#which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened six times!!
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dixidin ¡ 2 months ago
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I WIN (I had a dream about Deadpool & Wolverine)
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ladyhavilliard ¡ 1 year ago
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So. I think I do fixate on people, huh.
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adri-is-confused ¡ 1 year ago
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Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga), Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: League of Villains (My Hero Academia), Torino Sorahiko | Gran Torino, Sasaki Mirai | Sir Nighteye, Shuuzenji Chiyo | Recovery Girl, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Moashi Juuzou | Centipeder, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Toga Himiko, Hikiishi Kenji | Magne, Iguchi Shuuichi | Spinner, Bubaigawara Jin | Twice, Kurogiri, Sensei | All For One, Yotsubashi Rikiya | Re-Destro, Chisaki Kai, Kurono Hari | Chronostasis, Shie Hassaikai | Eight Precepts of Death, Eri (My Hero Academia), Hatsume Mei, Sako Atsuhiro | Mr. Compress Additional Tags: League of Villains as Family (My Hero Academia), My Hero Academia-Six of Crows AU, Heartrender Himiko Toga, Fabrikator Bubaigawara Jin, Inferni Todoroki Toya, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Kurogiri is Not Shirakumo Oboro, Grisha Powers, Canon-Typical Violence, for both stories Summary:
Tomura only wants one thing. The destruction of the Barrel's so called King. A man only known as All for One. Iguchi Shuuichi, better known as Spinner, grasps onto two things, his knives and a hope to get out of this retched city. Toga Himiko is a Heartrender, runaway, and murderer, but most importantly, she's really cute and fun to be around. Magne is trying. Trying to be herself, trying to lay low, and most importantly, trying to learn that her former home wasn't always right. Dabi sits quietly, but rage simmers in his chest. He just has to wait for the right time to let it blaze. Sako Atsuhiro was living his life as a kind gentleman's thief. Now he would really just like to get out of jail.
AKA, I spent to much time "connecting the dots" and now I'm rewriting Six of Crows with the League of Villains instead of the Crows.
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crossbackpoke-check ¡ 3 months ago
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Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)
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art kid luke hughes
#joy i feel like i should’ve known it would be you wrecking my shit by saying this ->#no one tell me what it’s about i want to think about jack as a fixed point forever#like. please. please. why would you. & also why are these like miyazaki/indie coming of age documentary closed captions u know what i mean#anyway in a moment of brief insanity i thought about the devil!nico snapping his fingers to make jack first overall wherever he wanted#and the concept of things that would always have happened it’s just a matter of how you get there#no matter where your eye starts it always ends there no matter where your threads weave in the web of fate all the knots end up tied. fixed#(nolan going to vegas) it’s just the path you took to get there was a little different is all.#hi. it's me. five+ hours later. remember the brief aforementioned moment of insanity#yeah so we lost it in a completely different directions sorry?#if i had a nickel for every time i entered a hughes brothers induced narrative webweaving fugue state i'd have two nickels#which isn't a lot but relative to the amount i think about them kinda is and also it's weird it happened twice#also i'm not apologizing for hearing “art kid” with fixed point (one perspective? my googling of art terminology did not yield results.#luke baby girl i think you've got the wrong term.) and immediately jumping to science (math and ecosystem management) because. that's art#luke hughes#jack hughes#quinn hughes#vancouver canucks#new jersey devils#my cat would very much like for me to go to bed and snuggle however. i was possessed. (AND i just learned how to do small text)#so now all of you get to have worms for brain at 12:30AM too ok ily good night!!!!!#i lied actually i need to tell you guys things because number one EYE have no idea where this came from number two the things i do know#i have no idea if the red string meme it's all coming together points make any sense to anyone but me. SO FIRST#function defined by itself (43 superscript added by me) it's luke defining fixed point. he's cited.#perspective used to stage narratives!!! the history of perspective in art is honestly so interesting and i think actually this started#because i was trying to find a definition for fixed point in art and couldn't get one but found the article talking about#how historically perspective is used for geometric and architecture in paintings to add reality i.e. vermeer's squares#because our brains are SO hardwired to believe perspective “the illusion of geometric regularity and spatial recession... is nearly impossi#liv in the replies#said more but tumblr ate it bc it was too many tags & now we're on hour six i am not rewriting just know it was good. past/present/future l#it was not well articulated & i wanted to do perspective lines & also it could be better collaged but if it looks bad.. that's a u problem.
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docholligay ¡ 5 months ago
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Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?
Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.
Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!
But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"
Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.
I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.
Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.
But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.
Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.
Also, we don't censor words here.
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endearng ¡ 7 days ago
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Doomed
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: If you and Spencer had a nickel every time someone teased you after witnessing your interactions, you'd have two nickels, which isn't much — but it's weird that it happened twice. WC: 4.4k Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I'm so obsessed with them... in a normal amount of course. I'm thinking about writing casually for them, who knows... Also,,,, who am I if not a morcia truther….. I hope you enjoy it! Feedbacks are always appreciated <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist
You were doomed from the moment he bid you goodbye.
"So, who's he?" Victoria inquired, a sly smirk on her face and a bashful expression on yours.
"Who's who?" You asked, trying to feign nonchalance.
She groaned playfully, "You know what I mean."
"I'm afraid I don't." You winked, sitting on your couch again, between the two women. Sex and the City was playing on the TV across from the three of you.
"You're acting like us as freshmen when the seniors looked at us���" she retorted.
"I thought we didn't talk about that," Jude deadpanned.
"You're 'I don't know what you're talking about' me? I thought we were friends!" Victoria poked you in the rib.
"Ouch! He's just a friendly neighbor, that's it." You said, trying to cut the subject. Jude looked at you suspiciously. "White wine time."
From Spencer's apartment, he could hear the sound of chatter, joyful laughter and opening bottles for the rest of the night. He didn't know how to feel by your invitation, now that he had calmed down after looking you in the eye for a moment, technically, all by yourselves. He would definitely feel inappropriate at a kid's birthday where he barely knew the people who invited him, but he thought that Olivia's gesture was amazingly endearing. What could possibly be more childishly adorable than an infant trying to help and making a 'mistake'? And what could possibly be more devastatingly endearing than a mother taking advantage of said mistake to make it right?
Spencer studied the card for a moment. It fit the palm of his hand, tiny and delicate. It had a different address from yours and the time of the party, all of it lovely handwritten, just like the letters from calligraphy practice notebooks. It seemed like Olivia put a lot of effort in trying to perfect her handiwork. It read:
Hey, it's Oli!
I'm turning six and I want to celebrate it with you!
The contents of the slip of paper were adorned by dainty drawings related to birthdays: party hats, cake, gifts, some decoration and so on. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually becoming closer to the people he always thought lived a perfect life. His mind had a tendency to wander and, for a fleeting moment, he thought about what it would be like to be part of that perfect life.
Olivia was a perfectionist child. He saw the expected behavior of the age in her manners, but the care with her work almost made him think someone else had done it for her. Something told him it wasn't the case, though.
Secured by two magnets, he placed Olivia's birthday party invitation on his fridge. You know, just so he wouldn't forget it — he tried to convince himself.
Everybody knew about his otherworldly memory, but he decided to forget it purposefully.
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"Good morning, good ghost. I didn't see you anymore." Olivia greeted as she saw Spencer in front of the elevator. You were just locking your door closed, hyping yourself up for the week ahead of you when you heard it and a shiver ran down your spine. This, whatever it was, was getting out of hand.
"Good morning, Miss Olivia!" He said, a sweet tone of voice. You melted. "It's true. It's been a while. I was here on the weekend, but it seemed like you had other plans." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She did it in a heartbeat.
"I was with my grandma and grandpa. They took me to the movies and grandpa made me lasagna." She explained as you approached them, adjusting your bag and Olivia's backpack in each of your arms. "Did'ya get my birthday party invitation?"
"Yes, I did! Thank you for inviting me. But, you know, your mother probably needed the rest of them for the other guests." He said as the elevator opened. He gestured for you to enter it first, so you did it with a grateful nod.
"Sorry, mommy. I didn't mean it." Olivia looked at you briefly, ashamed that you would call her out.
"I know, baby, 's okay. Everyone has one now." You assured her with a light tone. Breathe. "Hi, Spencer. Good morning." You said as he joined you in the elevator.
He breathed out, "Good morning. Hi." He had a big smile on his face, standing right next to you, you both facing the door and Olivia in front of you. Internally, he felt like a puppy who had his owners’ undivided attention.
Olivia pressed the button to the lobby. You noticed a book in his hands. Courage. "So, what are you reading, Spencer?"
He gulped. Were you talking to him? It took him a moment to get a grip and realize that he hadn't answered you. Struggling to find the words and suddenly unable to remember what he was actually reading. "Me? I'm just re-reading one of Dostoievski's books. Notes from Underground."
"Dosto-what?" Olivia chipped in.
You looked at her, ready to tell her to not interrupt someone, but couldn't stop yourself from giggling. Spencer watched it fondly. "It's Dostoievski, baby. D'you remember that one book with the 'ugly' cover that mommy was reading the other day?" You asked her, air quoting the word 'ugly'. “It wasn’t ugly. It just wasn’t pink.” You explained it, looking at Spencer. He grinned.
"Yeah. You didn't read to me because it was work." She said, getting distracted with one of her braids.
"Are you a teacher?" He asked, intrigued.
"No. I actually work for a publishing company. Sometimes I have interesting content to revise." You said, a tinge of irony in your voice. He smiled at you, feeling comfortable enough to joke around him without the awkwardness of that first encounter.
The elevator door opened. Olivia jumped out. "I bet it's interesting," was the best he could come up with. Tongue tied.
“Yeah. It’s a good book.”
Like a fucking teenager, he watched as you left with your daughter. Your mixed laughter echoing in the lobby as Olivia spinned around while you carried the weight all by yourself.
He scolded himself for not remembering to offer you help.
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Two days later, a few states over, Spencer sat on a chair at the conference room of the precinct they were working with. The case was exhausting and he just wanted it to be over, but it wasn't that simple. He waited for Derek Morgan — he was his ride that night back to the hotel they were crashing on. He was in front of Derek as he and Penelope talked, her image on the computer screen. The man's nonchalant tone was a riddle for her to unsolve — everyone else was aware that there was definitely something between them (an unspoken dictionary worth of words), even if their interactions were deemed as jokes. Penelope, feeling very shy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her lap after a particular comment about her smile. As she did so, her eyes caught a glance of her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have to go," she murmured, relieved to have a way out of the exchange that had high chances of turning her into a nervous wreck. "I'm so sorry, handsome! Tomorrow is one of my friend's daughter's birthday."
A flash of disappointment crossed Derek's features. Not that she'd noticed. Instead of pressing her, he chose to say, "Need extra energy to keep up with the kids, babygirl?" Ah, there was it. The teasing tone. She was definitely imagining things.
"Not as much as I need to keep up with you, tiger," she replied with a wink, the dynamic between them quickly shifting back to the usual playful banter. Both of them wanted more than playful and far more than banter, but none of them had the courage to admit it, to be straightforward about it. Spencer understood it, really. Speaking made things too real. "But, seriously. I totally forgot to pick up her gift. Olivia loves reading, so I'll go to the mall. I'm glad I already bought it, so I won't get home late."
If he was a dog, Spencer's ears would have definitely perked up from how quickly he associated one thing to another. Could it be the same Olivia? Your Olivia? "Okay, mama. Be safe." Derek said.
"I will," she smiled as she hung up.
Idiots.
Maybe Derek was too serious about the "no profiling each other" rule they set.
"Let’s go, pretty boy," The dark-skinned agent stated. Spencer got up, grabbed his bag and made his way to the elevator with her.
As they chatted about nothing in particular, walking out of the precinct, he desperately wanted to ask him if she truly didn't see past Penelope's sudden shyness. It wasn't in his nature to do that, of course, but as Derek and Penelope were two of the most important people in his life, he wondered why wouldn't they be a thing by now, since they enjoyed themselves so much and were so open about their affections towards one another.
He was quickly ripped away from his thoughts when the man suddenly spoke up, “So, what's your deal lately, Reid? What's she like?"
The doctor choked on his own saliva, which made him cough like crazy. Derek laughed, but tried to help his panicked friend. "What was that, man?" he asked worriedly, once he saw Spencer had finally inhaled a gulp of air.
Face as red as a tomato, cough dying in his throat, "what was what?" Derek returned to his normal self once he noticed his friend was able to finally form a coherent sentence.
"You're gonna act dumb now that you almost died when I talked about her?" Derek questioned, teasing tone, "it was just a lucky guess, but I see you, Reid. You're daydreaming far too often for what's acceptable for the boy genius who's as focused as a laser beam."
Spencer looked straight ahead as they got to the exit. He should have cornered Derek first. "Why would you think it has anything to do with a 'her'?" He chuckled, nervous to be caught red-handed — even if he wasn't doing anything wrong.
Was it wrong to want? He felt like it was. All his life, really. Had no chance to want anything because either was a far too distant reality, person, happiness for him to grasp it or it was ripped away from him too soon, before he could even acknowledge what was happening inside him. That's why want was almost a foreign sensation for Spencer. He had been deprived of it for as long as he could remember.
"Because people get a little dumb when they're in love. At least, ordinary people do. Apparently, so do geniuses," he snickered, his mind also set on teasing Spencer.
Maybe it was dumb to reveal his secret, jaw dropping crush on his cute neighbor, but he wanted some sort of relief to that mess of tangled thoughts inside his head and the strange, to say the least, feelings brewing on his chest whenever he saw you. You barely knew each other. But he supposed it was yet another part of the want he wasn’t familiar with: it didn't need much and it took all consciousness out the door. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest whenever he was on the field, especially since he was often facing danger. The way the events were unfolding were scarily similar to his cases: he noticed you, made up theories based on your behavior and routine, and slowly, oh, so slowly, started to approach you. Not to put you away, but for more personal reasons.
What was different was the feeling in his heart, instead of the sensation of being squeezed painfully inside his ribcage, often leading to ragged breathing, now felt like it was being held delicately by a pair of caring, dainty hands. Either way, his heart was fighting in the frontline and relied on the other part to be calmed and saved. The least he could do was try to be careful, finally opting not saying anything to Derek.
"Just a lot on my mind lately," he chose to say, instead. Derek dropped the subject, too tired to press it further.
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Olivia's party had come to an end an hour ago. You got to see old friends and talked until they got every single ounce of information about your life lately and so did you about theirs. Your daughter had enjoyed her party greatly, and hugged every. single. person. who came to wish her happy birthday and thanked them for being there. She paid little attention to the gifts, too focused on spending time with her friends, playing with them until the sugar rush wore off — all of them had a massive candy intake that day. You didn't spend much time with her, but she promised you that she would unwrap her gifts the next morning with you, the most adorable toothless grin on her face.
Despite everything flowing accordingly, all day long, your stomach churned with anticipation. You wondered if Olivia's dad would show up, since the day she was born was, quote, the happiest of his life. His parents did, and when you looked at them anxiously, his mother shot you a neutral glance. Not a word from his end was its meaning. Your daughter never asked anything about him during the day, which made you even more jittery. You feared she would have a breakdown at any time, so you paid extra attention to her.
It never came.
You had missed the deadline of a book chapter that you had to revise, too caught up on trying to balance everything in your life, so your parents told you they'd stay with her so you could go home to work and take her in the morning. Normally, you wouldn't accept it, but your father had decided you were too tired to wake her to go home, so you complied. Right after the guests left, you did all the steps of her night routine, except for the bedtime story — she was that tired of all the running around in the backyard. You were sure she would sleep all night long.
Once she dozed off, you stood for a moment in her grand-bedroom (she had come up with that and it kind of stuck with you). Your parents had decorated it while you were still pregnant. She needs to feel at home, was what your mother said when you walked in on them assembling her crib. You almost cried, overwhelmed with joy. Your fiancĂŠ, then, had rolled up his sleeves to help out. Oh, the irony.
Her room was full of photographs that held many memories of her six years of life. You could never imagine that you could love this much, let alone dedicate yourself so entirely to someone like you did for her. Even though it was hard and you often didn't feel like you were enough to raise her on your own, Olivia was a wonderful child and her gestures and overall behavior assured you you were doing a good job. The reflection brought tears to your eyes. You drove home by yourself.
Currently, in your apartment, it felt a little too big without Olivia in there — too many books, too many chairs, too much space on your sofa, too many toys scattered around with nobody to play with them. You sighed, deciding on going to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea — you felt like your brain was hammering inside your skull and you still needed to spend time in front of a computer screen. Going back to your small office to wallow in self pity and second guess yourself even as you read whatever material it was, you heard a knock on the door.
You checked your watch. 9p.m. On a Saturday.
Weird.
Through the peephole, you saw someone you truly weren't expecting. "Spencer?" You asked as you opened the door, surprise filling your being. "I didn't think you'd come, I supposed you were at work. I mean, sometimes it feels like you barely have a routine, heh. But, um, thanks for dropping by." You said, a little unfiltered. Not even five seconds in his presence and you were already making a fool of yourself in front of him.
He held a small bouquet of flowers in one of his hands and a gift in the other. To a stranger's eye, it seemed like he had missed your birthday and was trying to apologize for it. You blushed at the thought. He shut his eyes, sorry crossing his features. "I know. I'm sorry I missed it, even though I really didn't want to. You were right, I was away on a case." You smiled, dismissing his apologies and soothing his worries once you did so.
"It's alright with me. She was totally expecting you, though. Kept asking where you were for the first hour. Then she got distracted with candy," you told him, "so she's the one you're gonna need to apologize to." You joked.
"T—that's why I'm here."
"I'm just not sure if Olivia is old enough to get flowers," you said, face serious. His eyes went wide and it took him a moment to understand, but once he looked at your serious expression cracking, his shoulders shook with laughter, with you. If you had more attention, you'd seen the moment his ears turned red.
Your laughter died down. A beat of silence. "These are actually for you." He revealed.
You were stunned. "Oh," you said, suddenly at a loss of words. "Thank you so much."
He gave you the flowers and you gracefully accepted. You were mesmerized by them; colors swimming in harmony before your eyes and the scent making you feel dizzy. Maybe not the scent, but the emotions you were feeling with the surprise. He went out of his way to get you those flowers — it's safe to say that it had been a while since you felt that way. "I—I have no words, Spencer. Really. Thank you so much," your voice choked.
You looked at each other for a brief moment. You tried to show how much you appreciated his gesture. You grinned, trying to get out of that haze, "Do you want to come in? Oli's with my parents, so you won't be able to apologize today," you quipped, making room for him to enter.
"Yeah, I'd love to."
"You can place the giftbox on the coffee table." He went inside, toeing off his shoes in the small space you had before the living room. Once he was there, he saw you enter the kitchen to find a vase. He could see you from where he stood. "Make yourself at home. Do you want some tea? I have Earl Gray."
Your voice was distant as he took in his surroundings. "Yeah, I'd like it." He murmured as he looked around. Your walls were a light gray, adorned with pictures of you and Olivia, some people he assumed were some of your friends. The wall behind the sofa was entirely covered by a big bookshelf that went from one end to the other, filled with books and souvenirs from basically everywhere. The dark wood of the furniture complemented the light walls in a cozy way, some toys and kids books scattered around the floor. The apartment smelled like fresh printed sheets of paper and earl gray tea. You had a few indoor plants that looked well taken care of. Spencer was admiring your degree from Stanford, which hung on the wall beside the TV, almost close to the door.
"One of my biggest achievements. Besides Olivia, of course," you approached him with his mug of tea. Turning to you, he noticed through his peripheral vision that you had placed the flowers inside a vase and in your coffee table.
"Thanks," he said.
"So... are you okay?"
The question caught him off guard. What?
You smiled a little. "You always look kinda tired when I see you," you said, not thinking about how your words might be interpreted. Your eyes widened, realizing it. "I mean, no! Sorry! You're still pretty, don't worry. It's just— I asked because you might be going through something. Forget I said anything about your looks."
He would definitely never forget.
Spencer laughed, flustered, eyes softly gazing at you while you rambled like a madman. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Sometimes my job is a little demanding and I'm forced to see some things that usually people don't even think exist," he confessed.
You bit your lip. "I'm sorry."
"You don't need to be," he retorted, "I have a great team to work with."
"I'm glad to hear that. Sorry I brought it up, you probably don't want to talk about work right now." You said, sipping on your tea.
"Yeah, you're right, again," he chuckled. "How was Olivia's birthday?" He tried a change of subject.
"That was actually the reason I was moping when you got here," you said, trying to force a chuckle. "It was nice, I guess. I was just on edge all day trying to anticipate her emotions regarding her dad, but I guess they never came. At least, not today." You beckoned him to sit with you on the couch, now facing each other directly.
"May I ask why?" He asked, tentatively.
"Why what?"
More hesitance. "Why wasn't he there?"
"From what I know, he moved away." You said, tone unreadable.
He worried that he was overstepping and wasn't sure that he would like to hear more about it. He was scared to find out unpleasant news, such as you still had feelings for him. "I'm sorry." Was all he could muster.
"Don't be. I have a great team," you repeated his words from earlier and he smiled at you.
His brain and tongue didn't seem to be working together that night, he was so avid to know more. "Did you always have support?"
"My parents didn't like the idea of having a single mother when they first heard it. It hit me hard back then, but then I realized it was better to be alone than to stay in an unhappy relationship, especially since Olivia was already in the picture." You said, setting your own mug on the coffee table.
"What happened?" Stop it.
He couldn't help it, he was too curious. It was his first opportunity to truly know the novel sort of family that you had. Apparently, not so much.
"He was distant before leaving. Someone else, maybe?" You asked, rhetorically, a crease between your eyebrows. "I never found out, but I don't want or need to, either. His parents absolutely love Olivia and they were there today, 's all that matters."
"You’re a very strong person."
"I have to be," you said, softly. "You’re a very good listener."
A rush of courage running through his veins. Deciding on not taking the road of unsaid things, like his friends were earlier. Don’t dance around the subject, take the opportunity. Dare. "And you're just as pretty."
The world stopped. You looked at him in disbelief. It didn't last much. A knock on your door. Scratch that: someone banging on your door.
You pinched your eyebrows together. Spencer stood up, almost as if he was doing something wrong. You looked at him, apologizing, "I'm not expecting anyone."
You walked to the door and he stood behind you, telling you he was going to let you be. You didn't want to and you were already chastising yourself from not trying to talk to him and focusing on your problems instead. You opened the door and in the threshold stood Penelope Garcia, gift basket in hands. Before you could speak, both of your guests spoke at the same time.
A mortified "Garcia?" from Spencer.
A surprised "Spencer?" from Penelope.
Finally, a confused "Do you know each other?" from you.
"Yeah. We work together." Spencer replied. "What are you doing here, Penelope?"
"What are you doing here, boygenius?" Her tone now was teasing, a cheshire grin on her face. You were acting confused, but you were loving to see Spencer so out of place.
"I... I was..." He trailed off.
Poor thing. "He came to drop Olivia's gift. We're neighbors." You explained, trying to save him from further embarrassment.
She glanced between you two, eyes full of mirth behind her glasses. "I'm here to do the same." She said, smiling as she handed you the basket, which you took carefully and thanked her with a side hug. "There's her present, sweetcheeks. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, you know how much I miss you and Olivia. But I'm sure our genius told you all about it." Her sentimental words truly held emotion, but she turned her attention to Spencer once again. The opportunity was too good to let go.
Spencer looked like a fish out of water. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. "Garcia, can we talk?" He asked abruptly. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He murmured in a much more soft tone to you.
He could never resume whatever was going on in there because he felt like he had been caught with his pants down.
You were so surprised you didn't even process what was your answer, forgetting to ask if Penelope wanted to come in or anything. "I—Okay. I'll see you, then." With a small smile and slight disappointment in your voice. He all but dashed out of your apartment and took Garcia, who had a mischievous expression on her face, with him. You closed your door and looked at the mix of flowers. A sigh escaped you. Damn, Garcia.
Spencer was escorting Penelope back to her car, ready to bury himself alive because he knew she would run her mouth and knew precisely to whom she would tell about it. And, of course, the endless jokes he would hear during the next few days. "Sooooo..." She trailed off, suggestively.
"I—don't want to talk." She opened her mouth, but had no success in talking. "Not. A. Word."
She entered her car and started the engine as he waited for her to go. But before she started driving, she yelled, "I knew you had it in you, Reid."
From your balcony, work long forgotten, you watched Spencer hide his face in his hands in utter embarrassment.
You were doomed.
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unfinishedslurs ¡ 2 years ago
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party king (steddie)
“You want me to what?”
“Go to a party with me,” Eddie says, looking at Steve like he’s the weirdo here. “What’s the big deal, King Steve? You’ve been to plenty of parties.”
“You know, no one actually called me that,” Steve tells him, abandoning his tapes to put his hands on his hips. “Billy started it. I think he just wanted people to call him a king.”
Eddie visibly considers this before nodding, like it makes sense. Which it does. Billy was, in Steve’s private thoughts, an egotistical maniac who needed to calm down.
May he rest in peace.
“But you’ll come to the party with me, right?”
“Give it up, Eddie,” Robin calls from where she’s rewinding tapes. “Steve hasn’t been to a party in forever. He’s basically a grandpa now.”
“Hey!” Steve objects. That’s rich, coming from her. Going to bed at nine some nights so he gets a few more hours of sleep before waking up in a cold sweat does not make him a grandpa. It just makes him traumatized  
“Steeeeeeeve,” Eddie whines, widening his eyes until it looks like they’re going to pop out of his sockets. His exaggerated pout isn't going to do him any favors either. No matter what the kids say behind his back (looking at you, Henderson) he isn't a pushover.
“Why would I want to go to a high school party?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “I graduated. I have better things to do with my time.”
“Like lose arcade games to freshmen?” Robin asks. He flips her the bird.
“Please, Steve?” Eddie asks. “Pretty please? Pretty pretty please, with cherries and whipped cream and six little nuggets on top?”
“What the hell are you even saying anymore?”
“You want him to eat his babies?” Robin shrieks. “Like Kronos? Is one of them going to cut off his head and free the rest?”
Eddie’s eyes light up, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t know who that guy is, and he doesn’t want to deal with the two of them chattering over whatever movie villain he’s assuming is in their weird cult classic films when he still doesn’t know why Eddie is asking him to this party.
He doesn’t even flinch when Eddie licks his hand.
“I’ve been slobbered on by actual monsters,” he says flatly. “Your spit has zero effect on me.”
Eddie bats his eyes and gives his palm a kiss, right where he’d laved his tongue. Steve rolls his eyes and wipes his hand on the side of Eddie’s face.
“Hey!”
“Don’t dish what you can’t take,” Steve says. “Now, why exactly am I getting asked to go to a high school party?”
“Jessica Roberts needs some kush, and she asked me to sell there.”
“Okay? Still not answering my question.”
“There’s gonna be jocks at the party,” Eddie finally confesses, “and I don’t know if they’ll try shit. But given my track record lately…”
“So you need a bodyguard?”
“Hey!” Steve shouts, and is summarily ignored by everyone. So he does what any normal person would do, and slams an abandoned beer bottle against the edge of the counter so it shatters. 
The jocks turn and look at him after that.
Steve glances down at the jagged edges of the bottle in his hands, flipping it like it’s his old ice cream scoop. Yeah, this should work. 
“Leave him alone,” he says, steely inflection to his voice. 
“Or what, Harrington?” One of them asks. “Heard you just been sittin’ in this room all night. What, you hanging around the queers now? Didn’t take you for a f-”
He stops talking when Steve grabs him by the hair and presses the broken bottle against his throat.
“Here’s what's gonna happen,” he says quietly, taking a look at his buddy. He’s let go of Eddie, a lot more spooked now that his friend is shaking in his Nike’s. “You’re going to leave this room. You’re going to leave Munson here alone. You’re not going to bother him, or anyone else in his dragon club ever again. If I hear that you or your little friends are fucking with him, I have a very nice nail-studded baseball bat in my trunk I’d be more than happy to introduce you to. Capisce?”
“Woah, woah, woah,” the guy that was holding Eddie says. “What the hell, Harrington?”
Steve doesn’t break eye contact with the guy he’s threatening. “Capisce?” He asks again, putting a little more force into the word.
“C-capisce.”
“Good,” he says, shoving him away. “Now get outta here.”
They scramble away. Steve walks over to the trash can and throws away the remains of the bottle, running a hand through his hair. He finally turns around to see Eddie staring at him with wide eyes, frozen.
“Sorry-”
“Fuck me.”
“What?”
Eddie’s entire face flushes, like he didn’t mean to say that. “Uh.”
Steve looks at him, and then around the kitchen they’re in. Glass and beer on the floor, music blasting loud enough to set him on edge, a crowd of people that look at him like a zoo exhibit. Fuck, his head hurts. 
“Yeah, okay,” he decides. “We’re going to mine, though.”
“Wh-what?” Eddie looks like a deer in headlights, even though Steve’s offering exactly what he asked. 
“I…have no idea what I’m doing,” Eddie confesses. 
“Oh, are you not…” He trails off, gesturing towards Eddie’s back pocket. “I assumed…”
Eddie laughs abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth like he startled himself with it. “You know hanky code, Harrington?”
“Can you call me Steve when you’re in my bed?” He’s already got his shirt off, for God’s sake. “Listen, man, if you don’t want this, it’s no biggie.” He starts to get off, and Eddie’s hand clamps over his thigh. 
“No, no, no, don’t you dare. Just gimme a minute, I’m processing.”
“Processing,” he repeats flatly. 
“Yes, processing. I’ve got the guy of my extremely virginal wet dreams shirtless on top of me. I did not think this would ever happen. I didn’t even know you were queer until tonight.”
Steve’s mouth shapes into an “o” of understanding. “You’re a virgin?”
“Jesus, could you focus on anything else I said?”
“You dream about me?”
“Let’s go back to the virgin part.” His fingers start nervously tapping against Steve’s leg. 
“You’re not subtle,” Steve says flatly. “I know when you stare at my ass.”
Eddie colors in a flood of bright red. “What if I wasn’t? What if I was…uh, jealous or something?”
“I guess that’d make sense, since you’re flat as a board.”
“Wh—hey!”
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chrrychills ¡ 2 months ago
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Hi!!!! Do you think you could do SBG main six with a really affectionate S/O? Like there S/O is always around them and most of the time is clinging onto them in one way or another. Examples: hand holding, pinky holding, hugging there arm, hugging them, leaning on them, random kisses.
baby, tell me what you need .
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main six ÂŤ affectionate s/o!
ashlyn banner:
•she's not into affection at all. ashlyn gets uncomfortable when people are in her personal space, especially in public. she'll hold your hand/ pinkie while around others, but that's pretty much it. maybe she'll let you lean on her shoulder if you're tired, and that's a big maybe.
•in private, though, she's a little more affectionate but it isn't by much. when you two are alone, she doesn't mind cuddling and kisses much. if it's excessive, she'll find a way to nicely tell you to tone it down.
•the longer you two are dating, the more you end up adjusting to each other. she gets more comfortable with physical affection, and you get better at understanding her boundaries and when she doesn't want to be touched. you two end up being really in sync with the other's emotions.
•the only time she shows affection beyond hand holding is when you're hurt/in danger. if there was a close call or you got injured, she'll definitely wrap you in a pretty tight hug while scolding you/ apologizing, depending on what happened.
•overall, she gets used to your affectionate tendencies and eventually grows fond of them.
aiden clark:
•aiden's big on physical touch, so your affection is definitely welcome. be prepared to always be touching in some way– wether that's cuddling or just holding hands.
•in all honesty, he's probably the one to initiate affection most of the time. he'll stop if you tell him to, but if you don't he's practically attached to your side the entire time you two are together.
•a huge cuddler. although he's hyper, he can knock out in seconds if you're cuddling and playing with his hair.
•he literally never gets embarrassed, so he doesn't care if people think the affection is weird or gross. he's also lowkey whipped so it just might not occur to him.
•the longer you two are dating, the more normal he gets about affection. it's a lot more casual and subtle then it was at the beginning of the relationship, but it's aiden so he's obviously still touching you in some way.
•he's annoying and likes to stick his foot in your face, especially when you're concentrating on something and he wants your attention. it usually works, too.
ben clark:
•he's internally freaking out every. single. time. it doesn't matter what you're doing– holding hands, holding his arm, kissing his cheek, anything. he's a mess.
•he gets better at handling the affection a couple months into the relationship, but he's still lowkey giddy and it's hilarious. aiden's on his case about it constantly, which doesn't really help.
•ben isn't one to initiate affection, just because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. it doesn't bother him when you do it, but he'd be beating himself up for weeks if he accidentally did something you were comfortable with.
•he doesn't initiate a lot of affection, but what he will initiate is hugs. expect a lot of them– not that you can complain. ben gives the warmest, softest, most comforting hugs known to man. you could literally fall asleep standing while hugging him.
•100% a pinkie holder. he won't give a reason as to why he prefers it over holding hands, but you do it anyway because he always smiles a little when you wrap your pinkie around his, and it's worth the sight.
tyler hernandez:
•at the beginning of the relationship, he has a hard time accepting, much less reciprocating any type of affection in public. he isn't embarrassed, he's just nervous of making a fool of himself.
•he does a complete 180 when you two are alone, though. wether your studying, making food, sleeping, etc etc etc. if he isn't touching you somehow, he'll pout until you hug him.
•he gets better with PDA the longer you date, but it's still subtle. he'd rather perish than be the overly-touchy couple that people hate. the most affection in public is hand holding and cheek kisses when picking you up/dropping you off. maybe a quick peck on the lips if you haven't seen each other in a while.
•the cuddle bug. he loves cuddling, especially if he's in a bad mood. there's been multiple times where he's dragged you into bed and didn't let you leave until he felt better. also lowkey forced you to play with his hair, but you don't mind because he might as well start purring with how content he is.
•cheek kisses! he thinks they're cute, and he thinks you're cute. so in his mind, you = cheek kisses.
taylor hernandez:
•she loves your affection. she lives for it, and will reciprocate every time without fail.
•chronic hand squeezer. it helps her stay grounded when she's stressed, upset, or scared. you two 100% squeeze each other's hand three times to say 'i love you' without actually saying it.
•forehead kisser. she thinks it's sweeter and more intimate than anything else. her dad used to kiss her forehead to comfort her when she was a kid, so she doesn't it to you in hopes of providing you with that same comfort.
•she loves when you kiss her hands. knuckles, palms, wrists, it doesn't matter. since she does mechanics, her hands get kind of roughed up. she'll melt when you kiss any cuts, bruises, or callouses she may have.
•also a big cuddler, but not as much as her brother. she likes to take an hour or two when you can to just lay in bed, holding each other and whispering stories and quiet i love you's.
lacey's notes:
i officially don't write logan anymore. sorry to those who love him, i just feel like my writing doesn't do him justice.
tumblr has deleted this draft four fucking times the stupid cunts.
not edited because if i have to spend another minute on this i'm deleting my entire blog.
title inspo:
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barbwritesstuff ¡ 11 months ago
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Thicker Than December Update
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The update link:
Thicker Than Free Demo
Update info:
As of the 26th of December 2023
Finished Chapter Six
Started work on Chapter Seven (currently incomplete)
Added explicit scene with Freya in Chapter Four
Several bug and spelling fixes
Additional Words: 27,104 (excluding commands)
Total Word Count: 175,440 (excluding commands )
Other links:
Supporting me on KoFi helps ensures my ongoing survival, which I really do appreciate.
You can email me at barbara truelove writes at g mail dot com.
I have a website that I spent actual money on. I'm not sure why, but it's pretty.
If you like the way I write vampires maybe consider checking on the first story in this series, Blood Moon, which is about werewolves and is polished and pretty in a way this very much isn't.
Other free games can be found on my itch.io page.
My ramblings:
Merry Christmas and happy full moon. I really hope, wherever you are in the world, you’re having a great day. I won’t be able to see the moon tonight thanks to a circling storm cloud, but I’m hoping it’ll clear up tomorrow and I can do some stargazing.
I’ve managed to get quite a few words down this month, so I’m really happy about that. Chapter Six is finished, and I’ve started work on Chapter Seven. Chapter Seven is still in the early stages. Depending on your previous choices, it may not even exist yet on certain playthroughs. I’m sorry about that. It’s going to take some time to fill in all the different routes and bring them all together again.
I’ve also gone back to Chapter Four and added some more content in for Freya because several people told me they weren’t really vibing with her romance arc. I’m really glad I did that because I think speeding up her romance route makes a lot of sense and it flows better overall.
I’ve also done a lot of little edits scattered throughout. Nothing super major, but I hope it improves the flow of certain scenes.
On a more technical note: I’ve been having a weird issue with the automatic Choicescript tests in CSIDE. The random_test has been slowing to a crawl and/or freezing. It doesn’t spit out any errors, and the quick_test has been working fine, so I’m really not sure why this has started to happen. It may mean there is an infinite loop error somewhere in Chapter 6 or 7. If so, I haven’t been able to find it. If anyone encounters a page that loads forever but doesn’t show any text, please let me know. The game won’t be able to be submitted to Hosted Games if it can’t pass a random_test, so I really want to sort this out sooner rather than later.
If you spot any other errors, large or small, I’d be really grateful if you could let me know. Thicker Than is big enough now that it’s a little unwieldy to navigate, and hard to edit. I’m really grateful to the people who’ve taken the time to send me things which don’t look quite right. It’s so insanely helpful and really encouraging knowing you’re rooting for Thicker Than to succeed.
💙
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mozillavulpix ¡ 16 days ago
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Okay, the Six Sparkles Theory
aka: the best theory so far that Satoru and Daifuku are Precure and will transform in the TV show
disclaimer: i am not an expert. i'm just someone with a lot of copium and the ability to search twitter. i don't even speak japanese.
The original source:
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(this account posts a lot of theorycrafting like this)
You can translate some of that if you want, but the strongest part of this whole little essay to me is this
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After the final transformation pose, a big ribbon appears and then splits into six little sparkles
That by itself doesn't necessarily mean "there'll be six Precure", but there's a few things that support it.
First is that there's a weird amount of empty space in the scene of them all holding hands before doing this pose where you could easily fit one or two more people joining in.
The second is the symbols that appear themselves: two paw prints, two ribbons, what looks like a five-petalled flower and a circle.
It seems like a random group of symbols that have nothing to do with each other, but it actually lines up perfectly with the four members and even the rabbit boys from what we saw of them in the movie.
Basically the symbols correspond to what their 'shield' attacks look like.
Wonderful and Nyammy have paw-prints, Friendy has a ribbon, and Lilian has a 'net' that looks like a five-petalled flower.
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Which leaves one ribbon and the circle left. But does it correspond to them? From what's shown in the movie, yes.
According to Japanese fans who have watched the movie like 6 times (if this really does happen, I think the otaku deserve a lot of credit for funding this movie lmao), Daifuku and Satoru's attack looks a bit like this
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The idea I guess being that it's like a combination of what Daifuku and Satoru's normal 'shield' attacks would be. Which isn't that weird, they've done combination attacks in the TV show like that too.
But basically it's saying Satoru's shield would be ribbon-shaped, like his girlllfriendddd
and Daifuku's I don't know, it's all 'wrapped up' so it's hard to tell what shape it would be if it's used as a straight shield, but maybe it's a circle like a full moon and moon rabbits and that symbolism. It's very clearly a closed shape at least.
also daifuku wouldn't have a paw shield like Wonderful and Nyammy because
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thanks for the animal facts, satoru
so yeah
we put that together and at the very least, the group pose has room for satoru and daifuku. And it fits with what was very briefly seen of them in the movie.
so that's why i've still got hope
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malaierba ¡ 6 months ago
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Remember that it was explicitly stated that Toshiro was trained in ninjutsu?
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(HE WAS SIX. LIKE, BY THE WAY)
(the way he has that fucking flashback always sends me btw. I know my man felt the floor sink and everything)
And most of people trained under his family's residence are ninja-coded. Since his dad has those dark, ambiguous links with powerful people, so he's likely the same.
So why is Toshiro's attire and fighting style like a samurai's?
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Strictly speaking, ninjas were essentially historical mercenaries, and samurai were nobles who fought under the shogunate without a fee. They were famously guided by the Bushido Code, while ninjas were expected to be shady and fight dirty.
Essentially opposites. Which makes me think that there's a few likely intentions behind that choice:
Maybe she just wanted to drive home more clearly the culture clash between laishuro. Like Toshiro just so happened he wanted to dress like a samurai in his adventure. Maybe he's trying to avoid being recognised? Could be, but I don't think that's it
Maybe Toshiro's training and general upbringing changed as his dad became more influential. Maybe there was a possibility that he could marry up, or get adopted into noble society, who knows, thing is there was a political reason that justified trying to raise Toshiro so he's more of a diplomat than his dad probably is. But then that'd mean that his dad regretted the switch when he deemed his son "a dull man"? I'm 50/50 here, there's always a possibility that in this fantastic alliteration of Japan has some overlaps between samurai and ninja, and maybe ninjas can be nobles after all. Feels too counterintuitive to be logical though.
Maybe it's meant to highlight how different Toshiro is from his family. So visually, it singles him out and associates a certain set of values with him; And then within the story, it lends itself to some compelling ideas like: Did he do it on purpose, was it somehow decided for him as a weird punishment or something? If he did it on purpose then that'd be the very first big decision he took for himself, to say "I want to embody this". Very bold of him since it sends a clear message to everyone. It'd be kind of cool if he made the switch after his father accused him of being dull. He could feel responsible for inheriting the family and having a lot of people to his charge, but at the same time he has such a negative opinion of the type of leader his father is that the only way to reconcile his conscience would be to become the new head of the family but also lead completely different to his dad. OR maybe it was a silent way to say that he never felt like being in that position of leadership anyway. Quietly quitting, in a way? Or maybe it didn't even happen consciously. Toshiro naturally seeked role models that embodied a type of man that he could actually look up to, and slowly molded himself to that standard, for better and for worse. Strong sense of responsibility and all that.
I guesssss it could be that Toshiro's family really is nobility, but they train their servants in all of those special skills as a private bodyguard force? Hien expected Toshiro to propose to her, would that union be allowed if Toshiro's family was nobility? It's even said in one of the art books that the reason why Toshiro's dad didn't marry Maizuru is because he met her after marrying his wife. Besides, why train Toshiro in ninjutsu too? And then there's those moments when it's hinted that he's familiar with some darker dynamics. I keep thinking about how he knew what Laios group had to do in order to lose the cops fkdkkd. Anyway I can see the logic in the argument, I'm just not sure Toshiro's family isn't hiding something sus. I see it as very mafia coded. Honestly, that might be just it
In any case, it does overlap some interesting elements on Toshiro. There's an expectation on him from his family, the way the household projects an image of strength but also some shadiness, that contrasts with how he presents himself, how he's treated by his charges, how the image he projects is of a mild mannered, stoic, diplomatic man.
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abyssalzones ¡ 10 months ago
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C-PTSD as a diagnosis makes so much sense for Ford because he really does fit almost all of the criteria, ESPECIALLY if you take the stuff in J3 into account in conjunction with his traumatic childhood (bullying, bad dad, etc.). It just makes sense in regards to his motivations and his issues with interpersonal relationships (like with Stan). Also buring yourself in your work (like he does) is a very common 'flight' coping mechanism to trauma in adults
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I'm smiling like this right now
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ford's whole.... mental health deal is extremely interesting to examine because Oh my god this man is the textbook image for "reacting to ongoing, continuous trauma". intentional or otherwise (I'm inclined to believe it's both).
like. okay hang on I'm about to get very in depth with it
I feel like there's no way this entire guy's life and in some ways his lasting identity haven't been defined by and constructed around various forms of trauma, maybe the most obvious and true-to-canon-intent being peer abuse/bullying from childhood. a lot of people downplay the impact of this type of abuse but it's... responsible for a lot of social ills in shocking ways. (if you're more interested in this topic here is an article my friend mer linked me a while back, it gets into it very deeply)
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(a lot of this is going to be sourced from the wikipedia page for CPTSD [and my own experience Living with it] which I realize isn't very professional of me but Whatever this is tumblr)
one of the core tenets of ford's personality is that he's Different. he owns it, sure- his six fingers become a point of pride rather than something to be ashamed of- but they make it extremely clear that from a young age he associated being different with being a social pariah. ford's generation was characterized by notoriously cruel bullying, and anything that remotely made you stand out rendered you a target. ford could've been bullied for being nerdy and jewish (and failing to perform socially, ie dating) alone, having such an obvious mutation definitely was not winning him any points.
so it's honestly no surprise, when from childhood ford feels like he has One person in the world to trust and confide in, that he would go on to form very unhealthy attachment patterns typical of CPTSD. as you elaborated on regarding AvPD (which I know far less about but seems to have comorbidity with CPTSD): if you're hard-wired to believe socializing with others results in failure or betrayal, then you're not going to make an effort. but what does end up happening is that you're going to pour all of your trust and dependency into one person at a time, one person who is "safe".
previously, that was his brother. and it's not really hard to draw the conclusion from there that fiddleford was a subject of ford's attachment style, considering he was his One friend from college, and... one of Maybe two people ford is friends with at all who he isn't related to. he cites him as the only person he can possibly trust to work on the portal project alongside him, and he still can't bring himself to tell him the full truth, because he's terrified of losing him. I love their dynamic (I do think they were mutual best friends, and there was no small amount of trust reciprocated between them. "fiddleford was weird as hell too" is something I keep coming back to) and I don't think it's built on entirely unhealthy terms, but that kind of pressure is... setting things up to crash and burn.
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enter bill stage left. back to "continuous yearning to be liked and accepted"- this guy knew that and made every effort to prey on ford's insecurities to reel him in as close as possible. this is what really pisses me off about the idea that bill was just "inflating ford's ego", because it's way, way more insidious than that. throughout the entirety of journal 3 we see ford reintroduce someone to his life he has a very positive relationship with (fiddleford) and how that trust gets gradually broken down by bill's influence "winning out" over their friendship. I think it's safe to say ford was already vulnerable: from the start, he'd been isolated in his research for six years (and it's unclear for how long he'd known bill by 1982), and bill proved time and time again to be someone who wouldn't judge him, someone who would praise him for his hard work, and perhaps most critically, make him feel like being different was something special.
like that's... that's really not good!!!! and that kind of thing works wonders on someone who has already settled with the idea that they're inclined to be alone just by design.
trying to put a cap on this. in relationships like the one he's had with his brother or fiddleford it doesn't even necessarily have to be ""toxic"" (vague term anyway) or outwardly bad to be built on unhealthy attachment patterns, and considering for a good chunk of ford's life his attachment to others can be characterized as "I can only trust ONE person at a time" it feels essential to any discussion of his CPTSD or canon trust issues. That is something that happens a lot in Real cases of CPTSD (hi) and only further snowballs into More trauma by leaving you vulnerable to manipulation and abuse (see: bill.)
I've been going on for way too long now and I feel like I've only scratched the surface of the thing I wanted to elaborate on sorry. that post traumatic stress disorder can complex
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blueepink07 ¡ 1 year ago
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Passage of time in Milgram is very weird and hard to understand. Although for some characters there are some visibile changes like hair growth and, despite that in timeline conversation they celebrate their birthdays, their age is the same. One might say that it is just a choice made my creators, simply because in TV shows or games characters usually maintain their age. However, at the beginning of the trial 2 they updated the profile, so wouldn't it make sense to also change it, considering that Es is sleeping for a few months and how long the trials themselves last...? An aspect that seems to be more than once pointed out, which indicates that the time is not passing much different than ours.
"Yuno: Good morning, Guard-san. My name is Kashiki Yuno… Did you remember that properly?"
"Fuuta: …Kajiyama Fuuta. It’s been a while, Guard. What were you doing until now..?"
"Muu: I’m Kusunoki Muu. Guard-san, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?"
"Shidou: I’m Kirisaki Shidou. It’s been a while, Es-kun. While you were gone, a lot of things happened."
"Mahiru: …Shiina Mahiru. It’s been a long time, Es-kun… I wanted to see you…"
"Kazui: Good morning. (Laughs) Guard-kun is a sleepyhead, aren’t you? I’m Mukuhara Kazui. Do you remember now?"
"Mikoto: Ah, Guard-kun. It’s been a while. Ow, ow ow… My head hurts…"
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Jackalope also points out that the MVs are posted at the same time when Es extracts them.
Merch is also a good indicator that states that their age is the same.
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Amane and Es didn't grow up further, them being the ones for we should see more visibile changes, the only thing different is the lenght of the hair for some characters.
But hair is something that grows really fast, so considering that Milgram began like three years ago, since the beginning of the first trial and now, their hair should be more longer! I doubt that many of them considered cutting it or cared enough about it especially the guilty prisoners...
Because the characters don't seem to suffer much physical changes, a question arose in my mind. If that's the case, than doesn't it mean that their bodies are also healing very, very slow?
It is over a year since the beginning of the second trial and Shidou admits that he has to constantly take care of Mahiru.
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Which seems quite odd, doesn't it? Considering her injuries, if not fully recovered, Mahiru should at least feel better, something that doesn't seem to be the case...
Neck sprain -> time to recover (4-6 weeks usually, a severe one 3 months)
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Rib fractures -> 12 weeks without fixation, six months or one year after surgery
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Fractured arm -> 12 weeks with still some discomfort
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Compression fractures -> 8 weeks or more if surgery is needed
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Lacerations -> dependes a lot of how bad the wound is, but most of them heal earlier than 3 months
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Mahiru should have been much better, but she isn't, despite that most injuries require 3-4 months for her to have a better condition...
Fuuta, who Shidou doesn't mention a lot, despite also suffering from injuries, I don't think is doing any better. Although, in his case, most of the injuries require surgery, something that Shidou can't currently do.
Orbital fracture and retinal detachment -> requires surgery in most cases
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Chest injuries depending on how severe they are can heal in 6 weeks. However, considering that Fuuta is in a lot of pain, with how difficulty he is sometimes speaking, makes me believe that he needs surgery even here.
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What makes me worried is how, despite receiving care from Shidou, especially Mahiru, there aren't a lot of changes in their condition during the trial. It's like their bodies can't heal, they are stuck in time. Which will surely be a big problem for the next trial, if someone else gets injuried... It also makes me wonder if Mahiru and Fuuta will truly be better at the beginning of the next trial...
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yawneneteyam ¡ 1 year ago
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ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter five — barely surviving
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summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [2.3k].
pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters
notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. anxious teenagers, first kiss nerves, this chapter probably being too short.
masterlist ⎸ chapter four | chapter six
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2017.
"IS IT YOUR first kiss?"
".. maybe"
you were sat across from sigourney in her hotel room. the entire day on set, she could tell that there was something off about you today. you messed up your lines, forgot blocked parts of scenes and barely knew which way was up.
the entire day you had been sitting on the fact that next week you would be kissing jamie. it wasn't like you thought kissing was a massive deal, you were sixteen, you knew lots of people had already had their first kiss.. you hadn't.
but you knew a first kiss is supposed to be special. you guess it would be in a way. it would be with jamie, and to you, that's pretty special.
he was quickly becoming your best friend. jamie knew almost everything about you and you were rarely separated. so if your first kiss was going to be with jamie, so be it. that wasn't the part that was worrying you.
what was worrying you is that it would change your friendship. would it become awkward once you kissed? would you have to practice the kiss? redo it over and over until james was happy with the shot? probably, he was a perfectionist. kissing your best friend isn't something many people would be comfortable with, what if jamie was one of those people?
"so is that why you're worried?" sigourney asked. she had brought you back to her trailer, saying she needed to ask you a question. she hadn't stopped interrogating you about what was wrong since. "you're worried because it's your first kiss? kissing is easy, only the boys mess it up" she smiled.
you chuckled lowly at her comment. knowing that she had shot plenty of on-screen kisses in her time as an actress, and that you would also probably have your fair share if your career continued the way it was going. but the first one, was going to be daunting.
"it's not that it's the first," you led, pausing for a sigh, "it's that it's with jamie- not like, 'ew jamie'-" you pulled a face- "but more like 'oh.. jamie', what if things get weird after?"
"weird?" she asked.
"what if we can't really be friends after?" you shrugged, getting embarrassed you shook your head and continued to speak, "like what if it's super awkward and he doesn't wanna talk to me outside of work anymore? i don't want that to happen," you looked up to her.
"sweetie," sigourney sighed, coming over to sit next to you instead. she grabbed your hand and enveloped it with hers. "you say you want him to talk to you outside of work, right?" you hummed a response. "that's all it is.. work" she smiled. "you both are here to do a job, to act, it's just pretend," she shrugged.
you sat with her words. she was right. you were here because you're professionals. professionals who had a job to do, one that involved kissing each other, but a job no less. it was just another day on set, nothing to worry about.
“you think he thinks that too?” you crossed your legs and held them close to your chest, suddenly feeling a little too vulnerable. 
“sweetheart,” she queezed your hand, “if he doesn’t.. hes in the wrong profession” she laughed, you laughed too. you couldn’t help it really. the anxieties that sat on your chest were now fading after hearing what sigourney had to say. 
it’s just a part of the job.
“should i talk to him about it?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.
“if you want to, if that makes you feel more comfortable course you can” she nodded, “he would want you to tell him how you feel”.
you nodded, thinking on it. “he’ll be in his room now, he’s probably with filip though” you shrugged, your brain throwing excuses out involuntarily.  “do it when you feel is right,” sigourney smiled. you nodded and leant into her arms, letting her hold you for a little. “i know it’s initimidating, but you will kill plenty of guys in this field of work. you’re gonna be fine,” she put her head on top of yours, you rested in the crook of her neck and she rubbed your arms. “wait for the right time,” she said.
on the wooden coffee table in her room, your phone buzzed. signourney let you go and you reached over and laughed when you saw the notification.
[📱 jamie flatters: ]  going to the pool w filip, jack, and duane. come with?
“what?” signourney smirked.
“i think i found the time,” you chuckled, showing her the notification.
this weekend, the cast had a day off from filming, so majority of you were put up in a hotel for the weekend. where there is a hotel in manhattan, there is most likely- almost always- a pool. 
the boys were obsessed with it. coming from london, jamie never got to really grow up swimming in pools or the beach, the weather never proved nice enough to. so whenever he could make use of a pool, he would. the days in manhattan were getting hotter as the summer season began. the humidity was tough to get through, the boys were more than happy to utilise the pools late opening hours when they could.
after leaving sigourney’s room, you headed down to your own on the floor below, the one you shared with bailey, jack and duane. jamie, trinity, filip and britain on the floor above yours. you got changed into your swimsuit, grabbing a towel from the hotel’s bathroom and wrapped it around yourself. 
you rode the elevator along down to the first floor and headed towards the pool. the lights illuminated the water and a blue hue shone on the ground in the night sky. you spied your castmates in the pool, splashing each other, duane shouting something about jamie ‘being a bitch’ before dunking him under the water. jack and filip both yelled something before jumping on top of the other two boys. that’s all they were.. boys having fun.
you clicked open the gate and closed it behind you, sitting down on a sun lounger and watched it unfold, the job of making sure that no one died had fallen onto your shoulders as the boys continued to wrestle. when duane popped his head up for a second he noticed you sitting there. 
quickly, he pulled the other boys out of the water, jamie being the last one to break the surface. they all stared at you like they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have… which i guess, they had been.
“oh hey..” jamie panted, water dripping off his face, “nice of you to join us”.
“shut up,” you brushed him off, “i was with sigourney”.
“boring!” jack shouted, jamie splashing him in the process. 
“sooo..” filip dragged out, pursing his lips, “are you gonna get in or just sit there like a wet mop?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“oh shit,” jamie nodded.
“wow,” duane chuckled.
“a wet mop?” you repeated, nodding your head at filip.
“you gonna sit there and take that y/n?” jamie asked, looking back over at you.
“no she’s not,” jack chipped in.
“i’ll show you a wet mop, geljo” you stood up and dropped your towel- “when i put my foot in your face,”- you said before jumping into the pool with them all.
the night flew by, jack and duane were the first to bow out. jack convinced that his lips would turn blue if he sat in the water for any longer. filip left soon after, slyly sending jamie a thumbs up and a smirk when you looked away from him. so, after an hour or so of swimming and playing chicken in the pool, it was just you and jamie.
you debated getting out, you really did. but the water was so warm and jamie looked so relaxed resting his back against the water’s edge. so you decided to sit there together for a little while longer. maybe this was the right time that sigourney was talking about.
but to your surprise, jamie spoke first.
“did you see the scene roll out for next week?” he asked. his voice was trading lightly on the topic. as if he had been thinking about it as much as you had. 
you hesitated before responding, “yeah, um- i did”.
“how do you feel about that?” he asked, looking down into the water and avoiding your gaze. you couldn’t fault him, you were essentially doing the same thing as him. avoiding eye-contact.
“um..” you shook your head slowly, searching for an answer and hoping that one would just pop out at you. “i don’t know really.. i’ve never-“ you sighed, closing your eyes. “well, i’ve never kissed anyone so..” you shrugged. 
jamie finally turned to look at you. he noticed that way you looked smaller, embarrassed of the fact. “you know that’s not a bad thing, right?” he asked.
you stuttered, “no, no, no. i know that, but um- i just- i just wanted to make sure that you, um- knew? i don’t know,” you shrugged. your words were falling out at a rate more rapid than usual, jamie picked up on it. 
“y/n” he stopped you. you sighed, taking a second before slowly turning your head to look at him. you met jamie’s gaze and held it like a conversation. you were talking to each other in there somehow, it was as if he seemed to understand what you were thinking in that moment. “it doesn’t matter than you haven’t kissed anyone, you know that yeah?” 
you turned away, “i mean.. yeah?” 
“so why are you freaking out?” he asked, “it’s alright” jamie nodded.
you sniffed, the water making your nose run a little. you ran your hand through your hair before looking back at him. “our friendship.. it will never be like it was before” you said. “what if.. what if we kiss and then we like stop being friends or something,” jamie watched as another sigh escaped your chest, he saw how much this had been weighing on you.
“you’re so silly,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes at you. “we could never not be friends, especially over something like that,” jamie wanted to make sure you heard what he was saying, “y/n, you’re one of my closest friends.” you heard that part. “and i wouldn’t like something like a little kiss, that we literally get paid to do by the way, mess up our friendship,” he chuckled.
you let out an exhale as a laugh, softly nodding afterwards. “you promise?” you asked. jamie looked down at you, a smile on his face, knowing that you already knew what his answer would be. 
“you’re stupid if you think i don’t,” he leant his head back, his smile became a kind smirk. 
the silence between you two soon returned, allowing you both to sit with your newfound clarity of your scene for next week. sigourney was right, it’s just a job. as you let your body relax in the pool, you felt yourself becoming more sleepy as the minutes slipped away into the night. you yawned, covering your face.
“come on,” jamie stood up and held out his hand.
“you wanna go?” you looked up at him in surprise. he scoffed at your demeanour. 
“that’s like the fourth time you’ve yawned in a minute, you need to go to sleep”.
you shook your head with a smile before taking jamie’s hand and allowing him to help you stand up in the shallows of the pool. the cool night air pierced your skin, you were lucky that jamie was quick to hand you your towel. you thanked him quietly as you shivered in your swimsuit. your hair was dripping down your back, chilling your spine. jamie led you out of the pool enclosure and headed towards the elevator. 
“oh my god, it’s cold,” you sped up, breaking into a jog, jamie following closely behind you. luckily, the lobby of the hotel was a nicer temperature for your ride back up to your rooms. when the elevator got to your floor, you said goodnight to jamie, but were surprised to see him follow you out.
“what are you doing?” you laughed, “you’re the next floor”.
“i know,” he nodded, beginning to walk down the hall towards your room, “i want to make sure you get inside safely, stupid” he nudged you. you faltered in your step a little, not failing to notice the way that jamie was ready to catch you even if he was the one to cause your fall. you kept your balance and shoved him back. 
“well, here’s my room” you chuckled, “you’re now free to go to your own room, loser” 
“fine, next time i’ll let you walk the halls at midnight and get abducted,” he shrugged, leaving. you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards you. 
you brought jamie in for a hug, which he reluctantly returned with a chuckle. “thank you,” you whispered. 
“for walking you to your door?” he asked.
“no dumbass,” you pulled away from him, “for talking to me about.. it. i feel a lot better now,” you admitted, “so thanks”.
jamie chuckled, “that’s why i’m here”. you both held each other’s gaze for a little while longer. “i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“course,” you nodded, “tomorrow”.
jamie began to walk down the hallway, back towards the elevator.
“night flats,” you called.
“flats, hey?” he turned towards you, walking backwards so he could still see you.
“yeah,” you nodded, “you got a problem with that?”
he shook his head, a smile slowly breaking the surface. “no.. i like it” he smiled. “i’ll see you tomorrow, y/n”
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taglist: @littlexscarletxwitch, @thexplosivegirl, @lagoonabluebabe, @rexorangecouny, @ilovejakesullysdick @rhiannonhippiegirl @leelumenaura @playboykenz @couragemydearheart @whos6claire @m-1234 @coconut-dreamz @graysonshaven @stvpidscvpid @ok-boke @cvsmic-love @sully-stick-together @caniuseurname @fandom-geek17 @sully-stick-together @leaveitbythewave @mirandathebanana @aisselasstuff @midnightstar-90 @jellybeanstacey0519 @bellstwd @netemoon @deadgirlwalkingtaylorsversion @innercreationflower
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bigfan-fanfic ¡ 2 years ago
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Iphicles (Male!Reader x Percy Jackson PLATONIC)
Big brother!reader x Percy Jackson PLATIONIC Just headcanons of him protecting and helping and just genuinely being a good brother please 🥹
tw angst, mentions of emotional and physical domestic abuse, injury
NOTE: I was thinking of making this a series and continuing it through to Last Olympian. This one doesn't have as much Percy x big brother interaction, but think of it as a setup. Let me know if you want more!
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Did you know Heracles had a brother?
While Heracles was the son of Zeus and Alcmene, Alcmene had a husband already - Amphitryon, a mortal man. So there were two babies in the crib - the child of a god and the child of a mortal.
This child was named Iphicles. And while he was never as strong as his brother, he was a powerful warrior in his own right, and accompanied his brother on his quest.
You think about this myth a lot.
You're about four when you meet Poseidon. He went by Yuri then, and it was only later you found out it was short for one of his other names, Eurykreion, which meant wide-ruling.
Yuri loves your mom, you know that. But it's hard, that year, when they get close, and you start to get attached to this guy who might be a father figure to you, and he vanishes.
Leaving your mom pregnant, and you with nothing.
Nothing but a brother with a weird name.
You're ten when Mom meets Gabe. Gabe seems kinda cool at first. He lets you ride in the front seat of his Camaro when he takes you to school, teaches you how to open his beer bottles on the corner of a table (oh what a red flag that turned out to be), and he takes an interest in you, when most of your life since Percy has been about the really weird stuff that starts to happen around him.
You remember screaming when you saw that snake in Percy's crib.
You're pretty sure that that lady who tried to take Percy from his stroller wasn't just wearing a funky coat, and actually had wings.
Or that bus driver with the one eye.
Mom freaks out you bring home a book about Greek myths from the library. She bans you from showing it to Percy.
And that's when it kinda clicks. These monsters you read about... they're part of the world, but they fit in differently. They're not robbers on the dangerous roads between Athens and Thebes, they're mattress salesmen and reclusive sculptors, and kindly old women on the bus, and teachers that constantly demean your little brother for his dyslexia.
Like, you're ten, and MOM can barely even say dyslexia, so how could your six year old little brother figure it out?
And then Gabe shows his true colors. All the little warning signs that could be forgiven from a nice guy start to balloon to almost comic proportions.
You've been a good big brother to Percy. Yeah, it's your job to take care of him, but you love him too. He's tiny and adorable and afraid of everything, and you just wanna show him that things can be good. Like the blue food your mom makes, or the little moments you can make for him that aren't weird or worrying.
But then Gabe tears your little brother away. Percy gets sent off to boarding school after boarding school. For six long years, the only time you see your brother is during the summer, or when he gets expelled.
Part of you wonders if he feels that same sibling bond, if he wants to leave his fancy schools to get back to you.
Gabe's a shit. Way more when the little kid isn't around, and as you get older, he gets bolder, more willing to get nasty the less you look like a baby.
You try not to get bitter, but it sucks so much, living like this. Your mom works soul-crushing hours at that candy store, and her mean boss says you can't just hang out there after school anymore cause you'll distract her.
You wander New York as long as you can after school rather than be alone with Gabe.
And the one time you tried to talk to a counselor at school, she perked up oddly and mentioned your little brother Perseus (how did she even know?) and her eyes changed color and you ran as fast as you could.
You feel angry at the world. At Gabe. At your mother, for letting your brother get sent away, for doing nothing when Gabe yelled at you for no reason, for all the little things, and at yourself for blaming her, for being powerless yourself, for barely recognizing Percy when he gets home, for almost hoping he gets expelled soon so he can reunite with you sooner.
You've had suspicions since you were nine. You turn sixteen and you scream at the Harlem River, daring Poseidon to fight you.
And for any other mortal, he wouldn't show up, but a hand lands on your shoulder and you turn to punch Yuri in the gut.
Your hand breaks, but he pulls a starfish out of his pocket and plasters it over your hand and you can feel the bones mending, and you both sit and talk.
The gods are real.
And they suck.
Your mom refused his offer of a palace under the sea, and you can't decide whether to hate her for it or hate Poseidon for dating your mom when he's already married and he knew he couldn't stay.
He's never been there for Percy. Never been there for your mom. Never been there for you.
Gabe hits her, does he know that? How long until he starts hitting you? Hitting Percy?
How long before the dwindling light goes out?
You hate him so much, you growl, but he hugs you and all the fight leaves, like the tide finally setting back out.
You are not his son, but in that moment you are of the sea, and he understands you.
You are the son of Sally Jackson, the brother of Perseus, and you will be the Earthshaker where the Earthshaker himself cannot tread.
It doesn't change anything, but when Poseidon finally says it, finally says "I am sorry," it moves you. There is someone out there that can see and acknowledge your suffering. Poseidon has lost countless children, was eaten by his own father, betrayed by his brothers. He has witnessed the entire breadth of humanity, and yet in this moment, a god apologizes for the woes of a mortal.
You are sixteen when you meet a god.
He will not be the last.
Poseidon kisses your forehead, drenching you in seafoam as he vanishes, and you feel reborn.
You are worn smooth by waves, hardened by salty brine, and you bide your time, even bringing yourself to smile at Gabe when you get home. You make the bean dip so Mom can rest when she gets home, and you smirk when Gabe is visibly shaken by your confidence.
You wait, because like Poseidon said, Percy is getting older, and things may come to pass. He will need a guardian, a guide.
There is a place for children of the gods, like him.
Camp Half-Blood.
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frasier-crane-style ¡ 2 months ago
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This is leaving Netflix, so I'm going to do a sorta watchalong thing before it goes, where I just post my thoughts on each episode as I watch 'em. I've never seen it before and I haven't really picked anything up from fandom osmosis except that there's big gay ship drama and people don't like the ending. I also don't know anything about the original Voltron or the Japanese stuff, so no opinion on it as an adaptation (although you'd think a modern adaptation would throw in a lot more girls, but I guess this is from the Before Times and they could just not do that).
1x01: Rise of Voltron.
-Kay, so Lance is Sokka but as the kinda-sorta lead? The big difference seems to be that Sokka was actually the smart one, but Lance is an idiot, which... yeah, is a difference, but seems to make the character flatter.
-Hunk and Pidge are both fine. I guess the subverted expectation thing is that Pidge isn't a scaredy-cat, but Hunk is, which seems so contrary to being the Big Guy that it's hard to get behind it?
-Does this make sense to anyone else? Keith and Shiro both have Sixth Ranger Energy to me and they kinda blend together with a lack of personality? I guess Keith is the angsty bad boy (flunked out of space explorer school) and Shiro is the leader guy, even though he's also the amnesiac untrustworthy guy with the mysterious backstory (he's Bucky and Captain America, basically, just like should've happened in the MCU). I don't know, the dynamic is just weird to me. It's like if Angel showed up in the first season of Buffy and went "I'm a friend... but I never said I was YOURS😈😈😈" and then he started leading the Scooby Gang and giving inspirational speeches?
-Not to Surf Dracula things, but it might've made for a better story if it took longer than three joined-together episodes to find ALL the Lions and we met them later on. Sorry, gut feeling.
-The bad guys are furries?
-I would've thought Alura (?) would be one of the pilots. I know Koran can't be because he's an adult, even though he'd seem ideally suited to pilot a Lion, since he's in the military or something and it's his technology and he's old enough to have a 401(k), but even in Anime Land (America), that just means he's old and washed-up, six steps away from the grave.
-Koran's grandfather was alive 600 years ago, but he and Alura are shocked that the Big Bad (I forget his name) is 10,000+ years old. I guess it makes sense, but still, I find it a little funny that there's a distinction between being Kinda Immortal and Super Immortal.
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