems like this means a lot to you.” You couldn’t believe he’d noticed that tattoo- it meant he really was paying attention to you.

“Yeah,” you said with a smile, lifting your arm up, his hand still held in yours, aligning the tattoo with the skyline you were looking at. “I got this done after we did our first video.” Silently, he examined the ink and compared it to the sky, seeing what you meant.

“That’s really cool,” he said, bringing your hand back down, since his fingers were getting cold in the wind, and he had to assume yours were too.

“How long are you going to be in town?” You asked, resting your temple down onto his shoulder again.

“A week, or so. Watto says he needs me to work on a mustang that we’re getting- I think Cliegg told him to say that since he doesn’t want me in the city.”

“Well, I don’t want to undermine your dad,” you said, “But I wouldn’t complain if you stayed here a lot longer than that.” You ran your thumb over the back of his hand. “It’s really nice to actually have you with me, and not over the phone.” Anakin turned to kiss the top of your head.

“Tell me about it. It’s worse for me, I promise- I listen to your music all the time, and it just makes me want to see you.”

“Sometimes I forget that you were once just a fan,” you said with a laugh, “listening to our music.”

“The luckiest one in the world,” Anakin added, and you almost wondered how you’d ever lived without him.

You let a moment pass, in silence.

“I’m twenty five,” you started, wondering if you had the courage to finish, “do you think I’m too young to be in love?” Anakin didn’t respond, at first. He turned to you, lifting his furthest hand to your face, making you look up at him. You could never get over those blue eyes- you’d forgotten how intense they were.

“I guess it depends on the guy,” Anakin said, his teeth quickly catching his lower lip. “Do you think you are?” You reached up past his arm to his face, your first finger tracing his eyebrow before your palm came to rest on the ridge of his cheekbone.

“No,” you said, and you rushed forward to meet his lips.

-🦌 Roe

#reader insert #imagines #anakin x reader insert #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #punk!anakin #singer!reader #modern au #musician au #star wars #fics

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celosiaa · 4 years ago

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hi me again 🥺 sorry for making you tear up even if it was in a good way (hopefully?) 💕 i don’t mind the wait at all, i completely understand and it’s 100% worth it (honestly i get so excited whenever you post a new fic)!! soooo... i was doing some research for a project on epilepsy and i got thinking about epileptic martin?? like particular in s1 maybe he didn’t tell the other archives crew as he didn’t know them that well/hadn’t worked closely with them before (ok sorry tbc as i am rambling)

hello friend!!! I am so sorry that this took me a literally unreasonable amount of time to write! I really enjoyed the research I did for this, and I love this hc forever. And I hope this is what you were looking for <3

CW seizures, nausea, misgendering

Focus.

Just focus.

For god’s sake.

It’s been nearly an hour of Martin sitting at his desk, trying desperately to rein in any sliver of concentration he can muster to look at the laptop screen before him. He feels awful doing it, but every time Jon has passed by his desk that day, he’s found himself pretending to click around or to type—though he’s got the brightness set so far down there’s no way he’d be able to see it anyway. After a few attempts at turning it back up, he’s had to immediately look away, as the pounding behind his eyes resumes again. So for now, he’s stuck with reading statements—something he is loathe to do even on a good day.

And this certainly wasn’t.

He knows better than this, knows that he’s very nearly approaching disaster—what with the not sleeping out of hypervigilance, not eating out of anxiety, and not having his seizure meds for the past two days, as he’d managed to run out of his flat without them. And there’s no doubt in his mind that he cannot send anyone back to his flat. Not with Prentiss still on the loose.

Selfish selfish selfish

No, stop it.

You haven’t even done anything.

Wishing more than anything that his mind did not constantly run him ragged with thoughts like this, Martin looks up from his papers, intending to find a rubber band to snap against his wrist as a distraction, but instead—

Instead he finds himself frozen, colors fading in and out across his vision, heartbeat steadily climbing as his fingers go numb.

No no no no

Not now not now please not now

Realistically, he knows it’s only been a few seconds, but the seconds feel like years against the rapid thrum thrum thrum in his ears, made even worse when he sees Tim approaching from the periphery.

Damn it damn it

Please please please

“Hey Marto!”

Like clockwork, the focal aware seizure ends, and at last—at last he is able to move enough to look up at where Tim stands, leaning against his desk, smile fading rapidly as he watches Martin blinking in the suddenly-too-bright light.

“You alright?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at his face, doubtless taking note of how quickly he is breathing now to match his settling heart rate.

“Y-yeah, sorry, um. Was just thinking,” is all he can reply, fighting to put an easy smile back on his face.

It seems to have been the wrong move, as Tim only shifts to sit atop his desk, expression quickly becoming overrun with concern.

“Okay, well…you look like you’re having a panic attack, mate,” he says lowly, reaching across him to grab his water bottle and set it nearer to him. “What do you need?”

Even with his misguided interpretation, Martin can’t help the flood of affection he feels toward him in this moment—because that’s just Tim, isn’t it? Never assumes, just asks what will help and then does it.

If only I weren’t such a mess, and would let him.

“Oh, n-no it’s not—it’s not that, Tim, I’m—I’m alright. Must’ve…drifted off, or something. Had a nightmare.”

There is no way Tim buys that, no way in hell—but thankfully, he lets it go.

“O…kay then. Well. If that’s the case, I was just thinking of grabbing some lunch, do you want anything? Don’t reckon you’ve eaten properly in a bit, yeah?”

God, Tim.

I don’t deserve this.

Yes, you do. You deserve a friend and you need to eat.

You need to eat.

“Uhh—th-thanks, erm. Where—where are you going?” he asks, wishing to god his voice didn’t sound so shaky.

He takes a few intentionally deep breaths after that—thinking that perhaps it is a panic attack, after all. Without realizing that several seconds have gone by since his question, he feels Tim’s bracing hand on his shoulder, knowing that he’s not going to ask again—but offering him a clear sign that he’s there all the same.

“Just the corner shop,” he murmurs, starting to rub his thumb over the shoulder seam of Martin’s t-shirt. “Nothing fancy. But I can get you a sandwich, if you like. Well, no—I am getting you a sandwich regardless, but I thought I might be considerate for once and ask if there was anything in particular that you want.”

“Yeah—erm, yeah, just. Anything that’s warm would be nice,” he says at last, sinking a bit as Tim removes his hand from his shoulder. “Thanks, Tim. That’s—that’s really kind.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously,” he says, clapping his hand back against Martin’s shoulder with force before standing. “Be back in a bit. Drink that water.”

“I will,” Martin nods, earning himself some finger guns of approval before Tim starts walking towards the lift. “Thanks, mate.”

And he’s so close now, so close to shouting after him, to asking him to pick up his meds from the chemist, if he calls them in—

Just ask just ask just ask

—and then Tim is around the corner, and out of sight.

Damn it all.

He tells himself it’s probably for the best anyway—that he’s not really even sure he can get them. But it doesn’t stop him burying his face in his hands, tugging at his hair in frustration and shame. Really though, he ought to call first before mentioning anything—perhaps they have a delivery service, or they’ll refuse him, or something.

And what then?

The idea of finding himself suddenly on the floor of the archives, alone and in the dark with the worms having crawled all over him while he seized—

Have to call.

Reaching bitterly for his phone, he takes a deep breath as it rings, preparing his best “customer service” voice.

“Boots, how can we help you today?”

“Hi! Erm, I was wondering if—if I could get a refill for my prescription? For—for carbamazepine,” he says, cheery voice belying the dread with which he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Sure thing! Just need your name and date of birth and I’ll look you up.”

“Right. Erm—well, it’s Martin, but I think you’ve still got me under, erm. Mary Blackwood,” he says, forcing himself not to grit his teeth at the foul taste his deadname leaves in his mouth. “Date of birth October 15th, 1987.”

“Alright, let’s see here—“

Please please please

“—it looks like you’ve already got your refill, Miss Blackwood. Our system says you picked up your medication on the 19th.”

“It’s—it’s Mister, actually. Erm,” he stammers, stomach churning over the entire thing. “L-listen, I—I’ve had to leave my home quite suddenly, and—and I am unable to return there for the time being. So I don’t—I don’t have access to my meds. And I, erm. Really need them.”

Pathetic pathetic pathetic

“I’m really sorry, Mister Blackwood. You’re going to have your doctor call in another prescription for you before we can get you that refill. Unfortunately, it’s out of our hands.”

Of course.

“Oh, right. That’s erm—that’s okay. Thank you so much,” he says as brightly as possible, unwilling to blame anyone for something out of their control.

“You’re quite welcome. Take care.”

With a long, shaky sigh, Martin throws his phone back onto his desk, returning his head to its rightful place, buried in his hands. There’s no way he can call his doctor today—or tomorrow even, with it already being a Friday afternoon. No chance of him getting his refill, then. And no chance of sending Tim back to his apartment either.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

It was just a focal, nothing too bad.

Nothing unmanageable.

I can make it.

Steeling himself with somewhat tremulous determination, he takes another long breath—blinking back against the steady pounding in his head, and getting back to work.

—

“Aw come on, Sasha! Take a break with me!”

“Not on your life. I’m still furious with you, you know,” she replies, tossing her hair like a lion’s mane over her back. “Can’t believe you’d go all the way to the good café for Martin, and not offer me anything. Not even crumbs, Stoker!”

“Listen—” Tim grins back, hands raised in self-defense. “He looked like he could use some soup! I don’t know what else to say.”

“And you didn’t get me any? What about me doesn’t scream ‘I could use some soup, thank you?’”

“It’s different!! It’s—Martin? You alright?”

As he was walking past their bickering, eyes firmly fixed on the floor on the lookout for worms, Martin had suddenly stopped short—looking anxiously up and over their heads, framed by the doorway of Jon’s office.

“Martin?” Tim repeats, already halfway to standing in worry, following Martin’s gaze behind him and finding nothing.

Faster than he can turn back around, Martin’s muscles all tense at once—and he tips backwards onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“Shit! Martin!”

Tim darts forward at once, in some feeble attempt to catch him, but of course, far too late to do so. In his shock, he can do little but stand over him for a few seconds, taken aback upon seeing his eyes still open where he lies still on the floor.

“What happened?” Jon demands, stepping quickly out of his office towards them, where Sasha now crouches near his head.

“I-I don’t know, he just—”

And then Martin begins to convulse.

“Oh my god, he’s—he’s having a seizure,” Sasha gasps as she claps a hand over her mouth, from where it had been pressed against his forehead.

“Fuck. Fuck, what do—what do we do? Do we call 999?” Tim shouts, unwilling to sit by and watch as this all goes on around him, already grabbing Sasha’s phone from her nearby desk.

“I—I think so, let me—”

“Wait.”

Two sets of eyes land upon Jon as he interjects, crouching near Martin’s flailing left arm, waiting for him to set it back down before quickly grabbing at a bracelet circling his wrist.

“I-it’s a medical bracelet. Says epilepsy,” he says lowly, quickly sitting back on his heels as Martin’s arm begins to jerk again.

“Fuck. I—I had no idea,” Tim breathes, running an anxious hand through his hair. “How could we not know?”

“We should—” Sasha breaks off quickly to swallow a lump in her throat, before continuing. “We should be timing it, did anyone see the time?”

“I-I don’t—it’s probably been less than a minute, right?”

“I think so. I’m—here, I’m googling it to make sure—”

While she does so, Martin’s head begins to slam into the ground—and Jon immediately pulls off his cardigan, folding it quickly and placing it beneath him to cushion the blow.

“It’s alright, big guy,” Tim says, settling down to kneel next to Jon, who now has a hand gently pressed to his shoulder—not holding him down, just resting there in a comfort Martin probably cannot receive.

Tim rests his own hand against Martin’s thigh all the same.

“Okay, I think we’re good so far,” Sasha says at last, setting her phone down with a timer running on the screen. “Just time it, and—and keep watch. If it goes past five minutes, we call 999.”

“That’s—that’s it?” Tim says in dismay, snapping his eyes back to his friend, still convulsing on the floor. “There’s nothing else we can do?”

“No. We just have to watch out for him,” she replies, voice low as she adjusts Jon’s cardigan beneath his head. “Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

Not the answer that Tim was looking for.

And so they wait—silent save for the rhythmic smacking of his limbs against the carpeted floor, and the occasional whispered platitude, though all know he cannot hear them. The seconds tick by in agony while they sit helpless, all eyeing the timer on Sasha’s phone creeping up steadily past three minutes.

“I don’t like this,” Tim says, knowing how useless it is to say so—Sasha raising her eyes to meet his for the first time in a while.

“Me neither.”

“Nearly three and a half minutes,” Jon mutters, worrying at his bottom lip while still resting a gentle hand on Martin’s shoulder.

“We’ve got you, Martin,” Tim mutters. “We’ve got you.”

Ten more seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Forty.

And at last—at last he goes still, right past the four-minute mark.

“Alhamdulillah,” Jon sighs as he lets his chin briefly rest against his chest, a sentiment echoed by everyone around him.

“Okay, turn him on his side, here—Tim—”

“Got it,” Tim says as he moves to crouch next to her, helping roll him towards Jon, head pillowed on the arm Jon stretched out across the floor as a cushion.

As soon as they get him in the recovery position, they watch as saliva runs out of his mouth, surely fit to choke him had they not turned him—and he begins to snore forcefully, catching Tim very much by surprise.

“Wh-what—” he asks in bewilderment, struggling to hold back a bit of shocked laughter.

“The website said that’s normal,” Sasha assures at once, reaching behind her to grab a box of tissues from her desk behind her. “He’s going to be sleepy for a bit.”

“Okay. That’s—okay,” he says, watching as Jon takes the tissues from Sasha and wipes at Martin’s face so very gently, before tossing them aside and taking his hand.

Taking his hand.

…interesting.

Stowing THAT away for later.

As Jon starts to move his thumb across the back of Martin’s palm, the snoring stops—and his eyes begin to flutter rapidly, attempting to force their way fully open.

“Hey Martin, can you hear me?” Sasha says rather loudly, bending over him and tapping his shoulder lightly.

All she receives in response is a moan, deep and low, as he squeezes and unsqueezes his eyelids, coughing a bit against the pooling saliva. Jon reaches for the tissues again at once, cleaning his face as best as possible.

“You’re okay mate,” Tim says, patting his hip before leaving his hand there for support. “You’ve had a seizure.”

It takes a few moments, but at last, Martin opens his eyes, looking vaguely around without meeting Jon’s eyes.

“Wh’ happ’n?” he slurs—all three of them exchanging a meaningful glance, a bit alarmed.

“You had a seizure, Martin,” Sasha repeats, stroking at his hair while Tim starts rubbing his hand up and down his arm, hoping it will somehow help to ground him.

Remaining still for a few moments, still blinking, Martin tries to take it all in— looking down towards where Jon still rubs at his hand, though still seemingly unaware of his presence.

“What happened?” he asks again, voice less slurred, but still weak.

“A seizure, Martin,” Jon says, trying desperately to catch his eyes. “You’re alright.”

At once, Martin wrenches his hand away from Jon’s grasp in favor of clapping it over his mouth, muffling a small and desperate gasp behind it.

“Shit. You gonna be sick?” Tim asks, already looking around him for something to grab as Jon once again prepares his tissues.

He does not respond right away, instead pausing for a few deep breaths—at last shaking his head no. In both relief and the absence of something to do with his hands, Jon fusses at the cardigan again—positioning it just so.

“Wh—oh, seizure,” Martin breathes, and Tim cannot help but feel relieved at his gaining a bit of orientation back.

“Yeah.”

Eyebrows knitting together, Martin moves the hand clapped over his mouth to rest on his eyes, sniffling a bit before speaking.

“M’so sorry,” he gasps—and it’s enough to break Tim’s heart.

All of their hearts apparently, as they immediately place their hands on him in a gesture of comfort.

“Hey, no, none of that,” Sasha soothes, brushing back his fringe again.

“M’sorry.”

“Martin, it’s alright,” reassures Jon, with such rare gentleness that even Martin lowers his hand to look—wincing quickly as he does so, and placing it back over his eyes at once.

“Do the lights hurt?” Sasha asks worriedly, placing her hand to cover his own, hoping to block more of it out.

“Yeah—ah,” he grits out with a pained little gasp, and Jon gets to his feet.

“I’ll get them,” he says, and walks quickly to the switch, sending them into a darkness illuminated only by the light from the hall.

With a quiet sigh of relief, Martin lowers his hand again, eyes still closed, and rubs absently at his nose. Stumbling a bit as his eyes adjust to the dark, Jon makes his way back to kneeling beside him, taking up his free hand again.

“Your head okay?” asks Tim, prompting Sasha to card through his hair to look for any swelling. “I’m sorry I didn’t—I couldn’t catch you.”

“…what?” comes the vague response, delayed by a few seconds as Martin tries in vain to sort through what was said.

“Still confused,” Sasha mouths at him silently—and he nods, instead going back to rubbing up and down Martin’s arm, as Sasha moves to massage his neck.

“M’sorry.”

“Hush, darling. It’s alright,” she says, and Tim knows without a doubt she will sit there all day, repeating these same things to him as long as he needs.

And loves her for it.

“…wh—Jon?”

Eyes more focused than ever, Martin looks down to where Jon still rubs a thumb over his palm, stunned very his very presence in this space.

“Yes, I’m here,” he murmurs, offering a small squeeze of affirmation, inadvertently painting a soft grin briefly across Martin’s face—before it drops quickly again in horror, as the reality of the situation sinks in again.

“Oh god. I—oh god.”

“It’s okay, Martin.”

“No no no.”

“It’s alright,” Jon comforts, more soothing than Tim had ever imagined would be possible for him. “Just be still. You’re alright.”

Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen as Martin’s confusion slowly fades away—his recovery naturally filled with a deluge of apologies, patient soothing from his friends, and tending to the waves of nausea that come over him every few minutes. Ever so gradually, he becomes better able to hold a conversation; better able to hold their gaze, asking what happened before he went down, explaining that his…well, everything is sore, but that it’s nothing unmanageable.

There is very little that Martin would call “unmanageable,” of course, but it’s the most they will get out of him.

“I think I can sit up now,” he says after a bit, bracing his arms underneath himself to prepare, and Tim reaches out to support him at once.

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

A bit slow, a bit clumsy, they get him up—not without some worried questioning when he hunches forward, face buried in his hands as the headache worsens with the change of posture. But luckily, it dulls as quickly as it comes, and Martin soon finds himself able to look up, even to offer a bit of a sheepish smile.

“Want some water?” Tim asks as soon as he looks steady.

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m on it,” he says, refusing to accept any of Martin’s guilt-laden excuses, and dashes off to the kitchen at once, leaving Jon and Sasha still vaguely holding onto him in the fear that he might fall again.

“I’m alright, guys, really,” he assures, though he makes no effort to shrug their hands off—so there they stay.

“Do you know what caused this, Martin?” Sasha asks, folding his collar from where it sticks up at the nape of his neck.

With a heavy sigh and an exhausted pinch to the bridge of his nose, Martin replies, face reddening with shame.

“Yeah. You’re—you’re going to laugh.”

“Why would we laugh?” Jon asks so earnestly, so softly that it wins him a long and surprised look from Martin.

“I…dunno really, just. It’s just that it’s—it’s all my own fault. Stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“I—I don’t—” he cuts off for a moment to hiss painfully as he rubs at his temple again, and Sasha’s hold tightens ever so slightly as a precaution. “I don’t have my…seizure meds with me. I left them at my flat when—when I ran. From Prentiss.”

Of course.

Of course he did.

“I would have gotten them for you Martin!” Tim shouts as he returns with the water. “Any of us would, mate. You should have said.”

“I didn’t want to send you back to my flat. She might…she might still…be there.”

He fades a bit as he speaks—rubbing once more at his temples, and Sasha resumes her ministrations of massaging his neck.

“Alright, just—it’s alright, Martin,” Jon soothes, a bit alarmed at the way he’s hunched back over—seemingly nauseous again, as he moves the bin a bit closer to himself just in case. “What can we do now?”

After a few long, deep breaths, his churning stomach finally settles long enough for him to answer, albeit a bit more vague-sounding than moments before.

“I tried…I tried to call the chemist, but…they won’t refill it unless I…unless I talk to my doctor. And it’s not like I can just go.”

“You have to get some from A&E then,” Tim insists, sitting back down next to him and pressing a hand atop his shoulder.

“No, I can’t.”

“We’ll go with you,” mutters Jon, before clearing his throat, returning to his best confident-boss tone. “We’ll keep watch for the worms. Go prepared.”

“You don’t—“

“We will,” Sasha says emphatically, leaving no room for argument—and even Martin knows when the battle is lost. “We’re happy to do it, Martin. Seriously.”

“Thank you,” he very nearly whispers, face flushing beet red as the undue attention of the afternoon catches up with him. “That’s really…too kind.”

“Well, you’ve got to get it somehow, mate,” Tim says with a chuckle, earning himself a warning glare from both Sasha and Jon. “What? I’m sure Martin wants this to happen again even less than we do. Which is saying a lot.”

“Yeah,” Martin says, surprising them all by chuckling briefly in return. “Reckon you’re right about that. I didn’t—this is pretty much my worst nightmare, so…just so you all know how sorry I am.”

“Yes, you’ve said,” Sasha laughs. “And it keeps continuing to not be your fault.”

“Right. Sure.”

He does not sound at all sure—but she lets it go all the same.

“We should go today, Martin,” Jon says as he stands, already grabbing a canister of CO2 in preparation. “Don’t want you to miss another dose.”

“And take that thing on the Tube?” Martin laughs, fully smiling for the first time since the whole affair began. “Think we might get some looks.”

“It’s the Tube, mate. Stranger things have happened,” Tim chuckles, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before jumping in to assist him in standing.

“Suppose you’re probably right about that.”

“Let’s go then,” says Jon, face steeled as if armed to the teeth and ready to tangle with anything coming his way. “Work that needs doing.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma fanfic #martin blackwood #hurt/comfort #cw nausea #cw seizures #cw misgendering #trans martin #jordanian jon #background timsasha #my writing

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applepiry · 4 years ago

Text

Please, Puppy! [Izuku Midoriya]

Or Day 7. Bondage [Izuku Midoriya]

WC: 1121

Pairing: ProHero Midoriya x Fem Reader

Contains: Aged up characters, FemDom, Light Bondage, Oral, the word ‘cunt’, Unprotected Sex

Ry: I love Izuku so much!! My sweet lil switch just like me! hehe

Also, sorry this is a day late. Day 8 will be up later today!

[Smut under Cut]

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Izuku laughed as you used a rope to tie him up.

“You love your wife,” you hummed happily, tying the knot tightly. A small smirk was curving the corner of your lips, thinking of all the fun you would be having tonight.

Even for Japan’s number One Hero, it was going to be hard to get out of the special steel woven rope you had bought specifically for this little bondage session.

Izuku was leaning against the pillows, his arms raised above his head as his wrists adorned the silk covered steel rope, locking him into place against the bed frame.

He chuckled as you spoke to him, nodding, “I really do love you, puppy.”

Leaning in, you kissed Izuku’s lips sweetly, kissing him passionately. As you pulled away, Izuku tugged against the restraints, groaning.

“Pup, get back here…”

“Oh, I will be soon,”

Your lips press against the crook of his neck, peppering it with kisses before dragging your tongue down his collarbone. He groaned under you, shifting to try to move his body more upward into you. With his arms pinned above his head, though, he could barely move his chest up. Smirking as you began leaving hickies across his chest, his chest heaving and body twisting with every bite and suckle of skin. Once his pretty scarred chest was covered in love bruises, you sat back, admiring it. Izuku’s green eyes watched you closely, tugging at his restraints every now and then. His chest was heaving, his lips parted as he breathed heavily, turned on by your attention.

“I shouldn’t have agreed to this…” he groaned softly.

“If you dare use 100%, I’ll cry, Izuku. I will cry.” you threaten, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

Izuku groaned loudly, bucking his hips up. “Then please, let me touch you!” he whined.

“Mmm, if you insist,” you reply, moving so you were standing on the bed, moving so you were above his head, kneeling down so your pussy was lined up with his face. “Only with your- Ah!” you gasp as Izuku quickly buries his face deep in your pussy, his tongue flat as he runs it along the lips, slipping between them.

Your hands press against the wall for support as Izuku’s tongue finds its way into your wet cavern. Soft moans escaping your lips as he laps at your juices, his nose nudging against your clit as his tongue shoves inside your hole. You let out a loud moan, knees shuttering as you claw at the paint.

Rolling your hips to grind your pussy against his face, one hand finds its way down to tangle into his dark green locks. A loud growl escapes his throat as your grind into him, his face pushing up more as he starts eating you out fervently. Moving up, he begins sucking at your sensitive bud before his teeth graze against it as he moves back down, his tongue finding its way back inside you.

“Oh, Izuku…”

A loud groan comes from his body as he continues like this until you're extremely close to the edge, nearly taking you there if you hadn’t quickly pulled back, panting heavily. Looking down, you watch as Izuku’s tongue cleans off what slick of yours off his face that he could. However, his entire face was practically covered in it, so it wasn’t much.

Giggling softly, you lean down and kiss his lips softly before pulling back and moving yourself so your sopping wet entrance is lined up with Izuku’s large, hard cock. Instantly, his hips buck up, grinding his dick into you, a groan escaping his lips.

“Oh god, puppy, please put it in!” Izuku was now trying to grind his hips up into you, trying to figure out if he could get inside you without using his hands. He pulled at his wrists, trying to get the restraints to either loosen or come off completely.

“So excited,” you coo sweetly at him as you reach between your legs, grabbing his throbbing erection. He lets out a loud moan, bucking up into your hand. You smirk and slowly start stroking him, just barely allowing the tip to rub against your slick.

Izuku looks at you through half lid eyes, panting softly as sweat rolls down his cheek and chest, panting softly under you.

“Please, YN, baby, please..” he pleaded with you, whining as he shifted under you, bucking up even more this time, his cock nearly pushing into you. You quickly stood up, making him groan louder.

“Izuku.. Do you want this to last even longer?”

“N-No! God, please, no!”

“Good then stay still. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“O.. Okay. I trust you.”

“Good boy,” you purred, leaning in and giving him a sweet kiss.

You pulled back, adjusting yourself once more as you slowly sunk down onto Izuku’s cock, taking it inch by inch until it was snuggly inside you. Izuku quickly became a mumbling mess, babbling your name and sweet praises as he forced himself to stay still while you slowly moved up and down on his cock. Eventually, you began to speed up, rolling your hips as you began to chase your high, both your moans filling the room.

“F-Fuck, puppy, I’m getting close…” he panted out as his legs trembled, wanting to buck into you but Izuku had been a good boy the entire time, having listened to your request of not moving.

“Do you want to come inside me?” you wonder, moving your hips faster as you grind down against his cock, finding your sweet spot.

“Y-Yes, please!”

“Finish with me, then,” you purr out.

One of your hands moves down from his chest, rubbing against your clit until you orgasm on his cock, moaning his name loudly. Feeling you tighten around his cock causes Izuku to buck his hips up, moaning your name just as loudly as he finished inside of you, filling you to the brim. Your body shutters at the warmth, your legs shivering as you slowly lifted yourself up and laid down beside Izuku, snuggling into his chest.

A whine left Izuku’s throat, “C-Can I be untied now…?” he wondered, tugging at the rope. “I don’t want to break it…”

You giggle and lean up, untying him, his arms wrapped around your waist as soon as they were free.

“That was torture, my love. I missed touching you...” he whined softly as he held you close, nuzzling into your chest.

“Aw, Zuku… I’ll let you tie me up next time, okay?” you giggle.

“Mmm that sounds like fun,” he replies, kissing your breasts as he closes his eyes, his breath evening slowly.

This is for @vixenpen @starry-eyed234 ‘s Event!

MasterList for XXXMas

Main Event Post

#bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya izuku #izuku x you #Pro Hero Deku #Midoriya #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #xxxmas2020 #applepiry #applepiry.content

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nervousmendes · 4 years ago

Text

Did It Happen Again?

Blurb: She's scared and overwhelmed but she doesn't know how to say it so Shawn takes it upon himself to make her feel better.

Warnings: anxiety, a mild panic attack

It was happening again. Maybe for the fourth time this week, or fifth. She wasn't even counting anymore. She felt the familiar churning in her stomach, the goosebumps on her skin, her hands and mouth were shivering, the sound of her teeth clattering and her heavy breathing filled her ears. She hugged her legs to her chest tightly as hot tears were flowing down her face. When would this end? This endless cycle of panic and stress, the sudden bouts of crying, the helplessness, the 'I don't want to do anything right now' feeling and most of all, the pain. Everything was going great, Shawn was finally back home and she was happier than ever. But the stress from work, the constant disappointment on her boss' face no matter how hard she pushed herself and the pressure of it all was eating at her little by little. She was human too, she deserved some amount of appreciation for all the extra hours she was working. She needed to be reminded of her self worth sometimes because working your ass off for two whole years and never getting one kind word in return can definitely take a toll on you.

"Babe, you there?" She heard the front door open and shut but she didn't have it in herself to respond even though she could hear Shawn's footsteps coming towards their shared bedroom. Her eyes were fixated on the three folders of paperwork she had to get through. The familiar look of disappointment her boss would give her was stuck in her head knowing it would be impossible to finish all this overnight.

"Hey, you're he-"

He stopped mid sentence when he found her sitting on the floor, face pressed against her knees, tired eyes and tear stained cheeks. She managed to whisper a small "hi" as he sat down on the floor cross-legged beside her.

"Did it happen again?" His voice was soft, calming even.

"I don't know why." She whimpered, as the tears in her eyes started to trickle down again.

"Hey, hey, look at me." He turned to face her. One hand rubbing soothing circles on her back while the other one held her trembling fingers. He lifted her shaking hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

"We're going to breathe, okay? You know the drill."

"On 3." She nodded. And so Shawn kept her hands in his and slowly counted to three. The two of them then drew in one long breath together, eyes never leaving each other's.

"Hold." And they mentally counted to three before exhaling slowly. They did it a few more times until she wasn't crying or shivering anymore, her breath was steady and her mind wasn't racing.

"Come here." He mumbled before pulling her onto his lap. He brushed a few stray strands of her hair away from her eyes, and he kissed her forehead reminding her that she mattered more than anything or anyone else to him.

"I'm sorry this keeps happening. I really don't know why." Her voice was feeble. She knew he'd hate it to hear her say this, but she did feel bad about how things were going and so she had to.

"I'm going to be here by your side no matter what and I mean that with every fibre in my body, okay?" He continued before she could respond, like he read her mind. "And don't ever be sorry about the way you feel, honey. You know I'm going to be right here, breathe with you and talk to you every single time. It's going to get better, baby, I promise." His words were reassuring. He was going to love her no matter what, and she knew that. The way his hands were wrapped around her frame and the crook in his neck was made just to fit her face were proof to that.

"You already make it a 100 times better. I love you." She whispered in his ear.

"I love you more."

It will get better, she knew in her heart that soon this will all just be a passing cloud. She tilted her head up to look at Shawn's face and found him staring at the binders she brought home from work, annoyance in his eyes.

"He gave you all the paperwork again, didn't he?" He scoffed.

"Yeah." She couldn't help but laugh at the way he called her boss an asshole under his breath.

"I hate him. If I ever see him, I will actually punch him in the face. I'm not even kidding, I'll really throw hands at him."

Laughing at the thought of Shawn getting into a fight, she got to work while he cooked pasta for them both and then they pulled an all nighter to finish all her paperwork, more like she did the work and he watched but he called that helping so she let it slide. And the next morning when she turned in the night's work, her boss said he was proud of her and asked her to stay so he could talk about her upcoming promotion.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I was very scared to post this one but I wrote it when I was having a bad day like a lot of us do. It's not my best but it felt like a really good let out to write about my anxiety and how it's been lately. Please show some love if you liked it and give me sole feedback, I'd love that.

Masterlist | Ask me anything

Prompt list for requesting blurbs.

Mental health carrd.

Taglist: @theregoesmyherojd @shawnmendez @mendesficsxbombay @madatmendes @samaratheweirdo @mendesassemble @vinylmendes @ghostofjuls @shawnsreputation

reply/dm to get added to or removed from the taglist.

#shawn mendes #shawnblr #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagines #mendes army #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn peter raul mendes #sm3 #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn blurb #shawn blurbs

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years ago

Text

@hearteyesforbuck asked:

I have been dying for a meet-cute au where Eddie takes Chris to the gym once a week and they box a little together before Eddie spars; usually Chris sits by the ring and reads but one day Eddie finds him laying on a bench, lifting an empty bar while this really cute blond guy spots him and gives him encouragement ....

guess who’s asks are still broken?

Tumblr keeps adding the “Read More” into the ask box, which breaks the entire post when I try to post it. Why is it happening? No idea, but if anyone knows how to fix it, please let me know, this is getting really old.

anyway, fun fact that I just learned about myself—if you want me to dedicate 100% of my brainpower to writing 4.5k of something in one sitting, you just throw in Christopher Diaz.

Eddie liked to think of himself as some kind of a “do it yourself” kind of dad.

Most of the time, that was a good thing.

Kitchen faucet broke? No worries, Eddie has some plumbers tape and three different YouTube videos telling him how to fix it.

Car wouldn’t start? Not a problem, Eddie bought the full repair manual offline and knows his way around a wrench.

Christopher needed forty gluten free, egg free, dairy free cupcakes for class tomorrow? Eddie was perfectly capable of... admitting when he was outmatched by a stand mixer and calling thirteen local bakeries to see if they delivered, because his car still wasn’t starting.

Point is, if there was a way he could work on something, Eddie would at least try it—and needless to say, that got a little complicated where Christopher was involved.

Eddie still wanted to do a lot of it on his own. Chris was his kid, and no one else's, and he didn’t even like being away from him while Chris was at school—he wasn’t sure if that was guilt stemming from leaving Chris as a kid, or guilt about introducing Shannon back into his life only to have her wind up dead, or guilt about... well, pick-a-thing, but he was pretty damn sensitive about what he perceived he could do to help his kid.

Which is why, when Chris’ physical therapist gave Eddie some suggestions about how Chris could work on strength training at home, Eddie dove completely into the deep end, head first, no floaties.

Working on Chris’ fine motor skills had been cake. Writing, drawing, arts and crafts, even playing video games, all helped improve Chris’ hand eye coordination (and if Eddie ran out of room on the fridge for Chris’ masterpieces and started framing them instead, well, that was his own business, no matter how nosy the busybodies at Michael’s got).

Working on his gross motor skills, though, that was another story. They could go on walks, sure, and they did every day. Eddie could hook up the trail-a-bike to his own once or twice a week so Chris could ride along with him, without worrying about his balance, but those were both leg heavy activities—and while it was great that Chris was building his core strength and leg strength, Eddie wasn’t about to just strap a wrist weight to Chris’ arms and call it a ‘well rounded workout’.

Short of more physical therapy, Eddie was at a loss as to what to do—so when Google Maps pushed him off the 101 to avoid a wreck on his way home from work and he got caught by a stop light right next to "Ricky’s Boxing Gym”, Eddie felt like his prayers had been answered.

Over the next few months, they had set up a pretty good routine. Eddie would bring Chris to the gym, they would hop into one of the many rings, and he and his son would get a half hour of quality time, three times a week. Eddie had his own set of boxing mitts, and Chris thought that spending a half hour trying to punch his dad’s hand was the most fun a kid could have after school. Chris would tire himself out and sit on the bench, drawing or reading for a while more, while Eddie would actually spar with one of the staff members, get his own workout in, and then they’d go home.

Nine times out of ten, they’d stop for ice cream or pizza, and completely undo any of the workout they had actually done, but Eddie thought that was a small price to pay for the whoop of joy Chris let out when he actually managed to hit Eddie’s glove dead center.

Eddie’s sparring partner of choice (well, after Chris) was Tommy Kinard. He was nice enough, and kept Eddie on his toes, giving him plenty of time to look over to Chris to make sure he was safe, and happy, and occupied, and (“Dad, I’m fine! Go punch someone!”) okay, maybe he was helicoptering a little bit. He hadn’t really thought it was a problem until Kinard went on paternity leave, leaving him in the capable, and brutal, hands of Boscoe.

Boscoe was a beast. He didn’t know her first name—didn’t know if she had a first name—but what she lacked in pleasantries she more than made up with strength. If Eddie was being honest, though, he kind of loved it; even after the first day they sparred together, when he wound up limping into the 118, proudly admitting to Hen that he had been beat up by a girl.

The thing was, Boscoe was intense, and while that was a good thing, it gave him less of a chance to helicopter over Chris.

Which, okay, maybe that was a good thing too. Whatever.

He knew the gym pretty well by that point, and knew the people who worked there, knew he could trust Chris with any of them—which is why when he looked up after dodging a jab from Boscoe, and saw Chris absent from his bench, he only panicked a little bit.

When he managed to take a wider look around the gym and saw a familiar pair of shoes laying down on a workout bench, the rest of him obscured by a bigger, bulkier body, that panic went from 0-60 real quick.

“Hey!”

He only barely managed to dodge a glancing blow from Boscoe as he ducked beneath the ropes, grabbing a towel to blot at his face as he hopped down. His voice was little more than a quick bark through the gym as he stepped around another group of machines, his frantic pace slowing a little as he got into earshot.

“... yeah, come on buddy, you can do it! Come on, give me one more rep! You got this little man!”

Fuck, had this stranger actually given Chris a set of weights?

His temper was white hot by the time he finally got around the front of the machine, opening his mouth to shout, to get a manager, to do something, but the words died in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Because Chris was definitely on the bench, and he definitely had his hands on the bar—the bar that was completely devoid of weights, Eddie noticed, the same bar that had two much larger, stronger hands attached to them. Hands that were probably doing all the actual work of lifting the bar, because Chris was laying back, unable to speak, because he was giggling so hard.

The bar landed back on the rack with a dull thunk as Chris pulled his hands back, sticking them straight up in the air triumphantly as he sat up. The man behind the bar gave a big show of leaning against the frame of the bench dramatically, fanning himself, giving Eddie a full view of an employee shirt, name badge, and the gym logo stitched across the polo he was wearing.

Whelp, that was almost very embarrassing for him.

“Holy cow, that was such a good job! Man, you have got to be the strongest kid I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Dad, did you see me? Buck says I’m super strong!”

Eddie had to admit, he was a little thrown by whatever was happening here, but Chris was obviously having a good time, and he felt the white hot anger dissipate into something a little less angry and a little more embarrassed.

“That was some pretty impressive work, buddy! Have you been holding out on me?” Eddie dipped down and tossed a few playful jabs at Chris, selfish only because he wanted to prolong the joy his son was obviously feeling, but it was all worth it as he was handsomely rewarded when Chris started giggling again.

The man—Buck, Eddie gathered—laughed, drawing Eddie’s attention upward, and for a moment, his brain short circuited, because there was no way on earth a gym rat could be this... pretty.

Because damn. Buck was pretty.

Pretty enough that Eddie was easily distracted, waxing poetic (internally, thankfully) about beefy arms and a plush lip that he didn’t notice what was happening until Buck stuck a hand out, smiling, and Eddie could only guess what was going on. He reached out and took the hand, his own smile hitching as Buck’s face slipped into confusion.

“Uhh—”

“...I was asking if you wanted me to take your towel for you and get you a fresh one.”

Oh. Right. Towel.

Eddie’s face burned as he pulled the towel off his shoulder, handing it over, giving a too-tight laugh as he nodded his head. “Yes! If you could get me a new towel so I could strangle myself in embarrassment, that would be great.”

Well, at the very least, that got Buck to laugh again—death would be worth it if that was the last sound he heard. “Sorry I kind of stole your kid. He was wandering in between the machines, and it’s my first week off of the evening shift, so I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt—but then he started asking about all the weights and pulleys and stuff, you have a really smart kid!”

Total Gym Hottie (Buck, his mind corrected. If he was going to drool over someone the least he could do was use their name) was complimenting his kid now, and Eddie was so star struck he was actually proud to say he didn’t stumble when Buck nudged his shoulder, head jerking back to the ring he had abandoned.

"...anyway, I think strangulation is the least of your worries, if I know that look, Boscoe has an entirely different death planned for you if you don’t get back in the ring. Go on, I’ll help little man here wheel you out on a gurney when she’s done with you.”

Buck sounded way too positive about that, and it was all Eddie could do to groan and walk back to the ring, tail between his legs.

Sure enough, even after he had the next day off, he was still sore when he walked into the 118 for his next shift.

Buck became easily, seamlessly, a part of their routine, in a way that probably deserved a little more insight on Eddie’s part, but insight was for suckers. At least two days out of the week, their schedules aligned—Eddie and Chris still worked on their exercises, but now it included Buck giving a dramatic play by play on the sidelines, talking up Chris like an announcer, or just otherwise causing shenanigans.

It was worth it, easily, because while Chris was certainly never a negative kid, Eddie had never seen him in brighter spirits. And Buck... well, anyone that could find a way to help out his son in a way that Chris clearly enjoyed earned an instant gold star in Eddie’s book. The fact that he was easy on the eyes wasn’t a bad thing, either.

“Diaz, I swear to God—”

Eddie only barely ducked under Boscoe’s extended hand, forcibly rooting himself back in the moment, looking guiltily back to her instead of watching Buck and Chris.

“—can you pay attention for like three minutes so I can hit you without feeling bad about it?”

Eddie tried, he really did, but it was hard. A few weeks had gone by since their initial meeting, and Eddie had gone from “wow he’s pretty” to “full high school crush” in no time flat. It wasn’t his fault, though—because what sealed the deal wasn’t the moment Buck had switched to tank tops over polos, or how happy Eddie was to spend time staring at Buck’s magnificent ass (and it was really, really magnificent, let the record show), it was how he interacted with Chris that sent him over the edge.

Buck was good with Chris, but somehow that was the understatement of the year. He was kind, and he was bubbly, and he was just in sync in a way that Eddie wasn’t even sure he had reached, and Chris was his son. Buck was patient in a way that seemed effortless, easily slowing himself down or changing what he was doing when he noticed Chris struggling, wether it was in going over a math problem while Eddie got the crap beat out of him or just showing him how some of the different machines worked.

Hell, right now, Eddie had his hands securely around Chris’ hips as he lifted the other male to a chin-up bar, helping Chris count out the pull-up’s he was doing—and while all Eddie could hear was Chris’ laughter, all he could see were the thick cords of muscle attached to Buck’s arms, lifting Chris like he weighed nothing.

Eddie wondered, not for the first time, if Buck could lift him like that.

Like she was a horrible mind reading pervert, Boscoe smacked him with an open hand—not hard enough to hurt, but not soft enough that he was going to ignore it.

“Diaz, this will be our last session together. Kinard is back next week—” Another punch, a quick jab that Eddie blocked with his forearms. “—so the least you could do is focus on me and not the apple of your eye over there.”

“Buck isn’t the apple of my—fuck—my eye, grow up.” Eddie huffed as he threw out a punch of his own, his hand knocked away violently, only barely dodging the sharp hook that Boscoe sent to him.

“God, I was talking about your kid, Diaz. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Oh.

Ignoring how red his face was, Eddie grumbled and threw another quick jab, though he missed completely as Boscoe stepped back, a grin on her face, and Eddie knew better than to trust that look. The last time he trusted that look, he had been talked into fighting bare-handed, and he still wasn’t sure his knuckles would ever really work again.

“You know, Kinard is supposed to take you back as a client, but I bet if you asked nice enough...”

Oh no.

“Hey, Buck!”

Oh no. Eddie looked up in horror as Buck easily lifted Christopher onto his shoulders—god, so much muscle—and jogged over, with the nerve to not even be out of breath when he smiled up to the pair in the ring. Eddie bit his tongue and leaned over to high five his kid, fully prepared to deal with whatever terrible thing was about to come his way.

“Kinard was supposed to take Diaz here back after he’s off leave next week, but I know he wanted to ease back into things after being away from the gym for a few months. You think you could spar with him in the interim?”

Oh, no, didn’t seem to cover it anymore. Eddie was having a hard enough time focusing on the task at hand when Buck was in the same building, he would be signing his own death certificate if he had to stare Buck in the face, and then try to hit said face. He hadn’t even seen Buck break a sweat before—he didn’t know if his little bisexual heart could take it.

He was somehow both relieved and regretful when Buck shook his head, looking plenty apologetic as he pulled Chris up and off of his shoulders, making sure that he was steady on his feet before he leaned up against the ropes. “Sorry, Eddie. I don’t really box, and besides, I think Chris and I are making real progress while you get your butt kicked. Show him the guns, Chris!” Buck said, and Chris immediately started some classic strong-man poses, Buck posing dramatically behind him, and Eddie felt his heart melt for two entirely different reasons.

Buck turned around mid pose as the door chime went off, giving Eddie ample time to count out the individual strands of muscle fiber in the moment before Buck relaxed, turning with a smile back to the gang in the ring. “Lena, that's my next client. Chris, Eddie, I’ll see you both next week, yeah?” He said with a grin before he fist bumped Chris and waved to Eddie, slipping back into Professional Buck mode. Eddie waved back, brows almost in his hairline as he looked back to Boscoe, who was scowling at him.

“So—”

“No, Diaz.”

“Wait, why not? Buck gets to call you Lena!”

“Beat me in the ring as often as Buck does and I’ll consider it.”

Eddie had his mouth open to retort when Chris cut him off, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he tilted his head. “Can I call you Lena?”

She didn’t even hesitate a moment, nodding her head seriously. “You can absolutely call me Lena, squirt.”

Chris promptly stuck his tongue out at his dad, and Eddie reacted in sort, falling to the floor of the ring as he grabbed at his chest. “The nerve! Betrayed by my own child, my own flesh and blood!”

Chris looked thoroughly unimpressed, sitting back on the bench as he started to pack up his schoolwork. “Lena, can you tell my dad to stop being such a drama queen?”

It wasn’t until they were both in the car, that Eddie, thoroughly beaten down by his son, his trainer, and his own brain for providing a play by play of Buck that day while he was in the locker room shower stall, really thought about what Buck said.

He didn’t box. Which was strange enough in a boxing gym, but whatever, there were plenty of machines that Buck could be working on instead.

But them Boscoe (god, he couldn’t even call her Lena in his head, it felt like she would figure it out and beat him to death) basically admitted that Buck regularly whooped her behind the ropes

If Buck wasn’t boxing in a boxing gym, what the hell was he doing?

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have to wait long to figure it out. Barely a week had passed before Eddie had received a call from Chim, all but begging Eddie to switch shifts so he could take the girl he had been seeing out on a proper date. The switch was a no brainer—Maddie seemed like a great girl, and as much shit as he gave Chim for... well, being Chim, he obviously wanted to see his teammate happy, especially when the only thing he would have to change was a gym day from a Monday to a Sunday.

If he had known that this would be the day that sealed his fate, he probably would have reconsidered the switch all together.

The gym was packed—which probably wasn’t surprising for a weekend day, but damn, Eddie had been glad he booked a ring with Kinard ahead of time. It was nice to see a familiar face in the gym anyway, one that wasn’t trying to beat the crap out of him in the ring, and once Kinard joined up with them, it was easy to shoot the shit. Eddie congratulated him on his step into fatherhood, ruffling Chris’ hair as he did—not that Chris noticed, busy scanning through the machines for a familiar blond head.

Not that Eddie could judge, when he was doing the same thing.

“Hey, I’m gonna toss my stuff in a locker. See you out here in a sec?”

“Yeah, sounds good! Buck and Boscoe are almost done in their ring, we have it next.”

Eddie was halfway to the locker room before what Kinard had said clicked in his brain, and he immediately did a 180, making a beeline to the rings set up on the far side of the gym, easily spotting the pair when he knew what to look for.

It was no wonder that neither he nor Chris had recognized Buck when they walked in—he was literally drenched in sweat, his usually fluffy blonde hair dark and slicked to his forehead, scowling around his mouth guard as he danced around Boscoe.

Boscoe, who Eddie had never seen so worked up. Damn, she really hadn’t even had to try during his matches. Wasn’t that a blow to the ego.

No, Buck definitely wasn’t a boxer, because this was a dance. Every move he made, he made with his entire body, his energy flowing through each form, moving easily and gracefully in a way that shouldn’t have been possible with such an incredible amount of force and flat out violence. He almost felt dazed as he followed Buck’s movements, but in the best possible way, his eyes snapping back and forth as he tried to trace where one hit ended and the next began.

“Wow.”

Eddie was glad that Chris said it, because he still couldn’t find the muscles needed to pick his jaw up off the floor. He didn’t know if Chris had followed him over to the ring or if his Buck-radar was just that good, but for the time being, Eddie was more than thankful for the minute distraction as he ruffled his kids hair again.

Boscue was moving more desperately as the match continued, launching into a series of quick jabs, but even Eddie could see where that was her downfall. Buck knocked her arm back with her last punch and sent a kick straight for her shoulder, but then he twisted his entire body off of the mat and his other leg was in the air too, and Eddie instinctively sucked in a breath as Buck locked her neck between his thighs. They both came crashing down to the mat, struggling impressively until Boscoe slapped Buck’s thigh twice, and then—

—and then Buck was all smiles again, beaming as he released her and took a knee on the ring, helping her back into a sitting position, spitting out his mouth guard with an excited moment of praise for her technique.

Eddie could not compute. This was his downfall. Eddie is dead, long live Eddie.

“Holy cow, Buck! That was amazing! You’re like... you’re like a ninja crime fighting super hero!”

Well, that was one way to put it.

Buck’s head whipped around at Chris’ excited outburst, lighting up when he spotted Eddie and Chris near the bench, eagerly scooting forward into a sitting position closer to the ropes.

“Thanks, little man! That was some mixed martial arts, it’s super fun. I’ve been teaching Lena for a few years, she’s getting pretty good!”

Buck’s grin slid into something a little more proud and pleased as he looked to Eddie, and Eddie felt every muscle in his body tighten as Buck’s gaze burned through him.

“What did you think of that leg lock, Eddie? Total knock out, right?”

Oh fuck, was Buck flirting with him now? That had to have been flirty, right? Come on, Brain, do something.

“... legs.”

“...my legs?”

“Buck, your... your legs.”

Buck’s smile looked a little more pinched as Eddie groaned, shaking his head. “Okay, I, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you this or I will completely die. Can I take you out to dinner sometime? I know a great place off the strip, you’ll love it, my treat.”

The look on Buck’s face was skeptical, at best, but at least he wasn’t shutting him down, giving Eddie the benefit of the doubt (and giving him a moment to get his brain back online). “Because of my legs?”

“No. Well, okay, you have amazing legs. And arms, though, and like... a stupidly handsome face, and I would be blind not to notice those things—” shit, Eddie probably sounded like such a shallow asshole right now. “—but I’m asking because you’re really smart. And you’re kind, so kind to Chris too, and you’re patient, and... Buck, you’re really really sweet. And I would love to take you out for a dinner date the moment you can look past my apparent inability to form a single coherent thought.”

After a moment that felt much longer than the three seconds it was, Buck sighed and leaned past Eddie, looking critically to Chris. He slid down to his stomach, squinting as he dropped down to eye level with the boy. “What do you think, Chris? Should I give your dad a shot?”

Well, at the very least, Buck was asking the one person that Eddie knew he always had in his corner; and sure enough, Chris delivered. “I think so. Dad really likes you.”

That’s his boy.

“Last week he spent my whole entire physical therapy appointment telling Dr. Wilson how much help you gave me and how nice you were and how much he appreciated it. It got kinda annoying.”

...well damn, Eddie wasn’t expecting to be called out by his own kid like that, but if the suddenly soft look Buck was giving him was any indication, it might have been the necessary push to get him to understand how serious Eddie was.

Eddie tried to keep his excitement tamped down when Buck nodded, sitting back up. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. Only because you managed to ask me out before I could ask you.”

Wait, Buck wanted to ask him out anyway?

“If you can land three hits on me in three minutes—should be easy after spending a weeks with Boscoe—then you can pick the time, the place, and I’ll even talk Lena in to letting you call her Lena. But if you don’t...” Buck reached through the ropes to help Eddie up, tossing him a wrap for his hands as he did. “... then I get to pick the time, the place, and you start training with me in MMA instead of going back to boring old boxing.”

Eddie blinked at him in abject horror as Buck dipped his voice low, seeing with terrible clarity exactly where Boscoe had learned her terrifying grin.

“That way you can see my leg choke up close and personal. Deal?”

The stakes were too high, and Eddie couldn’t say no.

He was screwed.

He was elated.

But fuck, he was screwed.

(Three minutes later, Buck asked if Eddie was free on Friday at seven, promised to pick somewhere nice, and gave him a searing kiss before he disappeared into the staff locker room. Eddie, on the other hand, needed a spatula to peel himself off of the floor of the ring.

He had never been so happy that he could barely move in his life.)

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sevensoulmates · 4 years ago

Note

Eddie reaction to Abby I found interesting because obviously he never met her but more the fact it was Eddie who told Bobby that he was abby fiaince when he said about working on the outside of the trian because I feel like it was the first time Eddie didn't trust bucks ability to do his job and think clearly(I feel like buck would said about the outside of the trian anyway because he always want to save everyone)

What do you think about eddies reactions to Abby and buck from the train crash, cause personally I feel like even if buck didn't know that Sam was abby finance he would still have tried to save both risking the train falling on him and yet Eddie basically told bobby to try to stop buck

So I’m gonna put these two asks together since they’re pretty similar. Strap in, this is gonna get long and analytical.

First of all, I think the choice to make Eddie be so prominent in these scenes between Buck and Abby was deliberate. There is only one time when Buck and Abby are talking that Eddie is not physically there watching everything. The whole rest of the time Eddie is there in every frame, every shot, and even gets close ups of his reactions.

I think about the choices they make when choosing which characters will be in each scene. Because as we’ve seen before, they are willing to switch out certain characters to change the tone/impact of a scene. For example, we have Hen and Eddie being switched out for Karaoke with Albert, because (in my opinion) the writers felt that having Chim’s best friend Hen be the one singing karaoke with his brother would hurt Chimney MORE than just Eddie singing with Albert. Now the reason I point out switching characters, is because if the overall point of the Abby/Buck reunion was to make the other characters worry specifically about if Buck will continue his work professionally or if he will let his emotions affect him (ie. risking his life), who is the best character to get that reaction from? In my opinion, Bobby. We see it later on, but Bobby is the one who makes the decisions on if Buck can/cannot work as a firefighter any longer. The person Buck needs to prove he can be professional and put his emotions aside to is Bobby. Bobby is the reason we had the entire lawsuit storyline and Bobby is the one who can’t put aside his fatherly feelings for Buck and let him do his job. Their job literally is risking their lives to save people.

So if they wanted the whole emotion vs. professionalism theme to be the main focus of conflict for Buck, in my opinion, the character to bring that out most would be Bobby. And yet Eddie is the one in this scene. I’ve heard people saying it had to be Eddie because he’s the only one who doesn’t know Abby. I kinda disagree mostly because I think if you had let Abby run into Bobby first, we would’ve had a whole new layer of “oh shit this is the woman who broke my adopted son’s heart” AND “Buck is going to act irrationally because Abby’s back”. Bobby would understand that implications of Abby being back on a deeper level than Eddie would (in my opinion given that Eddie never actually met nor saw any interactions between Buck/Abby). So why choose Eddie of all people to be the one who meets Abby first and have him be the one through which we as an audience are latching onto (since we are also the third party observers watching their reunion with an emotional stake).

I think that Eddie was chosen to be the reaction conduit for multiple reasons. 1.) Eddie is Buck’s closest person other than Maddie and Bobby. Buck is a part of Eddie’s immediate family unit, and Eddie (alongside Christopher) is Buck’s person. Just like was stated in 3x16 everyone else has someone outside of work, except Buck, and even though he has Maddie, Maddie has her own person (and now will have a baby to prioritize too). The logical conclusion to who is Buck’s person/people, even without stating it within the episode, is obviously Eddie & Christopher. It’s shown throughout the entirety of this season. Eddie, Christopher and Buck have carved their own little family unit together, even if they don’t outwardly realize it yet. So who is the most at threat if Abby were to re-enter Buck’s life? Eddie. But then we get the information that Abby has a fiance and...

2.) Eddie is witnessing years of bitterness, heartbreak, confusion and betrayal wash over Buck in this moment. Buck has always been Eddie’s #1 support system with everything and now it’s Eddie’s turn to be his. Eddie recognizes that more than this being an emotional vs. professional time, that this is causing tremendous personal pain for Buck. Eddie understands that pain. He knows what it’s like to have a woman you loved come back and have to face that pain head on. But to see that that woman has completely moved on and forgotten about you? It’s a dead ringer back to 3x16 where Buck feels like everyone leaves him for bigger/better things and that he feels he’s not worth staying for. Eddie felt the exact same way with Shannon. Eddie understands Buck’s pain the most in this moment. And that’s why he’s not immediately like “hey, you gonna keep you’re head on straight and be professional about this?” but instead when Buck starts to zone out, Eddie steps in, he becomes the professional Buck needs him to be in that moment. He shields Buck bodily and only leaves when he has to. It just reminds me of when Eddie was mad at Buck for “making things all about him” and yet, in that moment, when Buck could make it about him again, instead Buck shuts down his emotions. It’s only when they’re presented with the choice of Abby’s fiance vs a stranger that it finally gets brought up again.

3.) Eddie and Abby are and have always been parallels of each other. They are/were both single people taking care of a disabled family member (Eddie & Carla’s scenes are the new Abby & Carla scenes). They both moved to escape crippling situations and found their forever families. They’re both strong-willed, cool-headed, good in a crisis, etc. They’re both people who become close to Buck very quickly. And, I’m just going to say it, they’re both the main loves Buck has had over the course of the show. Buck absolutely loves Eddie (even if it might not textually be romantic at the moment) with all his heart as seen by how he reacted to nearly losing him in 3x15, as seen by how hard he fights to be back with his team (with Eddie), how much he gives to be a partner and parental figure to Chris. This is all information we know PRIOR to knowing Abby has a fiance AND that that fiance has two kids who have become like Abby’s own kids. It’s just the most blatant and obvious parallel I’m actually shocked. Abby moved away and met a single father with kids, fell in love with him, became his fiance, and became a surrogate mother to his kids. I just...WHO DOES THAT REMIND US OF, HMM???

4.) Then we get the shift from Abby being a parallel to Eddie, to being a parallel to Buck. Eddie then becomes paralleled to the role of Abby’s fiance. Now it’s not just that Buck is fighting to save Sam because of Abby, but Buck’s fighting to save Sam because Sam is the love of Abby’s life, and they have kids who need them. Does that remind us of how hard Buck worked to make sure Eddie could go home to his son who needs him? Yes, yes, it does. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: Abby’s present is Buck’s future. Abby’s past is Buck’s present. In the scene where Abby and Buck talk post-train crash, everything Abby talks about the person she was and the place she was before leaving, is exactly who Buck is at the moment. Living life solely for the job. Putting work above himself and his relationship. Putting OTHER PEOPLE before himself always. And who Abby is now is someone who found herself, and through that found her fiance and kids who became her family. And we know that that is all Buck wants. He wants to find his people. He wants to find his family (he just doesn’t realize that he literally has it already).

Yes, 100% Buck would’ve tried to save both of them, even if he didn’t know Sam was Abby’s fiance. But yes, knowing who Sam was and knowing Abby was waiting did color his motivations and again that’s why we have Bobby there to be like “here we go again”. Bobby could’ve been the sole voice of reason there. But instead, Eddie (once again) let’s HIS OWN FEELINGS get in the way of being professional. This time it’s Eddie who snaps, tells Bobby it’s because of Abby, and then storms off in a literal vertical train car but I digress. Eddie doesn’t just seem fed up with Buck in that moment, he seems hurt. And as we know an Eddie who feels hurt by Buck is an Eddie who lashes out. He’s hurt (and mad because Eddie Diaz has an unhealthy coping mechanism of getting mad when he gets his feelings hurt) that Buck is so willing to risk his life for someone who broke his heart. That Buck is willing to get himself killed, willing to let himself die and by extension shatter the hearts (and essentially abandon) everyone who loves him (Eddie, Chris, all of the 118, Maddie, etc).

Eddie is mad because Buck is so willing to get himself killed (so willing to be torn from their lives) and for who? A woman who doesn’t love him anymore? A woman who has her own family and will move on with life even if Buck is not in it? No screw that, Eddie tells Bobby in the hopes that Bobby will talk him out of it, but when they just squabble Eddie has to shut that down too. Because Bobby is equally afraid of losing Buck. He’s been proving that all season. It’s the reason Buck has to pull the Athena card to try to get through to Bobby. Because at the end of the day, regardless of their familial feelings for each other, this is their job. And Bobby has to let Buck do it.

Buck actually has a good plan that could work. If Eddie had been the one to suggest this plan, I have no doubt that Bobby (and Buck) would’ve been right behind him. They’d be worried, but they would not question Eddie’s judgement. But because Bobby and Eddie are so invested in Buck emotionally, they don’t want Buck to risk his life even though that’s literally all of their freaking jobs. Now it’s Eddie’s turn and Bobby’s turn to put aside their personal feelings. Put aside their fear of losing Buck. They let him use his proven creativity and intelligence in near-impossible situations, and they let him make the risky save. And in the end, he’s right, and he saves both of them. And this proves that Buck’s heart, and his drive to save people no matter what, the way that he never gives up, makes him a better firefighter--and a better person. And it’s the reason why the people in his life love him so much. So, yes, while I think both Eddie and Bobby doubted Buck in that moment. I think Buck proved that when he is given the chance to prove himself, his head and his heart are the winning combination (this is also why I adore Oliver’s tattoo because it fits Buck’s character so well).

I think the finale was so buddie heavy, and so buddie positive despite there not being anything super concrete about their romantic relationship in the ending moments. I think we’re slowly but surely getting there, and I’m so excited to see it unfold.

#buddie #911 fox #buck x eddie #answer #Anonymous

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chemicalarospec · 4 years ago

Text

A Look At Dan’s Recent Branding

AKA I Make Up a Bunch of Stuff About Media and Perception and Promotion and Branding and Say the Same Things Over and Over

I’m so sorry this is actually horrendously long. I’m a loquacious a$$hole.

So I started rambling in the tags of this post began thinking about Dan’s presence recently. The reason so many of us fell for the red chairing was because it actually seemed possible -- perhaps not a proper joint video, but a cameo or side role.

Now that the video’s out, I can see it has very strong Solo Phil vibes, but I can still imagine a few different ways Dan could have been in it if he wanted to be. (Side note: It also feels like a run-of-the-mill, everyday, video, though seasonal, and not a festive special, despite the content. idk, I blame it on the lack of decoration and boring grey wall. cue clowning for more spoopy content though.) Dan is not in the video, so he must not have wanted to be in it. Why?

Before I talk more, let’s just talk about “branding” for a bit. I use it interchangeably with “image”/”public image”/”public persona”/”common connotations”/”associations” here (kinda wrongly), but I default to “branding” because it’s what the phandom (possibly even Dan and Phil themselves?) use the most frequently -- “image” is perhaps the best-fitting term. Regardless, in a very general example, if Stephen King wrote a fluffy teenage romance book, it would be “off-brand” for him. That’s what we’re talking about here. Except with Dan and smaller differences.

It’s also worth noting that Dan and Phil were not always Dan-and-Phil -- I remember seeing an early liveshow clip where Dan says they’re not a double act. I’m pretty sure the radio show in 2013/early 2014 followed by the launch of the gaming channel in 2014 is when they became a “double act” -- the BBC absolutely billed them as such.

You can see what I’m getting at here: Dan is trying to drop the “and Phil” in a softer way than he dropped the “isnotonfire” back in 2017. However, it’s definitely worth noting that he had already distanced himself quite a bit from it before the official name change, with first the shorter fringe and then the curls being a visual representation of that. And it’s probably just a mental thing on my part, but curly Dan now looks different from curly Dan-with-Phil.

Okay so first, why is he trying to change his image? Like his first evolution, a major component is being more mature -- llamas and malteasers didn’t simply not represent Dan anymore, they represented a younger, less mature Dan. He didn’t like it anymore. Does Dan not like who we view him as now? My first instinct is “no,” because his current connotations are fairly empty, but I don’t really know, so I’ll just move on.

What do we associate with Dan right now? i. e. what’s “on brand” for him? Well, again, there’s not a lot of strong specifics, at least for me. After two years for being nearly absent from the internet and very clearly growing a lot as a person, Daniel hasn’t talked enough for there to be only the basics left: tall, British, memes, and gay.

Okay, but the gay. Dan and Phil have been out for one year, but being part of The Gays is a pretty big part of their branding. This is because of their already long-standing reputation, more specifically their attachments to the community -- all those teenage girls turning out to be lesbians and, of course, the shipping.

The Gay is also an answer to the next question: What different aspects of his image is he pushing? Again, that he’s more mature and serious -- the UN talk, for example. I’m not counting the book here because that’s the product of the changes, not content being used to create a shift.

The big thing I want to focus on is the attitude video series. I’m very curious as to how this came about to be and don’t know enough details to say some things, but one thing I can note is that the plug for You Will Get Through This Night is a really small part of it. It’s literally the last thing he says, and they don’t even show the cover. It’s so skippable, and while it’s good that means they all really care about the important content of the series, it does create some questions.

To be honest, all of the attitude/This Night content is kind of strange to me. For example, the quote they used to promote it doesn’t mention the book, which just looks bad. This Night isn’t really the center of the collab -- it’s more general mental health awareness and activism.

So that’s the first thing Dan’s trying to put into his image. The podcast (Get Britain Talking or something like that) is, I feel, more directly part of marketing This Night, though of course, like with the video series, the content itself is emphasized and important and I should treat it as such.

Back to attitude. attitude is “the UK’s best selling gay magazine.” Why is Dan trying to build connotations to things he already is? No, but actually this gives insight on how he’s trying to be perceived: he’s a confident gay man. This magazine with its connotations (formal media, queer, well-established) will come up should someone new search up Dan -- obviously that’s not the direct reason; it’s a representation of his public image.

Why is he trying to create this image? Right now, us in the phandom are probably 90% of the people tuned into Daniel’s actions. We’ve already built up a lot about him, and though we don’t want to admit it, we do like Dan-and-Phil, the double act. Overall, I do think Dan will not change our image of him as much as he’d like, but he has changed it more than we might think -- for example, people talking about how “mature” and “grown-up” he is in new photos.

I think I’m just stupid, but these pushes don’t seem to be needed for You Will Get Through This Night. Okay so the problem here is “how do you get people to buy a book?” An author’s broader public persona doesn’t really impact this. I’m not going to hear about a mental health book written by an ex-Youtuber and search up the author. I’m not going to hear about a mental health book written by an ex-Youtuber in my normal book searching, period.

You know where I could see myself finding out about a book like this, and what would get people to buy the book? Doing mainstream interviews specifically about it; I’ll read TIME interviews with anyone, so long as it seems mildly interesting. But Dan’s not doing that, not a lot, not yet. (I bet he will later.)

I guess what I’m saying is the attitude video series is periphery media that impacts his branding but does not reach a large audience; it’s impact is atmospheric, not promotional.

(Dude it’s 10:30 at this point I’m not sure what I’m saying.) (also I rearranged these paragraphs sorry if it reads poorly)

Dan is a private person. He has made this extensively clear throughout the years and in the most recent content. What this means is I don’t believe he wants to update his branding just for the sake of accuracy to self.

So it’s (partially) for something else, but the public framing clearly goes beyond This Night. The obvious answer is that Dan’s just trying to return to the public eye, but then I still ask why???

The attitude series is not an end goal -- i. e. it is a building block for something. I mean, I just don’t think Dan’s like “yeah I want to create content again and this is the content I want to create,” simply because it started out seeming like an extension of the interview and now it’s clearly more than that, but it’s still like, for the magazine. It’s not his.

So what’s Dan going to do with this status of being a queer content creater and mental health advocate he’s curating? So remember how there’s a 99% chance he’s doing something w/ television but there’s been no official announcement? Yeah, that.

I had a few paragraphs talking about book-adjacent media (interviews, reviews, ect.) vs television-adjacent media but all of it was me 100% making stuff up so it’s gone now. Basically, I *think* if he were to make a show, fiction or non-fiction, people would search him up and write a small description of him, and I *think* this is less likely for You Will Get Through This Night, so I *think* this reputation-building is in preparation of the former, not the latter.

Isabelle, you spent over an hour on this, do you actually have anything interesting to say?

Freaking *waves hands* promotional-- social dynamics-- what the heck actually is branding at this point-- Dan show.

TL;DR: It might just be the French in me (or just *my* French relatives?), but life is manipulation and Dan is trying to drop “and Phil” from his name and is manipulating his public image to be more mature, with a focus on being one of The Gays and a mental health advocate. Because it’s not vibin’ as This Night promotion/set-up, it is likely setup for promotion for another project, probably the TV one.

TL;DR 2: Just read the tags on the original post I literally didn’t have to say any of this except for “television theory”.

#dnp #dan howell #daniel howell #you will get through this night #dan and phil #sorry dan #but i know our people lol #u can't escape i apologize #I said this #things I've said #my writing #god why the frik i hae al;flkajdsf;lkj acan't type 100 million tags #dan #dan book #this night #hey actually just reaidng the bolded parts and skimming the rest words well #that was a smart move on my part #for readability

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aerielz · 4 years ago

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1, 3, 8, 9, 12!!!!! and like. any others because i love talking tww with you! also i assume your really stressed with finals and school and life, so this is a reminder from a friend that you’re going to be okay! it will all be over soon, and you have so much strength and intelligence that you can surely handle this<33 so yeah, here you go- distraction AND reassurance, hope this helps🥰

At some point you're going to make me cry, okay? You’re the best!!!!! I also love talking tww with you, and it really does help. Finals have been killing me, and I really needed this!

On to the answers!

[Under the cut because I really went for it. and I mean... I went for it. check the last answer if you want just the headcanons, everything else for unpopular opinions, lmao]

1: favorite episode(s)

Ohhhhhhooooo boy. There’s an endless list. I think I can name a season’s worth of them, but here’s ones I can pull from the top of my head:

Crackpots and These Women: and here’s some of my rationale behind the choice. but yeah, I could go on and on about this episode.

Nöel: listen, I’m a basic bitch who’s in love with Josh Lyman, okay, is that simple. But. yeah, like, no. here’s the thing, there’s a reason why everyone won Emmys for this one, ok. the writing is freakishly good, and Bradley Whitford can draw nuance from a fucking comma. that episode is absolutely off the charts when it comes to just about any aspect of the filmmaking. it’s what happens when everyone involved decides to live up to their potential. it’s one of those I need to reign myself in, otherwise I'll just go full analysis and there’s no end to that meta lmao

The Steakhouse Filibuster: the way this episode works is... pure fun. I'm a writer and it doesn’t turn off and I will start taking about structure unless I shut up now, so. also, DONNATELLA MOSS, who I'm, also, in love with.

Hartsfield’s Landing: “You're a good father, you don't have to act like it. You're the President, you don't have to act like it. You're a good man, you don't have to act like it. You're not just folks, you're not plain-spoken. Do not - do not - do not act like it!” “I don't want to be killed.” "Then make this election about smart, and not. Make it about engaged, and not. Qualified, and not. Make it about a heavyweight. You're a heavyweight. And you've been holding me up for too many rounds.” This exchange carries a lot of meaning for me. it’s about being who you are in spite of outside opinion, and this idea has been hitting me like a truck, these last couple of months.

Holy Night: [cries in JD shipper language]

Commencement: hands down the best episodes this show has ever produced, season finale notwithstanding. but I'm biased, because they used Angel, and I loved that song. also: DONNATELLA MOSS.

The Supremes: everything Debora Cahn ever wrote for this show deserves more love. This episode is a work of art, and. like. Glenn Close, man. also: DONNATELLA MOSS. are we sensing a theme, perhaps?

No Exit: THIS EPISODE HURTS SO GOOD. And for many reasons, including the fact that we get cj and donna’s scene. I'm queen of unpopular opinions when it comes to this show, tbh, and this is just one of them. It’s one of those really serious episodes that happened post-sorkin that gave the actors a chance to shine through the lens of a more poignant drama. Janel is so good here, I can’t stress that enough.

King Corn: [more cries in JD shipper language. louder]. I love how they stress just how much Donna is growing by paralleling her routine with Josh’s. She’s on his level now, they’re on the same boat. Not just that, but we see the toll the distance takes on both of them. It’s distance makes the heart grow fonder in perfect visual form. writing-wise, it’s impeccable. and since I actually like the direction the show took after Sorkin left, I really like this one.

Freedonia: Eli Attie’s creative is paralleled by none short of Vince Gilligan (of breaking bad fame). After he arrived on the show the political content got to a whole new level, and under his writing we finally got to see josh being the genius political operative we were always promised he was. I mean, the chickens. the damn chickens.

The Cold: the writing and the kiss and the FUCKING BEAUTIFUL SHOTS OF JOSH AND DONNA FRAMED BY LIGHTS and the kiss and the acting and the kiss and [crying] the kiss.

3: favorite ship

There are ships that we love for a few months and then let go. Then there’s ships that stay with you long after you watched the show. Then there’s ships that change your life. Then there’s what JD did to me.

But Andy/CJ killed me and continues to kill me, and you’ve successfully convinced me to ship the shit out of the OT3, too.

8: scene you watch over and over again

To be honest, while watching the show I had the remote on my hands and watched everything that made me laugh or just mildly happy multiple times before even allowing the episode to play through.

I mean, the kiss from the cold... I literally just kept replaying it when I got to it. I watched it like seven times before even continued to watch the rest of episode. not just that, but also the shots of them looking at each other at the end.

Also: cj and the turkey. cj and toby and the dead brother. donna and the chicken. that scene in which toby lays his heart out for will about writing because honestly that just too close to home and the recognition hurts but like in a nice way.

But, for real. This entire show was me pausing every five second to rewatch something.

9: plot you pretend didn’t happen

Bartlet giving the go on killing a foreign leader, because political assassination does not sit well with me (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

12: headcanons

ok now you really want me to stay here the whole week. here’s a small list:

- unpopular opinion: josh was actually in love with Amy for a second, there. which is why he’s learned so much from the debacle that was their relationship.

- remember when sam once said “I never knew how much smarter than me he is” when he has to step in for josh as DCoS? that’s when he realised that Donna can keep up with Josh. Which is why he knew, before everyone else, that Donna would leave Josh eventually.

- I can’t remember if this is cannon, but I'm 100% sure josh never even thought of taking the bar. sam will never be over teasing him about it.

- after so many bad christmases, josh really doesn’t like it. but he starts reevaluating his opinions after they he gets married to donna. getting to see the kids light up at both Hanukah and Christmas year after year... let’s just say family has this way of making things feel better.

- cj regularly gets called to guest lecture at Columbia. she regularly declines. but she does accept once. and it changes everything (YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT ALEENA).

#the west wing #az talks tww #az answers #aleena has a tag

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theleagueof13 · 4 years ago

Text

Rewriting the Entirety of SGE: The School Years

All of this is solely up to my own preference. Yes, some parts may be messy because I am inexperienced. I don’t even know what a plot is. Here we go.

I didn’t have any major problem with Book 1 until Agatha’s Glow Up, so we’re starting there.

Canon: Agatha realizes she was beautiful all along and literally two minutes later Tedros falls in love with her.

However, I think it would’ve been so much more impactful if she simply changed her perspective on her “ugliness” from a negative light to an objective standpoint.

We already know that Agatha is badass, so I think she should view herself that way. Insecurity is nothing if she amounts her features to the raw human ability that they possess. Her frame is tall and skinny because she’s athletic, her big eyes serve her the purpose of seeing. Agatha may not be pretty, but every bone in her body was made so that she could eat, breathe, laugh, fight, do parkour around School for Evil.

It’s obvious that Ever Girls only care about their appearance because they want to impress boys (in School for Girls, they are shown as letting themselves go). Agatha is characterized as having no interest in boys, and therefore she doesn’t need to be pretty in the first place. Now, I know that princesses need a prince in order to have their fairytale, but Agatha already thinks that’s bullshit -- why not go against it?

Also, this is extremely minor, but I'd rather have Agatha have some kind of deformity, like a cleft lip or crooked spine. It would really sell the idea that she was different. As a kid, even if Soman screamed in my face that Agatha was canonically ugly, I couldn’t imagine how she could be if the features she was described with were SO normal. Of course, her deformity remains throughout the book, because that is Not Cool if it’s magically removed.

I’ve said this before in my I Don’t Really Like Agatha post, and I’ll say it again. She is ungrateful for the opportunity she could have at School for Good. I’d literally kill to be there, I’d sit through every mind-numbing, subtly sexist class about smiling and posture just so I could practice magic, and I’m sure a lot of people think the same.

[edited: didn’t mean to sound so callous, it’s only an opinion]

Agatha isn’t even using this to expand her power. She uses her wish a total of 2 times in this book, and it’s not like she didn’t have time to use it. It’s disappointing.

So, imagine that Agatha just GRINDS in her school-work. Sure, she fails the challenges related to Strategic Blushing and Matching Outfits, but everything else she excels. At first she just didn’t want to be turned into a plant, she was only studying to survive. Now, it’s more than that.

Agatha is introduced as having a fondness for villains, and it’s apparent that beauty is irrelevant in their success stories. Although she is hurt when Sophie alludes to how she’d “fit in” with the immature, trigger-happy Nevers, she can apply those values of dismissing outer appearances while still being Good. It’s not as if Agatha is greedy or deceitful. She saves the Wish Fish, forgives Sophie countless times, and doesn’t do anything outright vicious. There’s no reason to question that she’s NOT a Never. She can be ugly and an Ever at the same time, wasn’t that the original message?

Hypothetically, she gains more knowledge and strength in spells and potions and such, and just like Sophie, even if everyone doubted her, she could rise through the ranks. There’s no point in worrying about your looks when you’re the most powerful girl in school. (Did I make Agatha too close to Evil? Maybe. But she doesn’t need to push people down to bring herself up, she’s just a natural like that.)

Also, if she needs a boy to ask her out to the Snow Ball, she 100% hates that. She could just talk to Dovey, are they really gonna fail the baddest bitch there?

No. They’re not.

Okay, here’s the biggest part that everyone will hate me for. No Tagatha. At least, not until TLEA.

When Agatha comes out of the Groom Room having just kickstarted her self-esteem and everyone’s drooling, Tedros is attracted to her instantly. I guess that’s fine. Reasonable. But consider this:

Agatha doesn’t love Tedros back.

When Tedros asks her out at the Circus of Talents, she declines. Because if she really knew her own worth, she wouldn’t say yes before making friends with him first. That’s only fair. Actually, I’d say a part of insecurity is settling for any guy who gives you attention (aka Tedros). Y'all are gonna hit me with the damning “We accept the love we think we deserve”.

EVEN IF SHE BELIEVES SHE DESERVES HIM NOW, IT DOESN’T MEAN SHE’LL JUMP AT THE CHANCE TO DATE HIM. THAT’S MESSED UP.

Okay, I know Sophie threw her bitch fit because Agatha was being a hypocrite and dating Tedros. So, tweak that and have Sophie throw a bitch fit simply because Tedros asked Agatha out in the first place. That still makes sense with her entitled selfish personality.

In the stupid war of Evers and Nevers, (which was like, strange considering they’re kids but they’ll have a similar conflict for the next two years), Tedros and Agatha are not together. You could throw in a bit of “Tedros wants to prove to Agatha he’s a hero” but for god’s sakes we are NOT putting in that little chauvinistic “how dare a princess question me”. That one line gave me a bad feeling about Tedros — foreshadowing for AWWP? And it’s crazy that Soman wrote that, along with his lack of brain cells. Are you trying to make readers bully him in memes and instagram group chats? Not from personal experience.

Oh, and this is more of a complaint. But, why did Soman make Sophie bald, pockmarked, and toothless in her transformation of embracing Evil? I thought this was about breaking stereotypes.

The Evil stigma that’s drilled in their heads about being pretty and in general taking care of yourself, is completely inane to me. I can’t believe that Sophie’s “trickery” of Tedros was so revolutionary. None of the Nevers, in 200 years, thought of that?

Instead of her beauty regressing, I’d actually want it to be heightened. It’s what set her apart from the Nevers the moment she walked in. It should be the icing on top of the cake. When Sophie is at her peak of power, she’s a princess. Who could kill you.

If you’re worried about reducing women to be pretty objects or seductresses, stop. It’s okay. Sophie has other powers like summoning ravens, wasps, locusts, bats, using her singing voice for torture, and she is skilled in curses and death traps. In short, the Hot Evil Lady trope works for her. (I think. Someone correct me.)

At the end of SGE, Agatha chooses Sophie over Tedros. Needless to say, Tedros feels betrayed. If you wanted to make him an idiot, with anger issues, daddy issues, and an inferiority complex, this is the easiest way out. He’s under the misguided impression that Agatha belongs with him simply because 1. He loves her. 2. He’s the prince of Camelot, damnit. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?

Not to mention that his father pressured him not to make the same mistake. And Tedros thinks that School for Good is his pool of suitors since Arthur married his classmate Guinevere? There is no line of logic in this man at all, did you miss the part where Guinevere cheats and runs away? Maybe Ever Girls isn’t the only place you should look! There are thousands of other girls in the Woods and you intend to find your soulmate at 14?? Goddamn.

In conclusion, Tedros’ hurt feelings continue to AWWP. Easy.

And if y’all gonna come for me about how Tedros is easily swayed by looks (he’s convinced that Sophie and Agatha are in the wrong schools for half the book) I’d want to make him a bit smarter. I know that’s impossible.

In canon, Tedros turns on Sophie because her true colors showed, and her witchy phase gives him that confirmation bias. He goes feral with testosterone and heroism, as we know.

I’d like him to understand that just because his solely physical attraction to Sophie grew when she’s evil and pretty, it doesn’t mean that she’s not any less dangerous. If Tedros, of all people, learns the difference between appearances vs reality, it would really drive the point home.

All right. You’re still here?

Here’s some extra headcanons you could add in here and here.

In the meantime I’ll think of more.

If there were any hard-hitting themes I was supposed to include, please tell me, I usually gloss over them while reading.

But anyway, thanks for reading this far.

#The School for Good and Evil #School for Good #School for Evil

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