#who she has proven herself too

[simplykorra]

not all candidates are worthy...

...but you are

[quietwingsinthesky]

thirteen is incredibly aware of how her actions are perceived and incredibly unaware of how her identity is perceived. like. that’s the Point of her meeting the fugitive doctor. that she can stand next to herself and not know herself. but she knows her own actions. the real recognition of herself in fugitive isn’t when she unearths the tardis or when fugitive calls herself the doctor. its when fugitive hands someone a loaded gun that will backfire and kill them only if they shoot at her first. because that’s what thirteen would do. you know?

[anastacialy]

y'know, i keep making a habit of swinging my bat at hornets nests, but i have to say i'm getting so, so tired of people complaining about shows not making perfect sense when they aren't even close to done. we're four episodes into this season of doctor who. we're four episodes into this season of bridgerton. and yet in both fandoms i keep seeing people whine that such and such didn't make sense or it wasn't explained all the way and by god you guys i think maybe explanations might come later in the season. this is something most viewers will recognize as being called a 'plot.'

[hamiltonforpowerpoint]

Just saw someone say they don’t think Hen is a good cap bc she’s too emotional…then who do think should be captain??? Bc ain’t no way ur thinking of the person I’m thinking of.

But genuinely who do you think would be a better captain and why?

[white-weasel]

I am staring DIRECTLY at Film Reroll Luke Skywalker watching and anticipating his next move

[tomwambsgans]

i'm just gonna say it. on the app that could reasonably be called Misinformation: The Website, where you have no good reason to believe almost anything that anyone says, where people are known to play genuine fucked up long cons where they go so far as to fake a disability, or stage scenes of verbal/emotional abuse with their partners, or make some other incredibly serious claim only to eventually come out and admit that they lied or faked it to be *interesting* or whatever... i think it's wise to take the anecdote of a single random person with a grain of salt

[yuelun]

I'm a week late with a stupidly cute icon for Guizhong because it's baby dust flake Guizhong and everyone needs to see her. But also yes, I'm late, I apologise, I like to think it's better late than never.

Tag drop #1: General

[txttletale]

Sorry for anon, I'm shy. I think I'm one of the liberals you're complaining about and I don't want to be. If (and only if) you have the time/energy, could you elaborate more on where the Harris campaign went wrong? I promise I don't mean this in a sealioning way - I genuinely want to understand and move towards a better perspective, but I don't even know what to Google to start.

it is extremely conventional political wisdom that running as the incumbent party during an unpopular administration is a gruelling uphill battle--harris was in this position, and i think going all-in on her continuity with biden, who is extremely disliked (for many reasons, ranging from his fervent passion for genocide to a vague sense that He Made The Ecnomy Bad And Woke) was a catastrophic error that any dickhead with a political science degree would have told her to avoid. unfortunatley she surrounded herself with biden's people who in the run-up to him stepping down had already proven themselves to be completely self-deluding and isolated from reality.

the absolute worst thing you can do in the electoral situation harris was in is go on television and say "i would do absolutely nothing differently to the current (unpopular) administration" and she did literally exactly that.

other facts are that the constituency her campaign decided to go all-in on, of, like, sensible moderate center-right republicans who value bipartisanship, basically hasn't existed since tea party birtherism became ascnedant in the republican party if it ever did at all. the idea that there was an election-winning segment of voeters who would vote for harris if she proved that she wasn't "too liberal" through serious policy commitments to right-wing positions was just not founded in reality--like it was a strategy that failed to grapple with the basic reality that the modern republican position on democrat politicians is that they're adrenochrome-chugging child rapists.

in a similar vein her hard pivot to border fascism was morally deplorable but also a total waste of time because donald "build the wall" trump has made his personal brand synonymous with anti-immigration politics and so she was simply never ever going to win anyone over from him on that ground. & finally of course there was the campaign;'s wholehearted and total contempt for her own potential voters, which manifseted most obviously and evilly in their treatment of anti-genocide protestors and their flying bill clinton out ot michigan to lecture arabs about how they deserved to be bombed but also seems responsible for their total lack of consideration of (again) conventional elecvtoral tactics 101 like "energizing the base" or "getting out the vote"

so tldr it was just a disastrous campaign that prioritized the egos of biden campaign staff and biden himself over winning or facing basic reality

[loulovingho]

prompt: im not gay, but my husband is.

(I loved those scenes in 911 and lonestar where they only wanted the straight white guy to work on them, so I think it would be funny happening with married, bi buck!)

“No, I don't want you touching me.”

They'd been sent on a call to a woman's residence. She had fallen in her driveway on the way to her car. From the moment they pulled up, trouble had started. She didn't want Hen touching her, wouldn't accept help from Chimney, and the second she spotted Diaz on Eddie's uniform she stopped him.

“Well, you're a straight, white man, Bobby,” Chimney said with a smile. “You wanna take the lead?”

“Wait,” Eddie put his hands on his hip, “do interracial relationships matter to you too?” he asked the woman. “Because, if so, Bobby's out.”

She looked around at everyone in a panic. “You!” she exclaimed when her eyes met Buck's. “You can do it, right?!”

“Yes, I am capable of placing a splint on your leg,” he said with no enthusiasm as Hen handed over the splint.

He bent down to get started but she held her arm out to stop him. “You're normal, right? You're not married to someone,” she glanced up at Bobby, “different, are you? Not gay or anything?”

“Oh, no ma'am, I'm not gay,” Buck assured her, before adding with a flash of his ring, “my husband is though.”

“Y- Your what?”

“My husband.”

“So you are gay?”

“Ma'am, please don't get him started,” Hen begged. “He will not shut up once he gets going.”

“There are actually some people that believe bisexuality doesn't exist,” Buck began, waving a finger to emphasize his point. The groans from the rest of the 118 didn't detour him. “It has been proven to cause mental health issues for people who identify as such, and in extreme cases-”

“Okay, okay,” Bobby interrupted, patting Buck's back a couple of times to get him to stop. “This lady is very clearly “in distress” and we should be focused on helping her.” He stared over at the woman, “If she'll let any of us.”

“Can't you call another team or something? One that isn't filled with minorities and heathens?”

“The 112?” Hen suggested.

Eddie shook his head. “All women crew today.” He looked down at the lady, “I'm guessing you wouldn't like that?”

“They're just not as capable as men,” she whined.

“143?” Chimney asked.

Buck stood back up. “With Captain Garcia?”

“No!” She yelled.

“217?” Eddie offered.

Buck perked up at that. He smiled at the lady on the ground. “You'd get to meet my husband!” he exclaimed. “He's working ground ops today. I could call him, give him a heads up?” He bent back down to the woman's level. “He is the gay one though.”

The woman groaned before pushing herself up and grabbing her purse, jerking away at Buck's attempt to help. “You know what? I'm just gonna take myself to the hospital,” she said as she started to hobble away.

“Say hello to Dr. Cohen for us,” Bobby said, sending her off with a wave. She let out one more angry yelp before getting into her car and slamming the door.

*****

Tommy had gotten home about an hour before Buck, already dressed in a white button down shirt tucked into black dress pants for dinner reservations they had that night.

When he heard the sounds of Buck's car door shutting, he headed to the front door and opened it, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey you,” he said with a smile.

Buck smiled back, dropping his duffel the second he reached the porch. He immediately wrapped himself around Tommy, surprising him with a kiss that elicited a moan from him.

“I got to call you my husband at work today,” Buck explained between kisses as Tommy gripped his waist. He led Tommy backward into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. “Twice.”

Tommy breathed out a laugh, pulling back just enough to look into Buck's eyes. “This was your first shift back after our honeymoon,” he reminded him. “So you lasted, what, twelve hours into your workday before mentioning me?”

Buck shook his head. “It was our first call of the day,” he informed him. “More like two hours.”

Tommy hummed, running his hands up and down Buck's waist. “Your whole team owes me double then,” he said before pressing a gentle kiss to Buck's lips.

It was Buck's turn to pull back this time. “What are you talking about?”

“They were taking bets on how long it would take for you to mention you were married. I said it'd be less than twelve hours, and you'd mention it more than once. Wait-” He paused, then gave Buck's waist a squeeze, “did you mention bisexual erasure?”

Buck sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It's an important topic, Tommy!”

Tommy simply smiled. “I hit the jackpot, Babe.”

“You placed bets on me?” Buck asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Mhm,” Tommy replied. He shrugged. “I won like five hundred dollars.”

Buck's eyes darkened at that. In one quick motion, he turned them and shoved Tommy against the door, pawing at his shirt to get it untucked. “That's so hot,” he moaned, smashing his mouth against Tommy's in a sloppy kiss.

They never did make their dinner reservations.

[f1byjessie]

IN FAIR VERONA ━━ CL16.

things are hard when you're the only female in a male-dominated space, and the newest driver for the newest team knows this best.

( charles leclerc x driver!schumacher!reader )

━━ part one.

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yourusername feeling blue?

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user i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now 

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING SO HARD RN 😩

user y/n schumacher never misses

↳ user let’s be real here user the entire schumacher family never misses

↳ user y’all have seen mick’s most recent post too right??

user she is so gorgeous i am ILL

user god really does have his favorites huh 😭😭

↳ user this is undeniable proof

↳ user people this beautiful don’t actually exist i refuse to believe it

user every day i wake up and cry that i will never be as stunning and skilled as her

user formula 2 silly season has me losing my damn mind i swear 😫 i might as well be wearing a tin foil hat with the number of theories i’m following and the consistent blue themed posts y/n keeps dropping are NOT HELPING

↳ user not to add to your conspiracy madness, but it’s already confirmed that fred vesti is replacing jehan daruvala who’s moving to mp motorsport, and there are rumors that oliver bearman is also getting a prema seat which could mean that y/n schumacher is going to another team as well or leaving f2 entirely

↳ user a good chunk of the other teams have already revealed their driver lineup and none of them include schumacher, which doesn’t leave a lot of options IF the rumours are true

↳ user i can’t see her just leaving motorsports entirely considering she’s worked so hard to get where she is 🤔 which calls into question whether she’s moving to a different racing series

↳ user i really can’t see schumacher leaving tbh, especially since she’s been in f2 since 2017 and has established herself as a prema legend basically

↳ user the fact that she has been at prema for so long (and has gotten p2 in the f2 championship nearly every year since 2017) could also be proof that she’s moving on to bigger and better things

↳ user wait she’s been there HOW LONG??? since 2017??? as in she drove with charles leclerc, her brother mick, AND oscar piastri??? 🤯🤯🤯

↳ user she’s had a very long and successful career there, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she decided to retire from formula racing and move onto some other series that’s more woman-friendly, all things considered 🤷‍♀️. she has been runner-up every year that she’s competed, proven that she has what it takes to make it in a higher level of formula racing, and yet not a single f1 team has even offered her the opportunity to be even a test or reserve driver? 🤨 something isn’t adding up and i don’t want to say it’s because she’s a girl in motorsports but it’s kind of hard to ignore the proof when it’s put right in front of you.

↳ user guys the keyword is “if” here, of course, bc as fun as it is to speculate it is all still speculation and we won’t know for certain until it’s revealed by official sources. silly season is called that for a reason, and for all we known y/n is drawing out the announcement of her continued partnership with prema to stir up interest. she’s been in a very loyal and secure partnership with them for years now, a partnership that both she and prema seem very happy to keep considering just how long it’s lasted.

↳ user f2 is another series that once you win the championship you are no longer allowed to compete in, so prema may have kept her around to help carry her male teammates into first place until females are more accepted in formula racing so that she could eventually move up to f1

↳ user prema’s gonna announce her as their driver with vesti and you all are gonna look so fucking dumb for this 🙄🙄

user blue is HER color now 😍

maseratimsg 💙

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yourusername to the women of f1 that came before me, who paved the way, this is for you.

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maseratimsg When you race, they race with you 💙.

↳ yourusername 🫶💙

user Y/N SCHUMACHER??? IN FORMULA ONE??? IN 2023???

user i’ve been following her career for years now and this makes me so excited omg

↳ user me too!! she’ll be the first female to drive in f1 in over 30 years 🤭

user HARD LAUNCH BUT FOR THE 2023 GRID I GUESS

user when maserati announced they’d be getting back into formula racing i had no idea that also meant formula one as well?? they’ve got drivers in the 22-23 formula e season right now but this is how i found out about y/n schumacher driving for the 23 formula 1 season? i think i am going into shock

user 2023 might actually be a good year if this is how we’re gonna be going into it

user WOMEN IN MOTORSPORTS

user milf = man i love females-in-fast-cars

user been watching f1 since i was a kid, always wondered why there were no girls out there driving. this year i’ll get to turn on that tv and finally see someone who looks like me

↳ user it’s so fitting that maserati’s original f1 team also had the first woman f1 driver, and now they’ll be breaking barriers again by having another woman f1 driver in their first season back

↳ user i’m hoping they’ve got a good car ready cuz i wanna see y/n schumacher up on that podium telling everyone who didn’t believe she could do it just cuz she was a girl to eat shit and die 😤😤😤

user there’s a reason there aren’t any female drivers in f1. she’s doomed to fail just like all the others smh 🙄

↳ user the biggest reason is sexism, and y/n has consistently proved throughout her career that she is just as skilled if not more than her male counterparts. she works harder to make up for the physical disadvantages she has as a woman, and she still wipes the floor with the other drivers. she’s not “doomed to fail” she’s practically destined to succeed.

↳ user y/n has trained her ass off to be the best, and she’ll prove it when she gets out on the tarmac in bahrain, just you wait 🥱

↳ user she’s literally a 6-time f2 runner up??? sure, she didn’t win, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still incredibly fucking impressive that she’s managed to get p2 against her male counterparts 6 YEARS IN A ROW 👀👀 her brother got p12 his first season and you know what she got? p2. she’s already raced with the likes of charles leclerc, zhou guanyu, yuki tsunoda, alex albon, george russell, lando norris, and a number of other very prominent formula racing names, and she held her own against them all incredibly well. she gave her own brother a real run for his money when they were teammates in 2019 and 2020, and in 2021 she was only a 9 point difference away from oscar piastri, whereas the p3 finalist was nearly a full 60 points below both of them. get out of here with that “there’s a reason there aren’t any female drivers in f1” bullshit, because the reason is misogyny 😒🙄

user not to be that person but like??? who else is lowkey excited for potential driver x driver romance?? 🫣

↳ user nah cuz i didn’t wanna make this about that but i’m actually totally ready to see who she has the best chemistry with on the grid 🫢 first hope is charles leclerc cuz they’d be a power couple hands down but also mayhaps max verstappen?? maybe??

↳ user totally agree babes a ferrari and maserati romeo and juliet love story would destroy me 😩

↳ user the parallels are already paralleling

↳ user to add to the parallels, her and charles were teammates at prema in 2017

↳ user OMG RIVALS TO STAR CROSSED LOVERS??? 😭😭

↳ user schumacher and leclerc are about to live out THE fanfic dream i can see it now

user can’t wait to see her mop the floor with these boys next year

user 2023 IS GONNA BE CRAZY 💙💙

user if i see any of those lads talk down about her or dismiss her just because she’s a woman, it’s on fucking sight 💀

↳ user they did that campaign in 2021 about equality in racing and i am BEGGING that it wasn’t just a media ploy and that they actually believe what they said about men AND women being able to drive

user this is about to be the best f1 season in history folks

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maseratimsg Prepare for trouble, and make it double ✌️💙.

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user SCHUMACHER TWINS TEAMMATES AGAIN???

user someone pinch me i think i’m in a dream 😳

↳ user i pinched myself and this is in fact very real

user we knew y/n would be driving for maserati but to also have MICK? maserati picked not one but TWO legacy drivers they have an agenda to push and they are certainly pushing it

↳ user yeah, an agenda to win 😌

↳ user genuinely just imagine how much natural talent and skill will be in that garage come the start of the season with michael schumacher’s twins…

↳ user back in 2020 when they raced together at prema, i saw someone joke that they were made into twins because no singular human being would be able to handle having that much racing prowess, so they were split up. but idk how much of it was actually a joke because they were scarily good as teammates? y/n has always finished no more than 10 points behind p1, and mick is a very powerful driver in his own right. putting them together and letting them drive as allies again instead of rivals will be a sight that’s for sure.

↳ user imagine being nerfed at birth cuz fate knew you’d be too powerful otherwise 😂😂😂

user blue is THEIR color apparently

user it’s the schumachers’ world and we’re just living in it

↳ user schumachers vs the entire f1 grid sounds like an insane clickbait article but the fact that it’ll be real in a few months is crazy

user everyone’s talking about y/n and mick but i’m stuck on the fact that there will finally be 11 teams driving for f1 again

↳ user maserati really said fuck the expectations

↳ user maserati’s gonna get a 1-2 with the schumachers in their first year back i’m calling it now 🤪🤪

↳ user first female driver in f1 in 30 years and first 11th team to drive in f1 since 2016, and i’m betting it’ll be first ever female driver to podium in f1 and first ever female driver to win in f1 too because i’ve seen y/n schumacher’s skill and i guarantee that if she’s actually given the ability to go all out then she’s gonna be a force to be reckoned with

user hope they’ve got a good car planned cuz i wanna see these two put up a good fight

user verstappen better watch his back 👀

user Y/N SCHUMACHER WDC 2023

user at least mick got to drive with seb still on the grid, but i’m actually heartbroken that y/n won’t be able to 😔

↳ user and kimi too

↳ user i think the only drivers left are hamilton and alonso no? from before their dad retired i mean

↳ user perez, hulkenberg, and ricciardo too, but they only drove on the same grid as michael schumacher for a couple years

↳ user i imagine it would suck to lose but i personally would be very proud to see my old friend’s kids standing on a podium above me or beside me 🥹

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mickschumacher from beating you into this world, to beating you in karting (both professionally and casually), i'm so proud to have the chance to beat you in formula 1 too

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yourusername those are fighting words micky 🤨

↳ mickschumacher not sure what you mean 😊

↳ yourusername it’s on sight 👊

user GUYSSS JUST THINK ABOUT THE PADDOCK INTERACTIONS BETWEEN THESE TWO

↳ user the media days boutta be crazyyyy

↳ user i’m imagining the chaos of not just having siblings on the grid together, but twins specifically, and i’m already getting a migraine on behalf of whoever their pr officers are 😅😭

↳ user 2023 is the year they make a geneva convention for the grid prank wars and it’s gonna be the because of the schumachers

user baby photos oh i am unwell 🙃

↳ user i’ve caught a nasty case of baby fever i fear

↳ user they’re both menaces as adults, i wonder how bad they were as little kids

↳ user baby fever cured methinks 😶

user 💙💙💙 MICK P1 2023 💙💙💙

user mick being proud to race with his sister but also making it well known that he isn’t gonna take it easy on her is the type of sibling rivalry content i’m looking forward to seeing this season

↳ user i need all the drivers to have this same mentality bc i know mick is gonna recognize her as the threat that she is, but if any of those lads underestimate her just bc she’s a girl, then their karma will come in the form of eating the dust of y/n schumacher’s car

↳ user PREACH 🙌🙏

charlesleclerc cannot wait to have you both on track this year

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej

━━ a/n: first and foremost, happy international women's day! i've had this sitting around for a little while now and decided that today would be the perfect day to finally share it, what with the themes of women empowerment and breaking the glass ceiling. my main priority will still be my lando series until i can get that finished, but updates for this might appear in between on occasion. i also wanna take a moment just to appreciate the sheer amount of research that went into this, finding a team that would reasonably work well as an 11th team for formula 1 was a bit difficult, but i'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth when maserati fits pretty perfectly. also, as a twin myself, i'm incapable of writing a sibling duo that aren't also twins, and i have zero shame about that. anyways, i'm very excited for this, and i hope everyone else is as well!

[kaznejis]

He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

You scoffed then, drawing the eyes of everyone sat throughout the common room; including Erik, the deceitful side of your brain chimed gleefully. He raised an eyebrow at you, cocking his head; physically daring you to speak. You did so anyway, “What the hell is your problem with me, Erik?”  “-Y/N, please-”  “My problem?” Erik spoke over Charles; his eyes hawk-like as they watched you, his cheeks turning with mirth as he grinned at you, his sharp teeth glinting in the evening light. If you hadn’t been overtaken with anger, with embarrassment; you would’ve thought that he looked devastatingly attractive, in some twisted way. “My problem is that lesser mutants, like you, shouldn’t be put on patrols that ensure the safety of the other, more important mutants in this house.” 

A/N: So I hadn't touched this in over a MONTH. Never fear, I had a zap of inspiration and prevailed- I hope you enjoy! I'm considering doing a short fic from Jean's POV of Erik after the battle so look out for that! :)

Word Count: 9,391 / Read it on AO3! / Feel free to send any requests!

BEFORE

“No, Y/N isn’t taking part.” Erik’s words were final, as according to his tone and the silence that ensued; even Charles seemed shocked, his eyes flicking between you, sat upon one of the leather couches, and Erik, stood at the front of the room, hands on hips. 

“Erik-” Charles began, adjusting in his wheelchair and clearing his throat. Jean, beside you, too shifted; her anger visible as she sent daggers Erik’s way with her eyes, he seemed entirely unaware. “I- Y/N is an incredibly capable mutant, in the missions she has gone on-” 

“-Which she shouldn’t have-”

“Erik! In the missions she has gone on,” Charles repeated, shaking his head, “She has proven herself to be one of the best; her Geokinesis has the potential to be-” 

“Potential,” Erik shook his head- whilst your eyes had not left his form, his eyes were yet to stray towards your own as he resolutely stared at any other catching aspect of the room. “That’s all you seem to care about Charles, not the actual raw talent of a mutant.” 

You scoffed then, drawing the eyes of everyone who sat throughout the common room; including Erik, the deceitful side of your brain chimed gleefully. He raised an eyebrow at you, cocking his head; physically daring you to speak. You did so anyway, “What the hell is your problem with me, Erik?” 

“-Y/N, please-” 

“My problem?” Erik spoke over Charles; his eyes hawk-like as they watched you, his cheeks turning with mirth as he grinned at you, his sharp teeth glinting in the evening light. If you hadn’t been overtaken with anger, with embarrassment; you would’ve thought that he looked devastatingly attractive, in some twisted way. “My problem is that lesser mutants, like you, shouldn’t be put on patrols that ensure the safety of the other, more important mutants in this house.” 

Your mouth downturned unwillingly as a clogging feeling entrapped your throat, unadulterated sadness filling your gut at the cruelty of his words. Beside you, Jean sprung from her seat; hurling insults at Erik as Scott attempted to hold her back. At the edge of the room, Charles simply rubbed at his brow, but not before sending you a sympathetic, apologetic look. It had been like this for months now; Erik disregarding your every word, suggestion, and proposal; it seemed that he simply had no interest in anything you had to offer. 

You had been appointed to the X-men with wide, open arms; having scored ridiculously high marks in your training. Erik had even been a friend, in the beginning, one of your closest- hence, the outright obvious, and regretful, feelings you harboured towards him. He had once treated you with kindness; helping you in your training, the similarity in your abilities allowing him to provide advice, tips on how to truly harness your powers. Whilst Erik could control the direct elements of the Earth; Iron, Zinc, Potassium, amongst many others- you could control, as stated within your mutant file, ‘photosynthetic eukaryotes’. You had laughed upon first seeing the description, shaking your head at the severity it suggested; Erik had corrected you then. “You can wield more than you know,” He had nodded, gesturing to the screen before you, “Your powers may seem simple to you now; but there is always more to discover,” He had paused then, turning towards you directly, smile discreet, “I will help you discover that.” 

“What more is there to discover about plants?” You had laughed, genuinely unable to grasp the supposedly absurd concept of your power being of any worth other than discreetly fixing an elderly neighbour’s yard, speeding the growth of the tomato plant they had incorrectly cared for despite their best efforts. 

Erik had shook his head, eyes misting slightly as he watched you, “More than you would know.” 

Your feelings for him didn’t exactly come as a surprise to you, whilst you did regret them greatly, you couldn’t deny the kindness he had provided you during your first months at the school; the guidance he had offered you during the day and the friendship he had offered you at night- it had been everything in contrast to the loneliness you had felt since discovering your mutant gene. Harrowing, stomach-turning nightmares would procure directly from your memories; Erik would always be there to wake you, running into your room before anyone else could even rise, shaking you awake and halting your sobs with the strength of his embrace.

In his shift, his silence; you had learned to quieten your cries- to wake yourself up from your nightmares, scared of bothering him even in sleep. 

You could pinpoint exactly when things had changed; when Erik had suddenly slipped away, succumbing you to the darkness of your own mind; to navigate the dingy, griping hallways of your mutant powers alone. It had been the depths of Summer; the sun hot and blazing upon the grounds of the manor- you spent many a day in the gardens, tending to the plants and honing your powers; barefoot and free. Sometimes, Erik would join you, using the seasonal bloom of the flowers as a ‘training opportunity’. 

The day it ended, you had been manipulating the vines of ivy that had grown upon the fence; learning how to move them as if they were one of your very own limbs. “Focus.” Erik had spoken from behind you, his arms crossed and gaze severe, “Clear your mind of everything other than that plant.” 

A difficult task, you had bemused to yourself, when the sole occupier of your mind and the object of your desires stood only a hair’s breadth away. “I’m trying,” You had gritted your teeth, pushing a splayed palm towards the ivy; your fingers trembling slightly, the sun blazing through the spaces between your fingers. 

Just as you had been about to give up, a touch lay upon your wrist, effectively silencing any thoughts intruding on those regarding the task at hand. “Here,” Erik had mumbled, his breath hot upon your neck, “Hold your hand up like this.” As he parted your fingers, practically intertwining his fingers with your own- you had found clarity in your own worry of revealing your nerves to him, of revealing the heat that clambered upon your chest and upon your neck where his breath lay, goosebumps rising in its wake. Within that sense of clarity, you had linked your powers with the twines and inky green leaves of the ivy- lifting the ivy from the fence and guiding it to hover above you; Erik’s fingers still intertwined within yours. You breathed; shock coursing through your body as you stared wide-eyed at the life-form levitating above you- the ivy floated upon the air, drifting languidly as if upon waves of a tranquil sea. The moment passed then; the initial calm of your powers passing as euphoria replaced it. Laughing,  you had instantly turned to Erik, dropping his hand in favour of throwing your arms around his shoulders; gasping and blubbering as tears of joy had formed within your eyes. Erik, too, had matched your fervour at first; grinning and burrowing a hand within your hair, another moving to rest upon your waist. 

Looking back on that moment, you knew that the pulse of power within your fingertips and the warmth within your chest and the hand within your hair had blurred your judgement entirely. So, looking back, you could see why you had pulled away and immediately pressed your lips to Erik’s. 

In other words, you had kissed him. 

At first, he had reciprocated; the hand within your hair deepening, the grip upon your waist tightening. He had guided your face to the side, gasping into your mouth as you intertwined your tongue with his own. You had felt so alive in that moment, your entire body thrumming like a tightened cord; held aloft by the grip of his hands and the heat of his tongue. 

However, the moment ended as quickly as it had begun. You had felt it as he had frozen, his body going ramrock still against your own; the heat between you retreating like a dying flame. 

You lamented yourself for that kiss everyday; whilst you knew that objectively, there had been nothing wrong with it, and it had been the best kiss you had ever experienced, even in its lacklustre length; you couldn’t see past the detrimental effect it had projected upon your relationship, your life as a whole. He had retreated instantly, some wayward excuse tumbling from his lips as he fled the garden, fled the warmth of your touch. The lingering sense of something more hanging stale, dead in the air. 

You had never forgotten the sound the ivy had made as it had slapped upon the concrete; the stems withering and rotting instantly in the projections of your regret, the scent of it bleating from you in waves. You had used every last ounce of your might, your power, to revive it; pressing your hands incessantly to the blackening stems. They did not return to their living state, too far gone in the influence of your vast emotions. Your nightmares took a new turn then, dreams of rejection, isolation; of your powers overtaking you and destroying the foundations of the world, any semblance of emotion desecrating nature and instilling desperation. Those dreams were worse than your own memories; you grew afraid of your powers, afraid of yourself, your own inability to control your emotions. As you became a shell of yourself, of the barefoot girl who grew geraniums in the palm of her hands; Erik drew further away, you could only chart it up to disgust- you had gone too far, flung yourself upon him in the light of the risen sun where others could have seen. He had been embarrassed of you. Why wouldn’t he be? You were a semblance of everything Erik Lehnsherr, Magneto, was not; whilst he could control the very foundations of the earth’s core, you could barely maintain its creations. Whilst he could stand before the students and present any lesson he desired, you shied away from an authoritative position, opting to hide in the comfort, the secrecy, of your gardens.

You felt as though you were a disappointment of a mutant; a waste of genetic advancement. Entirely undeserving of the gene. 

Days without Erik turned into weeks, and then gradually months. Day after day you sat alone in the cafeteria; staring at the side of his head, watching the crinkle of his cheeks as he smiled at something Charles said; as he enjoyed the company of those within his own mutant league. 

But, as Erik had departed from your life, Jean had entered. Silver linings, and all. She had barged into your life with her fiery hair and even brighter personality; the powers so strong that they would immobilise the average person, the average mutant- but Jean simply took it in her stride, using her staggering, incredible powers for good. 

You would forever be thankful for the way she had taken you under her wing that one random morning at breakfast. You had been sitting alone, meagerly sipping a mug of tea, your nightmares leaving you unable to stomach any solid food; unable to do anything but longingly stare at Erik across the hall, able to think of nothing but the way his lips had felt against your own. It was set to be an entirely normal morning, the same as every other; stare at Erik, tend to the plants, wallow in your lonesome. However, before you could embark on your pathetic routine, your line of sight had been blocked by a figure before you, Jean, placing her tray upon the table and chatting with you as if it were nothing new. 

“-Honestly, it’s ridiculous.” You had blinked, tearing your vision away from Erik; your finger hanging limply at your lips where you had been chewing at a loose hangnail. Shaking your head, you had been able to do nothing but gape at Jean, your brain unable to compute what had been said, why she had been sat across from you, how you had managed to find your way into the dining hall at all. She had simply nodded her head at you, gesturing blatantly down at her provided breakfast tray, “The fact that they’ve only been serving brown bread for toast recently, I mean- nobody wants to eat that.” 

You had practically shifted yourself into first gear, inwardly slapping yourself awake as you had processed what she had said, what she was saying as she continued to complain about the discrepancies the cafeteria had allowed in recent months. “Maybe you should complain to Charles, go straight to the top.” You had managed to contribute, visibly sighing in relief as she nodded enthusiastically. 

“You know what, you’re so right.” 

From there, Jean’s presence had become a normality, walking arm-in-arm with your new best friend through the halls of the manor became a daily pleasure. 

You had almost forgotten about Erik. 

But, you found within yourself, you just couldn’t. He had been so kind, so understanding, and so ridiculously attractive- to which he, in fact, was potentially even more so. 

It eventually reached the point that you had been at in the common room; the only interactions being him hurling insults in your direction, exposing every insecurity you had ever had regarding your abilities; and you sitting there utterly befuddled as to how your relationship had deteriorated so severely. The conversation had initially revolved around assignments, specifically who would enact the nightly patrols of the grounds; groups of two would simply walk the outskirts of the land owned by Charles and ensure that everything was in order. It had been clear that you were perfect for the job; the edges of the land were uncared for; flooded with wildlife and overgrowth- you would practically be in your element. And yet, Erik had vehemently argued against you taking part, so passionately to the point that it was past being insulting, and just outright deranged. 

“You are such an asshole!” Jean’s shouts brought you out of your thoughts, blinking harshly as you zoned back into the conversation to which you were the main component of, “Do you ever climb down from your high horse, Magneto?” She spat his superhero nickname in a derogatory manner, practically laughing as she procured the word; as if one of the strongest mutants on the planet was merely a joke to her. She turned to you then, where you were still sunken into the leather of the couch; gesturing towards you passionately, “Y/N is an incredible mutant, if you had showed any interest in her recent training, you would know that; in fact, Charles is right, she’s on track to be better than you.” Ending the sentence with a jab in his direction, she turned and stomped back towards the couch; muttering angrily under her breath, you could only offer her a shallow smile in appreciation. You had filled Jean in on everything that had happened between you and Erik, whatever didn’t sound like dreamful vitriol, anyway. She had simply sighed, shaking her head, “Men.” She had tutted, turning the page in her book. In turn, she had filled you in on her situation with Scott; there really wasn’t much to it, other than the usual will-they-won’t-they denial of feelings on each end. You knew for a fact that Scott harboured similar feelings for her, it was only a matter of time.

Erik had recovered from Jean’s berating easily, simply brushing off her insults with a swallow and a hand through the hair, “Y/N isn’t taking part in patrols and that is final.” 

“Charles,” You had sighed, sending him a pleading look, hoping that your other superior would take some stance against Erik, recognise your need to be useful, “Please?” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Charles shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Erik has just as much a say as I do; I’m afraid his decision is final.” 

*

Despite your confidence in Jean and Scott’s mutual feelings for each other, it seemed that the potential couple themselves had been entirely unaware as to this likelihood. 

“Y/N!” Jean cheered, bustling into your room with multiple piles of clothing, you had sprung from your bed; heart thumping from the sudden nature in which she had appeared. She shook off your shock, dumping her clothes onto your bed and spinning towards you, “I need you to help me pick out a dress.” 

“What’s the occasion?” Furrowing your brows, you picked through the masses of colour that now laid upon your bed; clothes suitable for a myriad of situations.

“I’m going…” You waited as she paused for dramatic effect, “On a date!” 

“Oh!” You gasped excitedly, jumping to grasp your friend by the shoulders, “With Scott?”

Jean’s energy died instantly, freezing beneath your hold as she cleared her throat, eyes flickering nervously, “Oh- what? No, why-” 

“Wait- who is it with then?” 

“Um, well, you know Oliver, right?” You nodded, still confused, “We were in classes together and we recently started talking again and, yeah, he seems nice!” 

“Nice?” Grinning, you raised your eyebrows amusedly, moving to sit beside her pile of clothes, “That’s all you have to say?” 

“Y/N! Don’t be mean, he’s more than that, I- just,” She huffed, moving to sit beside you, on the other side of the pile, “He’s actually giving me attention whilst Scott,” She shrugged, eyes sad, “He’s not giving me much to work with.” 

You nodded, completely understanding, whilst you were determined in your belief of Scott’s feelings; the theory was based entirely on conspiracy- Cyclops’ nerves tended to evolve into silence when in the presence of Jean. You moved to rub her shoulder; a grin upon your face, “Let’s pick you out something nice then.” 

After a considerable length of time spent rifling through clothes and testing a combination of outfits in your mirror; Jean spoke up, turning towards you suddenly, “Oh! I also have a way this could benefit you; you know how Erik forbids you from taking patrols, well, since I’m going on a date tonight; I need someone to take over my shift-” She practically sung the words to you; her eyes sparkling with glee. 

“No!” You said instantly, shaking your head and hands at her, to which her form drooped; her lips curling downwards, “Erik said no, Jean; not even Charles could dispute that-” 

“Come on, Y/N!” Jean cried, her arms dropping to her sides as the dress within them drooped to the floor haggardly, “I don’t want anyone I can’t trust taking the shift I’d usually have with Scott, and I know you wouldn’t flirt with him.” 

You shook your head, becoming even more steadfast in your refusal, “Jean, I am not hanging out with Scott, I’m sor-” 

“What?” Jean’s face dropped, her eyes resembling that of a kicked puppy, “Why would you not want to hang out with-” 

“And, that.” You pointed directly at her, other hand on hip, “Is exactly why, you’re going on a date Jean-”

“So?-” 

“So?” You mimicked, “I don’t want to be the one that deals with Scott tonight, I have plans-” 

“Plans? What- spying on Erik?” 

Your mouth snapped shut, opting only to glare at Jean; as she cackled to herself. Traitor.  

“Y/N.” Jean’s tone was deadpan, posture straightened, almost stern, “Believe me, patrols are entirely uneventful; I mean, really, you aren’t missing out- but, I know you want to take part so-” 

“Fine.” You relented, allowing Jean a small, genuine smile, “I’ll cover your shift.” 

Later, traipsing through the sloping mud and overgrown grass at the edge of the grounds as rain fell in think sheets, you couldn’t help but curse Jean in that moment- curse her for deciding to go on that date and neglect her obvious feelings for Scott, curse her for being a good friend and prioritising your own troubles in the meantime, curse her for asking you to take over her patrol shift. You were all for a bit of friendly, healthy jealousy- but, oh, this was unbearable. Any joy you had initially had at being able to, finally, take over a shift was long gone. 

“Why would she do it, Y/N?” Scott practically whined behind you, stumbling along behind you; you could feel blisters beginning to form upon your heels, “Why would she go on a date? I mean, I’m right here. Do you know how many times I’ve tried to ask her out?” 

“Keyword, ‘tried’.” You huffed, spinning to watch him as he traipsed towards you pathetically; hair sopping in the rain and lips pouting like an emotionally unregulated toddler, “Scott, if you had asked her out; I would know about it, and I don’t, so you obviously haven’t tried hard enough.” 

To your chagrin, his pout only deepend; his cheeks going rosy with embarrassment, like a forlorn puppy- it made you feel slightly guilty, but only slightly. You ignored the slew of stuttered, random words that followed, opting to turn around and, physically, get to the portion of the shift that would take place beneath the canopy of trees across the field. 

Whilst you were at it, you decided to curse Erik too; curse him for forcing you to exercise such desperate measures and take whatever shift became available to you. If it had been up to you, the two of you would have shared a sunny evening shift- filled with banter, good conversation and maybe even some light flirting, if you felt brave enough. But instead, he had decided to end your friendship and had shared a shift with Raven the previous night, according to the schedule pinned up upon the notice board; to which you could only assume was a great time, seeing as though the two had entered the communal lounge smiling and laughing after it. The page of the book you had been pretending to read had almost ripped in your seething as he had paid you no mind, instead opting to continue his conversation with Raven on the couch across from your own. 

Your night had, effectively, been ruined from that point onwards; as you had been able to do nothing but listen to your so-called ‘crush’ recount memories of his long friendship with another woman. If you had not known better, if you had not known of the hatred he harboured towards you; you would’ve thought he was trying to make you jealous. You definitely did not fall for that metaphorical bait, absolutely not. 

“Did you see that?” Scott’s, grating, voice broke you from your reverie; he seemed to be on high alert- his stance frozen, like a guard dog on alert. 

You turned to him, confused, “No-” 

“Shhhh!” He hissed, moving you both to a crouch below the grass-line; he seemed to be staring at something just past the tree line, his hand poised at the ready. 

‘Scott, what the f- '' You were instantly silenced by a loud, jarring clatter; a shout following it. You squinted your eyes, attempting to spot whatever had made the noise through the dark of the night. Before you could register what was happening; Scott shot upwards, taking off towards the trees, you could only scramble after him, parting the thick reeds with your powers as you followed. Scott reached the trees before you did; instantly throwing himself head first into the darkness. You could only follow, stumbling blindly as you stretched your powers forward; making any attempt to identify what exactly was unravelling before you. 

“Scott, Scott!” You hissed, the thick bushes procuring your sight as you peered into the darkness of the canopy; nearby leaves rustled alongside the clattering beat of your heart, your powers at the ready. “Scott, answer me.” Whispering as loudly as you could, you begged him to answer, to show some indication as to what the hell was going on. 

Before you could call for him again, a beam of light flashed before you, sending you tumbling backwards from your crouched position, your pants instantly becoming drenched in mud. Scott appeared then, panting; his goggles askew, barely concealing his eyes- you gasped at the sight of him, leading him to spin around; his head flitting side to side as he desperately searched for you. 

“Y/N? Y/N, was that you?” It was his turn to hiss now, the sound quickling turning into a squeak as you wrapped a branch from the bush around his ankle and yanked; usually, you would’ve laughed, cackled even, at the sound he had made whilst falling, but instead you had dragged him backward and placed a hand over his mouth, effectively silencing any further sound. As soon as he was tucked into the overgrowth, an entourage of armed men emerged from the dark; armed to the teeth, guns drawn. As they appeared, you felt Scott’s breath quicken against your palm, your own heartbeat hopping in tandem. 

“Was that Cyclops?” One of the men called to the others; flashing his light into the trees, not far from the bush you crouched in, “Do any of the others use laser beams?” 

“Can’t be sure…” Another man replied; cocking his weapon. The entire entourage were on alert, their torches flashing dangerously close; you didn’t allow the fear to swallow you, the adrenaline and the buzz of your powers rendering you silent, aware. 

Slowly, carefully, you slid your hand away from Scott’s mouth; pressing a finger against your own in demand. He nodded, lips trembling as he kept his hand held aloft; ready to shoot if necessary. Shaking your head, you turned towards him, hoping to convey the necessary declaration within your gaze. When you spoke, your voice was barely there; lower than a whisper, each word spoken slowly, “You need to go.” 

You widened your eyes incessantly when Scott opened his mouth in protest, shaking your head firmly- eventually, he broke past your protests, managing to hiss out a word, “What?” 

“Scott,” You gripped his arm; clasp firm and angry, “You need to leave, now-”

“-I’m not leaving you here.”

“Scott, please,” You were begging now, eyes filling with tears as you sniffled at him, “I’ll be fine.” 

“Look at their weapons, Y/N-” 

“Scott, listen to me. We both know that if they manage to get those goggles off, you are a liability to everyone, to me.” You watched his face fall, his mouth falling ajar slightly in despair; his head shaking adamantly all the while, “I need you to go and get help-”

“Y/N, please, I can’t-” 

“You can.” You nodded, gathering him by the lapels of his shirt; jostling him slightly, “You can, Scott, please.” 

He nodded then, understanding. He was visibly stricken, breath laboured, traumatised by the thought of leaving you there. He spared you one last look, one last squeeze of the hand, before he took off; crashing through the bushes and onto the fields- sending any stray laser that he could towards the men. 

“Shit-” They yelled, aiming towards him and beginning to make chase, though before they could, you shot your hand forwards- the branch of a tree effectively impaling three of the men at once; connecting them all by the same gaping hole as they instantly hung limp. The remaining men froze, guns held half-aloft in shock as they stared up at their comrades hanging above. Rising from the bushes, you cocked your fingers; summoning roots from underground and wrapping them around the ankles of the men, dragging them through the mud and back into their place of origin; silencing the velocity of the men’s screams as they suffocated. The rain was blinding, falling in thick slashes, your hair clung to your neck as you manipulated any semblance of nature you could grasp; the roots, vines, leaves, branches- all elements moved in tandem, fighting back against the weapons of the men. You walked into the clearing, untouchable, unobtainable; your powers bursting at the seams as you discovered the potential you had withheld from yourself. 

As a lone soldier sprinted towards you, baton held high above his head; you spun your wrist, leading a nearby tree to reach forward, plucking him from the ground and flinging him into the air. You could almost have laughed, your powers unvanquished even by the sheets of unforgiving rain. In that moment, you felt yourself channeling Erik, the way his face hardened in the pursuit of revenge; the harshness of his stance and the cool of his metal. For the first time, you didn’t see yourself as weak compared to him, as not good enough- you felt like him. Like him in the essence that you could manipulate whatever you wanted, as long as it tuned to the rhythm of your powers. 

Though, your reign was short lived as a flash of light beamed upon you; you squinted, hand held aloft before your eyes as you looked up at the helicopter above you; it allowed only a second of thought before a heavy force knocked you to the ground, the abject press of an electrified baton burning into your side; leaving you convulsing and screaming beneath its hold, face down within the trenches of mud. A hand instantly clasped the ends of your legs, sharpened nails digging into the bare skin of your ankles, and begun to drag; your face and hands and hair sliding in the choking thick of the mud- you knew in that moment that something was going to happen, that you were going to die, even. The thought shot through your rambling brain as you heaved at the mud filling your mouth and eyes, desperately trying to blink it away. With every ounce of your being, you attempted to utilise your powers as you had been only moments earlier, stretched your convulsing fingers forward, nail beds thick with mud; but it was to no avail, the electricity having dulled the receptors within that allowed your powers to course through your bloodstream. 

To your abject relief, your perpetrator dropped your ankles, leaving you moaning and gasping in relief, a smile almost gracing your face as the pain almost stopped. You laid there, face down in the mud, unable to do anything but comply as rough hands fastened a collar around your neck; any semblance of hold you had on your powers vanished- for a long moment, you felt human, normal- no longer were you attuned to the grass bristling upon your legs and the tree branches dancing above you. They simply became fixtures of nature, living bodies unrelated to your own; the tether snapped. 

“We need to get out of here.” A voice rushed above you, the sound of a gun clicking in the deafening drum of the rain, “Leave the other one, this one’s a real freak- I mean, look at this place, look at how many we just lost-” 

The voices around you blurred as raindrops soaked the side of your face; your sopping hair strewn across the base of your neck and chin- your body could only attune to a constant shiver, your teeth chattering against the mud and the blue of your lips. You could only watch through bleary eyes as the helicopter landed beside you; men instantly jumped from it, armed to the teeth, and running to where you laid prone upon the ground. You knew that you were losing consciousness; your human body no longer strong enough to fight your injuries. 

As your eyes fluttered, your body and mind sinking into the mud; you could only watch in confusion as the helicopter’s rotors began to spin, the base of the vehicle lifting clumsily and sending soldiers scattering. It was apparent that had been the warning signal; as the clearing instantly exploded into chaos above you- gunfire and mutant force alike thrashing upon the night’s quiet. The ground below you reverberated as something fell beside you; as it did so- the pressure of the collar upon your neck eased, the device being torn from your neck as a hand shook your shoulder, turning you on your back. Warmth overtook the shiver that had embedded itself within you as a hand landed upon your cheek, calloused touch brushing the sodden hair from your face and caressing the skin that remained in its place. You knew that someone was talking, encasing your body in their hold as the chaos surrounding you continued. Allowing your head to roll to the side, you watched bleary eyed as Scott mowed down the soldiers with his lasers; his finger not straying from the button upon his goggles. A voice sounded above you, causing Scott to spin and immediately sprint towards you, he took over the hold upon you then; lifting you effectively into his arms and breaking into an immediate sprint. The jostle of his movement was the last straw; the final source of pain your body could handle. As you slipped away; slipped from consciousness, from the forest- you watched as a figure stepped further into the clearing, brandishing nothing but a long dark coat and a raised hand. The last thing you saw was the raising of hell; every last man brought to their knees as the force of the dark figure beckoned upon them.

AFTER

Thistles sung as you awoke; their tune long and drawling, carrying upon the wind that fluttered into the room. Trees just beyond the windowsill waved and chattered, their leaves basking within the midday sun. 

You awoke to their calls with a start- an intake of breath so sharp that your chest caught, a sharp strike of pain ricocheting through your belly. Cringing at the light that shone through the crack created by the stretch of curtain that didn’t quite meet the hook upon the wall, you formed your eyes into slits, peering at the room you had awoken in. It was the infirmary within the house- small, cozy but adequately equipped for the petty injuries that students with mutant abilities tend to acquire. You had accompanied a number of students to the infirmary yourself, the gardens with their thorns and brambles tended to be somewhat of a hazard to inquisitive students. 

The room was empty save for yourself; the resident healer was nowhere to be found. Even Hank, who tended to occupy the room with his technology and experiments, was absent. Adjusting the duvet upon you, you used the opportunity to unscramble your mind, to attempt to recall the events that had led you there. 

Rain, mud, light, gunfire, a dark effervescent figure. 

Sounds about right. 

Shaking your head, you moved to sit up; wincing as your body ached and creaked, your back in particular procuring a sharp burn that shot up your spine. Twisting slowly, you lifted the gown you were wearing and picked at your bandages, only to gasp. A grizzly red mark sat at the cusp of your back, tendrils of bruising and burns spanned from the focal point; the wound spread like spiderwebs, eventually meeting in identical patterns spanning over your back and hip. You could feel the pain, the burn of the baton as if it were still happening, the base still prodding upon your back as electricity coursed through your veins- muting your ability to think, see, to feel the very base of your mutant gene. 

In that moment, you struggled with that thought; turned it over and over within the palms of your hands, the reality of how easily, how simply, your mutant gene could be dulled, could be practically removed, rendering you silent, unable to think of anything but that. Before the school, before your new life, you would have jumped at the chance; burned your body until the gene that had ended your life, sent everyone you had ever loved fleeing, was gone. 

But now? 

Now, your mutant gene had given you everything; the lessons you had learned, the friendships you had made, your place within the very house you healed upon. The thought didn’t pleasure you now, it terrified you. 

Would the X-Men, the students, your friends, your family, still accept you even without the gene? If you had emerged from the attack powerless, unable to exercise your main purpose? You wondered if that was why Erik had turned such a sour note towards you, had he realised that your existence within the X-Men was fruitless? You shook the thought from your head, willing yourself to remember the way you had held those men aloft; each incapacitated by the branch that tore through their chests and left them practically dangling from your hold. 

If only Erik had been there to see that. 

Thoughts of Erik lead you directly to that cloaked figure in the clearing, the person who had saved you (alongside Scott, of course). Had it been him? Your mind whispered insidiously, the dark depths of your mind that harboured your feelings for Erik secreting poison into the, well, rational parts of your brain. 

Stop, you chastised your own mind, mentally batting away the insidious thoughts. Erik hadn’t paid any form of positive attention towards you in months, he wouldn’t drop that facade in a heartbeat just to come to your aid, surely? 

But then, no one else in the house had that form of presence. Nobody could step forward and brandish a hand, fortifying the fates of countless men, all armed to the teeth, other than Erik. His presence was always breathtaking; with his lithe, long legs and perfectly coiffed hair. Though that wasn’t the Erik you had fallen in love with, that Erik had shaggy hair and rumpled plaid shirts, pushed up to the elbow. That Erik, your Erik, kissed the girl in the garden; intertwined her petals into his own arms, clutching them between his fingers ever so gently- allowing her into the fortress made of metal. He was your own to keep, to cherish, because he lived in the safety of your own mind, locked away behind thorns and brambles never to be touched again. 

Sighing, you allowed the sadness to fill your gut for a moment, allowing yourself to bask in it; alone in that room, in an unfamiliar bed and unfamiliar clothes. 

That is how Jean found you. 

You had scrambled at the click of the lock, sitting up straight in bed and staring wide-eyed, slightly terrified at the door. A series of events had transpired then. Jean had entered, a mug of coffee balanced on one hand and a book stored beneath the same arm, and had made direct eye-contact with you, very much awake for the first time. She gasped, freezing in place for a moment before remembering the cup balanced on her hand- which was by then falling to the ground. Luckily, her telekinesis caught it just in time, leaving you staring, wide-eyed at one another as the cup and its contents hung precariously in the air. 

Jean was the first to break the silence, essentially crushing it by immediately bursting into tears, the cup finally smashing against the ground along with its contents and the book as she raced towards your bedside. “Y/N! Oh my g- I am so sorry-” 

Confused, you shook your head, moving to face her; your voice croaked brokenly before you eventually managed to speak, “Sorry? Jean you have nothing to be-” 

“No!” She interrupted you, eyes shining and tears coating her cheeks; her lips trembling all the while, “If I hadn’t have gone on that date-” 

Instantly, you shook your head, silencing her by grasping her by the hand, shaking it until she looked back at you, “This isn’t your fault, if anything, it’s Erik’s for stopping me from going on patrols in the first place.” 

Jean’s eyebrows lowered instantly, her eyes crinkling as she looked at you, confused, “Well-” 

“What is going on in here?-” Scott burst into the room then, having been summoned by the crash of the cup; he seemed ready for battle, though his fight-or-flight immediately withered upon seeing you, a grin instantly gracing his features, “You’re awake!”

“Hey Scott,” You smiled tiredly, lifting the hand that wasn’t clutching Jean’s in greeting.

“How are you feeling?” He smiled kindly, moving to pull a chair beside Jean- interestingly enough. 

Nodding, you sighed; feeling the pain within your once petrified muscles and the chill that seemed to sit within your bones. “I’m- I’m okay.” 

Both Jean and Scott looked upon you remorsefully, their eyes forlorn and mouths twisting with emotion. Scott was the first to speak, breaking eye contact and staring down at his hands, “Y/N, we-” He chewed on his lips, flexing his fingers, “We thought you were dead, I- when we got to you, you were just laying there, face down and unmoving.” 

The breath that left your nose was gusty; heavy in its weight and volume, you found yourself tearing up at his words, “Thank you for listening to me.” 

His breath resembled that of a meagre chuckle, his head shaking all the while, “That’s alright.” 

“And thank you for saving me-” 

Scott looked up immediately, his forehead creased beneath his goggles; he shared a silent look with Jean, she too opted not to speak. “Y/N-” Scott began, his posture going straight, awkward, ‘I can’t take credit for that.” 

“Sure you can. It’s the last thing I remember, you carried me-” 

“No-” Scott spoke stubbornly, refusing to take any credit, “I wasn’t the only one to help.” 

“Oh,” You spoke, shocked, despite the memory of the hand upon your face feeling all too familiar. 

“Erik was the first to reach you Y/N.” Jean spoke, her voice low, almost apologetic. 

Oh. 

You remembered then, not just the hand that had lingered upon your skin, perforated your everlasting pain with warmth and, just maybe, something akin to love. Your mind healed, and what had seemed to be poison; welling at the once-dormant temperaments of your mind, receded- the waves crashing and swelling before dissolving into a calm flow. 

Erik had saved you. 

But why? 

Had he been so furious at your inability to comply with his orders that he had taken his anger out on those soldiers before (conveniently) saving you? A job well done, a well-due pat on the back from the rest of the team for making the right call, before he inevitably celebrated his victories by screaming the walls down in your favour. 

Great, you shuddered, practically awaiting his presence; red and pulsing with fury as you had laid there, vulnerable and pained. 

All in your own stupidity. 

Jean and Scott seemed to sense your discomfort, sharing a look before both turning towards you; practically disagreeing with what they knew your internal thoughts entailed. 

Scott spoke first, his tone impeding and determined, “Y/N-” He sighed, running a hand through his hair nervously, “I’m sorry but- you didn’t see him. He was furious.” 

Chuckling, you moved to sit up, shaking your head, “Nothing new there-” 

“No, Y/N.” Jean interrupted you, her own tone identical to Scott’s severity, though her voice lowered to a whisper, “Not at you.” 

You shook your head confused, Scott spoke; cementing the gaps that Jean had created, “He almost tore the place apart whilst you were under, when he found out that you had taken Jean’s shift,” He shook his head, breathing heavily, only calming when Jean intertwined her fingers with his own, “We thought he was going to tear the house down-” 

“What?” You gasped, shaking your head, throat clogging, “Why- he doesn’t-” You paused, collecting your thoughts; the truth gaping in its clarity, “Erik hates me, he wouldn’t-” 

“I think you need to talk to him Y/N,” Jean’s tone was firm, almost angered, “I know what he did to you but- something isn’t right. A man doesn’t act like that when someone he hates almost dies.” 

Jean and Scott didn’t stay much longer than that; the confusion and the clarity of almost dying rendering you exhausted. Jean left with a kiss to your forehead, a promise to return, a command to heed her advice. 

Despite being allowed short walks throughout the house, you didn’t leave the room until your discharge a week later; with only your thoughts, and the occasional visitor to accompany you, you utilised them a lot that week. That long, drawn-out week. The days limped by, minutes feeling like hours; yet still, your mind allowed no time for outside entertainment. On the second day, Jean bought you a collection of your own clothes, smiling sadly as she saw you slumped against the headboard, eyes misty as you watched the trees beyond the window. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to your own room?” She had whispered, stroking the hair away from your eyes, ‘I made sure your favourite sheets are on the bed..” 

Shaking your head, you turned your eyes to her, mustering your best reassuring smile, “No, I’m okay here.” 

He’ll be able to find me there, you had thought to yourself, watching Jean’s back as she left; eyes latching upon the door even after it had been pulled to a close. 

Eventually, the week came to a close and you were fully healed; physically cleared to embark on X-Men missions whenever you wished. As you walked to your own room, a bag of dirty clothes tucked securely beneath your arm, you found yourself eyeing every corner, waiting for Erik to turn it; practically creeping through the house, the necessity of not making a sound hanging over the creaks of your movements upon the floorboards.

Part of you, that insidious part of your brain that sung at the worst of times and had apparently grown and swelled in your solitude, hoped that Erik would turn one of those corners; crash right into you and be forced to speak to you- finally, after all these months. 

It took you two weeks to muster up the courage to go back to your garden, Jean sneakily having slipped the state, or lack of, of the plants within your garden; no student able to match your own power. With a huff, and many puffs, you pulled on your dirtiest clothes and trekked down to the garden. The scent of jasmine wafted upon you like a fresh breath of air as you pulled off your shoes, hand clutched against the gate of the garden for balance. After a number of pairs had been lost to the swell of the bushes with many an evening spent searching for them, Erik had eventually rolled his eyes and forged a small metal shelf; just big enough to safely slide your shoes into them. You had kept it there, beside the gate, even after his rejection, its convenience too precious to your time in the garden. 

However, when you went to slide your shoes into place; another pair of shoes already sat there. 

“I see you kept my creation.” A voice behind you spoke; your breath immediately sped, heart thundering in your ears. Slowly, carefully, terror filling your veins and pulsing at your fingertips: you turned, immediately coming face to face with Erik. Erik, with his broad-shoulders and messy hair; lips turning upwards discreetly beneath his crooked nose; his gorgeous, beautiful crooked nose. As the usual residual shock mellowed, the love you felt for him receding slightly; the anger took over; teeth gritting and fist curling anger. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt your time-”

“What do you want Erik?” You spat, lip curling in anger; your own torrid emotions instantly combatting his calm front as he tensed immediately; his eyebrows lowering in confusion, his hackles raising slightly. 

“Well-”

“What are you doing here?” Voice lower than a whisper, your words were almost a replica of your previous demand, almost. The tremble of your voice manufactured a shell of your anger, cracking and splintering at the seams. You found yourself trembling; staring straight at him, fear, dread, something awful prevalent in your eyes. 

Erik’s eyes widened, his lips pursing; he looked as if he was on the verge of retreating, waving the white flag, calling the truce. You knew that wasn’t him though; if Erik was going to do one thing, it would not be backing down from a fight. You watched as he visibly rebuilt his walls, composing himself before speaking, “I wanted to see how your recovery is going,” He paused, visibly attempting and failing to string his words together, “So that you can get back out onto the field.” 

Truly, you could have laughed; a hacking cough right in his face, right at his words. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The anger burning the back of your throat and fizzing in the air, lingering upon the garden’s roots, stopped any semblance of amusement, procuring only venom; only white-hot anger. Shaking your head, malice filling your tastebuds, you spat in his face, the sound of it echoing against the walls of the garden, “Back in the field?” Your amusement returned immediately, but it was manic; frenzied, “Your refusement to put me on patrols; your adamance that I be benched? That is what put me in this position.” 

You only felt slightly guilty as he slowly reached upwards, wiping the saliva that had landed directly upon his chin. “Y/N, you know I didn’t mean-” He seemed desperate, voice almost pathetic, his hands clenching at his sides; seemingly stopping himself from reaching for something. 

“We were supposed to be equals, Erik.” You interrupted, voice calm; frighteningly collected. 

“We were!” He objected, his own voice now seeming frenzied. You could only shake your head, unable to face him, unable to face his willingness to lie. 

“Then why? Why did you treat me that way? Why the sudden change?” Demanding, you fired off the questions in a spitfire manner, allowing him no true chance to procure an appropriate answer. 

“I had good reason-” 

“Good reason, my ass. This is the first time you’re not yelling at me in-” 

“Will you let me speak?” Erik’s words shocked you to the core; his voice abrupt and loud, nostrils flared and chest heaving. You could only muster a nod, silenced in the face of his outburst. He too nodded then, scratching at the stubble upon his jaw nervously; his demeanour changed entirely, almost shrinking within himself. “Do you know how worried I was about you?” The question shocked you; you expected anger, fury- but his eyes remained soberingly soft, gaze sad. He continued in the wake of your silence, “I knew something was wrong before Scott even reached the house; but when Charles told me that he couldn’t hear your thoughts anymore and then-” He swallowed thickly, his gaze straying from yours to the ground, he cleared his throat before continuing, “Then I saw you face down in the grass and-” 

“I’m sorry,” You whimpered, sniffling into the palms of your hands as they moved to cover your eyes, “I’m sorry I’m so useless-” 

“No.” Erik’s tone was demanding, his grip severe as he moved to lower your hands from your eyes; his face was stricken, lips downturned and jaw trembling as he looked down at you. His hands moved upwards then, cupping the skin of your cheeks,  “You were, are, incredible; you were a fighter out there Y/N, so so strong; and-” 

Moving from his grip, you shrunk into yourself, finding any semblance of comfort, respite from your own conflicted mind, within the embrace of your own arms, “Then why- why did you treat me that way?” Harried, hagged breaths heaved from your chest as you stared at him, confusion and shock and disgust prevalent within your demeanour, “You were awful to me, ever since-” 

“No, Y/N, please-” 

Stepping forward, coaxing the shock he made available to you forward; you went straight for the kill, voice lower than a whisper but sharper than a knife, “Why did you leave me here?” His inhale was sharp, lips quivering and wet; eyes sheening with tears. He incessantly attempted to hide his sadness, his fear; but you could see it clear as day. Stepping directly into his orbit, you rubbed your nose against his jaw, lips brushing against the base of his neck, “What are you so afraid of, Erik?” You repressed your shock masterfully when you felt his hands encase your waist, his head lowering to the crook of your neck; you waited, waited for him to lay his lips there, waited for him to devour you whole. Though he only cried, quiet shudders as the skin of your neck grew clammy from his tears and the moisture of his breaths. Instincts succumbed to hunger, rendering you silent as you simply stood there and practically drank the affection; the linen of his shirt brushing against your chest, your mouth against his hair, the smell of his musk and the oaky shampoo he had always used. You were being greedy, overindulging on the touch he was offering you in his lowest moments- you never wanted him to let go, wanted him to raise his head and- 

He did exactly that. 

You could only gasp against his mouth as he pressed his lips to yours, his hands moved to cup the sides of your neck as he practically devoured you. With greed and hunger and lust still residually pumping through your veins, you could only thread your fingers through his hair; desperate to reclaim what you had lost all those months ago. He seemed to not know exactly what to do with his hands, too indecisive to choose a specific spot; you gasped and moaned as his fingertips skirted your sides and front and back, his tongue entering your mouth at the opportunity you allowed him. Any semblance of apologies or hatred had vacated your mind by the time his hands reached the bottom of your thighs, only able to gasp as he effectively lifted you against a nearby wall; the cold of the concrete against your back was nothing compared to the warmth in your mouth and chest and unsurprisingly, your groin. Just as you had mustered the confidence to reach down, to pull at the ends of his shirt; he pulled away, lips red and shining, eyes hooded. 

The only word he seemed to manage to gasp was your name, the syllables spoken wetly into the space between your lips; you stared into his eyes, not blinking, not breathing. Erik seemed to be at war with himself, his eyes flitting conflictingly from your lips back to your eyes. Allowing him the time, you simply stared back, blinking owlishly as you awaited the confession that seemed to be brewing. Finally, he came to a conclusion; his eyes clearing, gaze taking a sense of clarity you had not yet seen in him before. Shaking his head, he chewed at his lip, moving his hand to cup the back of your head; allowing it to tilt back slightly, you were prone beneath his gaze.

“I was just trying to protect you.” His lips curled as he spoke, blue eyes brimming with tears. 

You moved forward at his words, pressing a kiss to the crinkle of emotion at the side of his mouth, “What from?” Your voice was quieter than a whisper, more of a movement of lips rather than a true form of speech. 

Once again, Erik shook his head; tears now spilling from his cheeks, “I’m sorry.” 

“What from, Erik?” 

“Myself.” 

He whispered the words immediately, his eyes closing in turn; his head bowing into your awaiting palm, the course points of his stubble creasing against your fingertips. 

Shaking your head, you watched him, “You were so mean.” 

Swallowing visibly, Erik met your gaze; his eyes doughy beneath a stray hair breaching his forehead. He, almost, grinned; teeth flashing and lips curling, “I don’t know how to be nice.” 

“You were nice to me.” Nodding, you moved your thumb to trace his lips; dragging along the sharp points of his teeth, breaching the jaws of the wolf. 

“I destroy everything I touch Y/N-” 

“Well, I can revive things,” Smiling, you removed your thumb from his lips, placing your own there instead for a chaise kiss. Pulling away, you repeated your words, “I can revive it, Erik.”

Grinning, truly now, Erik lowered his stance before rolling his forhead against yours, brushing your noses together in a dance only known to yourselves, “Let me help you,” He smiled, voice mellow in its tone, “Let me help you fix us.”

[kirain]

Sigh....Galemancers really love to move the goal post when it comes to the grooming accusations huh? You found out Gale was a fully grown MAN when Mystra slept with him so now you have to say, "Well then he was emotionally groomed and the power dynamic is too vast." Mystra is a neutral good goddess because she's Midnight, who was a neutral good human. She hates that her magic has to be used for good and evil. Ao makes her share it evenly but she'd rather not. She would never do anything to hurt Gale. The writers of the game even confirmed she's not a groomer. People like you also downplay the point of Gale's entire story arc, which is he should've listened to Mystra! The whole point of his personal quest is he needs to learn to humble himself and listen to his goddess! He has no one to blame for his downfall but himself.

There's no "post" to move, anon. The game and lore give us all the context we need. Grooming doesn't only apply to children, and people have proven right and left that Mystra is terrible at relationships. She's petty and abusive when she isn't obeyed by her partners, and that's been the case with all of her iterations. Even the narrator describes her as a "jealous goddess" when you visit her shrine. Plus, your information is wrong on many accounts; the most pertinent being that the Mystra of BG3/5E isn't technically Midnight. Cyric and Shar killed her, reducing her to her godly essence (lore-wise that means she died). The current Mystra is an amalgamation of the vestiges of Mystryl, Mystra, and Midnight, as told in the novel Elminster Enraged.

Now, this is about to get complicated, as it always does with Mystra, so from here on out I'll be referring to Mystra #1 as Mystryl, Mystra #2 as Mystra #2, Mystra #3 as Midnight, and Mystra #4 as 5E Mystra. Alright, let's get started.

Elminster had to reform the fallen goddess by giving her fragments of all three iterations of Mystra. Since all three iterations are combined, our current 5E Mystra embodies the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. There's even a conversation with The Simbul (one of the Seven Sisters and a Chosen of Mystra) where the newly reformed 5E Mystra speaks of Elminster as her "longest lover". This puzzles The Simbul because that was something of the old Mystra (Mystra #2), not Midnight. The new 5E Mystra replies that she has become a combination of the memories of Mystryl, Mystra #2, and Midnight. This is all in chapter 25-30 of Elminster Enraged. I know it's confusing, but in short: 5E Mystra is not Midnight anymore, and the leading mind is clearly that of Mystra #2, hence her extremely poor judgement—a recurring theme with her character.

Mystryl and Mystra #2 were originally lawful neutral. The alignment changed to neutral good when Midnight took up the mantle, because Midnight herself was a neutral good person. But now it seems 5E Mystra is true neutral, because you are right, anon; Ao won't allow her to do whatever she wants. Midnight tried and was forbidden. 5E Mystra absolutely does not have the same level of humanity or kindness as Midnight, and that may be because Mystryl had no human consciousness and Mystra #2 was a mess.

Regardless of her alignment, she must embody her domain by Ao's decree, which means she needs to spread magic across all Realmspace. Since she has to maintain the balance, she approaches good, neutral, and evil mages with potential opportunities. This isn't a criticism (that's just how godhood works), but rather proof that Mystra is absolutely capable of good and bad. I don't want to hear any more of this "she's a precious little bean and Gale's victim" nonsense. Even if she wants to be, she's not. As Kikitakite said in their post, she's done some fucked up things.

Whether or not the writers intended to make Mystra a groomer, that's exactly what they did. Sometimes writers don't realise they've written an abusive character until they're criticised. Take writer of The Notebook, Nicholas Sparks, for example. He didn't realise he'd written Noah to be an abusive piece of shit until Ryan Gosling pointed it out himself. Gosling has gone on record many times to say he hates Noah, and experts have labeled him an unrealistic and emotionally abusive/manipulative character. The same can be said for Stephenie Meyer, who wrote some of the most celebrated toxic relationships in recent media—with a dash of borderline pedophilia on the side. Therapists have weighed in extensively to tell people that Bella and Edward's relationship isn't healthy and shouldn't be emulated in real life. Indeed, perhaps the best thing to come out of the entire franchise is Robert Pattinson's hatred of Edward and the series as a whole. Jacob's actor, Taylor Lautner, even argued with Meyer's on set because of how weird the "imprinting" segment was and he didn't want to come off as predatory. Meyer argued it was "romantic". 😕

Even if you don't agree Gale was groomed, Mystra is flagrantly responsible for his insecurities and she never should've put her hands on him. The power dynamic is too vast, and even god Gale (conceited as he is) realises it by the end. He only stays in a relationship with Tav if they allow him to ascend them alongside him as his equal. He recognises that anything else would be unhealthy and unacceptable. Also, I researched high and low regarding your claim, but none of the devs have dispelled the idea that Mystra is a groomer. In fact, the most I could find was one dev simply saying, "To Gale it was love, but he didn't know any better." If anything, that only confirms he was confused and didn't know what to do. Their "relationship" was a stunningly horrible idea from the start and that's not on Gale, it's on the literal cosmic being who initiated it.

Moreover, Gale was very likely 17 when Mystra revealed herself to him. This perfectly fits into the 5E Forgotten Realms timeline. If so, no, he absolutely wasn't a grown man. He was a teenager. Mystra may not have slept with him until he was in his 20's, but that still makes it a disgusting teacher-turned-lover situation. Gale even tells us he was "young" when she took him into her fold, and he was only eight years old when Elminster started their lessons. Remember, Elminster is Mystra's biggest apologist. He would've taught Gale to revere her, which means there was almost never a point in his life when Mystra wasn't the main focus. You can tell by the way he speaks about her in Act 1. He's in awe, he's excited, he's proud she chose him. That does something to a child. Something irreversible. If anything, Elminster is complicit in what happened. I've said this before, but he couldn't even be bothered to visit Gale himself. He sent a simulacrum.

As for your accusation that I'm "downplaying" Gale's story arc—you're damn right I am, because the writers made me! Most D&D players I know aren't very happy with how Mystra is portrayed in the game, and that's probably because even they know she isn't presented in a very flattering light. If you really think about it, it's obvious what the writers were going for, but they failed. For example, you said Gale should've listened to Mystra, right? Well, in Act 1 he admits his ambition was his undoing, blames himself for his downfall, and by Act 2 he's literally ready to off himself for her. In fact, he's the only one who sees her ultimatum as justified. Every other companion says she's being cruel and unreasonable. If Gale actually blows himself up at the end of Act 2, the results are catastrophic. The brain is destroyed, yes, but the tadpoles, free of the Absolute's control, complete their transformation and infect/enslave the entire Sword Coast. Anon. She. Is. Stupid. Even the Narrator is like, "You wanna ... you wanna try that again?"

The entirety of Act 2 is Gale learning he shouldn't listen to Mystra. And then she has the audacity to lecture him in Act 3? If he'd listened, it would've been the end of everything. Maybe if Mystra was as infallible as she pretends to be, she would've put her three brains together and came up with a better, less vindictive plan. Because make no mistake, she wanted Gale to blow up in Act 2, which is ridiculous. I know this is an uncomfortable topic for some people, but gods aren't perfect, especially in fiction. They're flawed. They're selfish. Some of them are straight up assholes. The real irony of Gale's arc isn't that he has no one to blame but himself, it's that Mystra should blame herself. At no point does she even consider if she's being unreasonable or unfair. There's no self reflection whatsoever. And the writers expect me to think Gale's full of himself? I wonder where he got it.

Probably from his teacher. ✋🎤

[anneapocalypse]

On Wuk Lamat, and Female Characters in FFXIV

The Thing with Wuk Lamat is you can tell me you think she had too much screentime; you can give me numbers on how many lines she had or how many scenes she's in relative to other characters or other expacs; you can prove to me "objectively" that she gets more focus than other main NPCs; you're simply not going to convince me that this is something I should be unhappy about. And not just because it's silly to think you can use numbers to prove a story is good or bad and make someone else go, "Wow, you're right, let me just throw away all the joy I experienced with this story and revise my opinion because you've scientifically proven to me that I'm wrong."

Because while I love Final Fantasy XIV and I have greatly enjoyed its story in so many ways, fundamentally one of my biggest beefs with this game has been how much female characters have been denied complex character arcs and growth and agency and interiority.

Minfilia gets treated as a sacrificial vessel who lives for everyone but herself and doesn't even get to have feelings about her own death because that entire arc is focused on a male character's angst about it instead. The game tells us in the Heavensward patches that Krile sees Minfilia as her best friend and then just forgets about that later and never follows up on what that loss must have meant to her. Ysayle is basically right about most of what she's fighting for but harboring a bit of self-delusion is apparently such a terrible sin that she has to pay for it with her life, while her male foil is deemed so worthy of salvation that there's a whole plot point about how important it is that we risk our lives and others' lives to save him. Y'shtola is a major character who's been around since the beginning, and the game keeps dropping maddeningly interesting things about her (apprenticed to a cranky old witch in a cave! saved her own life and the lives of her friends with an illegal and dangerous spell and it worked! reserved and undemonstrative yet regularly through her actions reveals herself to be deeply caring! disabled!) and then shows complete disinterest in following up on any of those things with the kind of depth and care shown to male characters with complex arcs like Urianger.

In general there is also a repeated thread of female characters being portrayed as weak or overly emotional: Minfilia is weak because she doesn't fight and needs to be eaten by a god in order to gain "a strength long sought." Krile is portrayed as not being able to pull her weight with the Scions (despite the fact that she actively keeps five of them from dying in Shadowbringers) and the only thing they could think of for her to do in Endwalker was be yet another vessel for Hydaelyn (hmm, that sounds familiar) and it's not until Dawntrail that she gets much actual character development in the main story and even that has to come alongside "Look, she can fight now so that means she's useful." (And I love Picto!Krile, I'm just saying, there's a pattern.) Alisaie, despite having very good reasons for needing to find her own path apart from her brother, is portrayed as having to prove herself when she returns, that she's "not the girl she once was," and "will not be a burden" (while Alphinaud is repeatedly given the benefit of the doubt and reassurance and affirmation from other characters even after he takes on responsibilities he isn't ready for and fucks up big time).

And if you follow me you know I adore Urianger, and I love Alphinaud and Thancred and Estinien too, so please don't misunderstand what I'm saying here! I'm not knocking those characters, or saying we shouldn't also love them. I just use them as a comparison to demonstrate how the female characters have been neglected.

Lyse has some of the stronger character development among the female Scions, and while she's still kind of portrayed as being too emotional and hotheaded in early Stormblood, I think it's actually explored in more depth in a way that I like; Lyse has good reasons for wanting to fight for her nation's freedom, but having been away from Ala Mhigo for several years now, she needs to understand the stakes for the people who've been there fighting for years, what they've lost and still have to lose. She grows as a person and rises to the challenge of leadership, and I'm even okay with the fact that she leaves the Scions afterward because it feels right for her to stay in Ala Mhigo, and at least she doesn't die.

And by all accounts she was, like Wuk Lamat, widely hated when her expansion came out.

Unironically I think the other female Scion with the strongest character arc is Tataru. She tries to take up a combat job, finds that it's not for her, and decides to focus on where her strengths are instead. In doing so, she both holds the Scions together as an organization in the absence of a leader by capably managing their finances, and also comes into her own as a businesswoman and makes international connections that benefit both the Scions and her personally. In contrast to Minfilia, she's not portrayed as weak because she doesn't fight, and is actually allowed to be an important character who's good for more than being sacrificed. Tataru is still distinctly in a supporting role for the player character, however, and her character arc happens as a side story that takes up a relatively small amount of screentime over several expansions, which I think is probably why she doesn't evoke such a negative reaction.

But there is a pattern of the game's writing showing disinterest in the interior lives of female characters generally, and in making their growth the focus of a story.

So yeah, I'm going to be happy about Wuk Lamat! I'm going to enjoy and celebrate every moment of her character arc, of her personal growth, of watching her put the lessons she's learned into action. I'm going to love and treasure every moment when she gets to be silly, embarrassing, emotional, scared, grieving, confused, upset, seasick, impulsive, and still deemed worthy of growing into a hero and a leader. I will love her with all of my soul and you simply will not convince me that it wasn't worth the screentime after such a profound imbalance for basically the entirety of the game. We've never had a major female character get such a strong arc with this much love and attention put into it and that means more to me than I can truly say. The backlash to it is disheartening, as this kind of thing always is, but I'm not going to let it ruin the wonderful experience I had playing it and how much joy it continues to bring me.

And for those of you who don't want any of that for a female character, thank goodness you have Heavensward and Shadowbringers and Endwalker and no one can take those away from you.

(And if you follow me you know that I love Shadowbringers and Endwalker and have very fond memories of Heavensward despite some issues with it, so not only can I not take that from you, I am not trying to!)

Some of us have been real hungry for a character like this with an arc like this, so, I think, y'know, maybe we can have that. As a treat.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my gf's son not to call me dad?

I (22M) have been dating my gf (24F) for 4 years now. She has a 7 year old whose dad isn't in the picture anymore - he hasn't been since the kid was born. My gf says he was abusive and I think there are some charges against him but as far as I know, nothing was proven. He has other kids too who he does have a relationship with but he doesn't have custody rights with my gf's son so they hasn't been allowed to have a relationship.

My gf and I live together and are both in college. I am going to be a surgeon and she wants to study science but she hasn't decided what to do with it yet. Because we're both busy with that, her son doesn't live with us full time. He stays with her parents during the week. This means that we have to dedicate our weekends to looking after the kid. I didn't really mind this at first but her parents are really pushing for her to look after him during the week now too, which we don't have time for. I hear how that doesn't sound great but the plan has always been that her parents will take care of the kid until she finishes with school. She has classes for 4+ hours from Mon-Thurs, plus she needs to spend a few hours studying every day, then she has labs on Friday for most of the day. I have classes all week for fewer hours each day but next semester I'll probably be doing an internship so I'll have more work to do. Then we pick up her kid on Friday evenings and spend the whole weekend with him. There's hardly any time for us to spend time alone together. I like her son and he's usually fun to have around but both of us are obviously stressed from having no down time so most weekends my gf and her son get into an argument or something and things escalate. I try not to get involved when that happens. Sometimes my gf and I are the ones who end up arguing and in that case, I usually go to my parents house.

Basically, I'm not super involved with the kid. Her parents want us to spend all of our free time on parenting despite originally agreeing that it was better if my gf focused on school. He has a dad who could probably be more involved but my gf and her family don't want him around. I've suggested that maybe it would be a better solution for her son to live with his dad full time, that way she can focus on school and then her career and still have time for herself and for us. I love her but she doesn't really have maternal instincts and she doesn't actually want kids, she has said a lot that she regrets not giving him up for adoption.

Recently, we were out for dinner with my gf's sister and kid, and the kid called me his dad. He's done this a lot and usually I just kind of ignore it, but no one else corrected him this time and I felt like the kid deserved the truth. I asked him then and there not to call me dad because he has a real dad who probably wouldn't like it. He didn't seem upset by it but my gf's sister lost it. She thinks I don't want the kid around and that I'm the reason my gf doesn't spend more time with him. She also thinks this was the first time my gf's son heard about his bio dad. Total conjecture, but she won't hear my side of it. The kid knows I havent been around since he was born so he obviously knows someone else must be his dad. I told my gf I don't think it's fair to let the kid call me dad when he has a real dad out there and she sort of agrees. She told her son not to call me dad anymore and they had a long talk about it. She still doesn't want the real dad involved but that's a whole other battle.

Here's why I think I might be the asshole: I said this to the kid in a moment of annoyance, which probably wasn't the way to bring it up. Like I said, he didn't seem upset by it but I wasn't there for the longer conversation so I don't know exactly. I think he's old enough to be allowed to know about his real dad in a more serious way. It's kind of messed up that he could run into his dad in the street (we live in a pretty small town) and wouldn't know it. I'm not his dad and for the foreseeable future, I won't be responsible for him as a parent because he still lives with his grandparents. I think it's reasonable to say that he shouldn't call me dad. So, AITA?

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 4 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): homophobia becomes a central theme. mention of a close dead relative. internalized misogyny.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 5

You were sitting on the grass under the bleachers when Janis 'Imi'ike came up to you.

"I'm not selling right now." You said, suspecting she was here to see about buying alcohol or something. You had a contact and made a small bit in commissions around the school selling stuff.

"I'm- what? What're you selling?" Oh, well, guess not then.

"Nothing." You didn't want to incriminate yourself. It was bad enough you were smoking a cigarette right this moment. You took another drag. Usually, you didn't smoke during school but today was turning out to be a shittier day than usual.

"I'm not a nark, I could-" She seemed to shake herself. "Anyway. Why did you come to school with Regina today?"

"You saw that?" You inquired, alarmed but making an attempt to hide it.

"Yes. Now, why?"

"We live on the same street. Her car was having issues." You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"How'd you know her car was having issues?" She did not seem inclined to just let it go. It was beginning to annoy you.

"Because I fix it from time to time. Like I said, we live on the same street. We're not friends or anything." While you didn't like lying, especially not when you yourself were bitter about it, protecting Regina's rep was more important.

"I think that's a lie. We went to the same middle school for a while. You were close back then." She accused, crouching to be at level with you. You were officially annoyed now.

"You used to be close too." You took another drag and, noticing your cig was on its last leg, stamped it on the ground. "And how'd that turn out?"

Janis gritted her teeth. "Not well."

"Exactly." You gave her a tight, snarky smile and stood up. "Bye."

"Wait a minute!" She jogged after you as you made for the school building. "I'm not done!"

"I think you are." You called back, hastening your step. "There's nothing for us to talk about, Janis."

"Dude! You're being a huge dick right now." Janis caught up to you, gesturing as if she were offended. "Why are you so touchy?"

"I'm not touchy, I'm pissed that a stranger is getting all up in my business." You informed her curtly. "Lay off."

She held her hands up in surrender, an infuriating smirk on her face. "What business do you have with Regina?"

You halted and dropped your backpack on the ground. "What is your problem?" You advanced on her, not exactly squaring up but still getting a little too close for comfort.

"Woah, protective, aren't you?" She wasn't intimidated in the least. That only angered you more. "Has she ditched Cady already and found a new pet?"

"If I were you, I'd watch my mouth." You said as menacingly as you could.

"We could help each other out, y'know." She said, playing innocent.

"Why would I help you with anything?"

"Because she hurt both of us." You had to agree with that, however reluctantly. "I want revenge. She needs to go down." Now, that you did not agree with.

"What do you mean?" If they were planning a coup or something, you needed to get the details. You wouldn't be putting up with that shit.

"Cady's gotten an in with the Plastics." You'd never liked that stupid nickname Janis insisted on using. "She's still on the fence about them, but it's only a matter of time before I'm proven right."

"You've infiltrated the popular girl group like 007, great, because Regina wronged you somehow in middle school? Grow up." You rolled your eyes and picked up your backpack.

"She outed me, you douche!" She exclaimed before probably even thinking about it. Realizing what she'd said, she glanced around warily. Nobody was nearby since you were away from the courtyard.

Okay. Well. That made this a lot more complicated. You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was the exact reason you hung around skaters and stoner-wannabes. At least their drama was about graffiti and who had the good kush, not about whatever the fuck this was. You weren't aware you were living in a teen drama.

"Okay." You breathed in deeply. You did not want to be involved, no matter how justified Janis could've been. However, you needed information if you wanted to get in the way. "What've you got?"

A mean grin nearly split her face. Then, in just a second, it melted away. "You won't tell anybody, right? About, uh, that earlier-"

"I sell drugs behind the school, dude." You put it flatly. "You have more flak on me."

"True." She conceded. "So..."

Their plans weren't very well constructed, to be fair. Janis wanted to prove to Cady that Regina was a bitch, her words, and that was sort of just a waiting game. In the meantime, they were collecting information. So far they'd found out about the Burn Book, supposedly a scrapbook that Regina and her friends had filled with mean things about everybody at Northshore. Staff and teachers included. Apparently, Cady hadn't had much time to peruse it, so neither Janis nor you were in it for all she knew.

The concept made you nervous. You could very well be in that book and Cady just hadn't seen it. If everybody was in it, including nobodies like Mary Stigson and Amber D'Alessio, the chance was incredibly high.

You didn't even know what she could've written about you. Over the years you'd shared incredibly vulnerable bits of information with her. She'd shared with you too, but you weren't in any position to weaponize her secrets. You'd been through embarrassing moments that just the two of you knew of, had seen each other cry and rage and experience all sorts of overwhelming emotions, had made it through mortifying tweenhood phases together.

Regina could've written your whole life story, the nastiest highlights at least, without breaking a sweat.

You were like a zombie for the rest of the day. Barely paying attention in class, twirling a pencil in your fingers listlessly as whatever teacher went on and on. You looked up when a sharp, female voice called your name. You apologized to Ms Norbury and pretended to start working.

Calculus class, huh? You looked around, trying to be inconspicuous. You met eyes with Cady Heron. She quickly turned back to her work, writing numbers furiously. So Janis had told her about their new accomplice. Of course, you had every intention to tattle first thing once you talked to Regina again.

You knew she wouldn't want to be seen leaving with you, so you shot her a text that you'd be behind the bleachers waiting. You were her ride, after all. It would've been rude to leave her.

Relaxing somewhere quiet and alone wasn't too bad. You lifted your headphones over your ears and put on a Nirvana CD. Just this morning Regina had called you 'a hobo with a liking for grunge', or something along those lines. You did so love proving her right.

You lit a cigarette in honour of Kurt and closed your eyes. Something about this day, the utterly exhausting events, made you desperate to feel some release. Ever since dropping Regina off, you'd been a fucking mess. Janis having seen the whole thing and then coming to conspire against Queen Bee hadn't helped. You wished things could be spelt out for you.

Did Regina like you? Yes or no. You knew it wasn't that simple, that things weren't simple for her like they were for you. You liked her and so it was easy to let her walk all over you. You liked her so, of course, you sided with her even when Janis and you had a camaraderie. You liked her and so you chose not to think about the horrible thing she'd done to Janis.

Was it only a matter of time before she'd use that secret against you, too? Did it hang above your head even now?

"Hey, loser, stub the cig and let's get outta here. I'm sick of this joint."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You opened your eyes and looked up at Regina. "Certainly not your father."

"What daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." She offered her hand to pull you up. "C'mon. I have a nail appointment to get to."

You hauled yourself up with her help. Over-balancing a little bit you tipped into her space, and for a moment there you breathed the same air. You took a hasty step back and tuned back into the conversation.

"And- and how're you gonna get there?" You already knew.

"We don't have enough time to go to mine first, so..." She smiled sweetly at you, getting that calculating look in her eye as she grabbed your arm and pulled it close to her chest. Looking up at you through her lashes, long nails stroking down your forearm, a smile so alluring it was evil on her face, she knew she had you. You couldn't say no.

Gulping, you inclined your head. "I'll take you."

"Thanks, babe." And with that, she pressed her purse into your arms to carry and skipped ahead.

Fuck. Fuck. You closed your eyes and fought off a groan. You'd almost forgotten the crush you'd nursed for her back then. It hadn't ever left, you knew that much, but it hadn't smacked you in the face quite like this before. You were familiar with moments that made your heart beat fast, scenarios that played on a loop in your head, and dreams you could never really make sense of. Now, though, hearing her call you babe and the physical reaction it evoked, there was no plausible explanation other than the obvious fact: You had a crush on Regina George.

You knew—knew—that it was hopeless. There was no world in which you and Regina could be a thing. Or maybe there was, but that was a pipe dream you'd do no good in entertaining. Your dad didn't care about who you dated, but you were sure he would be none too pleased. Regina's dad was a whole other case. He was way stricter than your dad, though just as distant.

You'd done this before. It would be fine. Admittedly, back when you'd been actively crushing on Regina you had been twelve and under. Back then you'd still tolerated skirts and girly hairstyles. Back then it'd been socially acceptable to cling to your friend like a koala, kiss her cheeks and hold her hand. If you tried that shit now, especially looking like you did, it would not slide.

(You'd been called slurs around the halls before. While you didn't generate much rumours or hubbub, you knew that you existed in people's peripherals in a certain way. They'd snidely ask if you liked the Ellen Show. Make vile hand gestures at you when you passed by. Garry Fort, resident church boy and social outcast, had even offered to pray for you. You had refused.)

"Jorts! Get a move on!" Regina shouted, a good distance away.

"Yeah yeah," You muttered, but picked up the pace.

"What took you so long?" She asked as she settled into the front seat.

"Lost in thought, I guess." Waxing melancholy about how we could never be together, sweetums. You opted not to say that. "So, where's this appointment?"

"Just drive to town, I'll give instructions."

"Sure thing." You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on the steering wheel. You hadn't had your licence for long but you'd been driving for much longer than that. You were a good driver. Back when you'd been young enough for your dad to feel obligated to spend time with you, he'd taken you to some backroads and taught you. Then, when that stopped, you'd done it illegally. Hey, girls gotta keep busy somehow.

"What's on your mind?" Regina asked, breaking the silence that'd turned uncomfortable.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." You swallowed. "How was your day?"

"How was my day, seriously?" She turned her body to face you, arms crossed and a displeased look on her face. "What is it?"

You tried to think of something to say. You didn't want to ruin her whole day by revealing she had a spy, of all things. You'd planned on waiting a little bit before telling her. You would've maybe taken her for a ride and then gently broken the news.

So, that was a bust.

"Cady Heron is spying on you. She's retelling everything you're doing together with Gretchen and Karen to Janis and her friend Damien Leigh." You blurted it all out. "I was smoking in my usual spot and she just came up to me. And, uh, recruited me. Apparently, she saw you leave my car this morning."

"What?" Regina screeched, face slack with shock as well as strained with fear, panic, and all sorts of jumbled emotions. "Did anybody else see?"

"I don't know!" Your shoulders lifted all the way up to your ears in a panicked shrug. Her emotions were rubbing off on you and you did not like it. "Did people act weird around you today?"

"No," She paused to think. "No, everything was fine. Karen liked my top."

"You mean my top?" You corrected.

"Whatever." Regina looked out of the window contemplatively. "Are you plotting against me?"

You rolled your eyes, and took your sights off the road for a second to shoot her a look. "If I was, would I be telling you?"

"I dunno, I vividly remember you being sorta stupid."

"Wow, thanks, Reg, that's high praise coming from you. Only sorta."

"Shut up. You're so annoying." She unfolded her arms and leaned back in the seat. "Cady Heron. A spy."

"Janis told me, and I quote: "She needs to go down." Which was pretty dramatic in my opinion." Regina didn't say anything. "I mean, we're in high school."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Regina inspected her nails. Pretty acrylics, sharp and lethal, decorated with gems and swirls. A little grown out, sure, but still in perfect condition.

"I just mean that..." You thought about what you wanted to say. "Y'know, on average women in America die, like, between seventy and eighty years old. We're less than a quarter of that right now. Five years from now, I bet the problems we have now will seem stupid and insignificant. And then five years, or ten, from that, the issues then will look the same way."

"Morbid." She turned to look at you. You couldn't tell what her expression was like, in the middle of changing lanes to pass a car going way under the limit. "Are you always this philosophical?"

"I could be. If you wanted me to be." You wondered if that edged a little too close to flirty.

"No. It's insufferable." You didn't know how to respond to that. "I don't fucking care about the grand scheme of things. My problems aren't stupid or insignificant now, so it's no fucking use thinking, oh, it'll all be fine with time! Well, it won't be, if I don't do something right now." She ranted, waving her hands as she did. "And I will argue that women die much earlier than that."

"It's a statistic, Reg-"

"No, women die at menopause at the latest. They get sad, saggy and undesirable and they die." She said with such conviction that it shook you. "When you stop being beautiful, it's all over."

"Regina, that's..." Wrong. Incorrect. A horrible way to think. "I don't think that's true."

"Women like my mom have nothing to offer. When dad stopped wanting her and started looking elsewhere, when she stopped being asked out at the grocery store and they started asking me, when Kylie poked at her flab and asked what her stretch marks were, she died."

Listening to her talk like that, about her mom nonetheless, was heartbreaking. Still, you couldn't help getting angry. "Your mom is alive and well, Reg. Your dad cheating isn't her fault, it's him being an awful human being. Being asked out at the grocery store isn't like receiving a fucking Nobel prize. Flab and stretch marks are what you did to her body. What Kylie did to her body." You bit your lip when it started wobbling. You bit down harshly to stop it.

You continued even when your voice crackled. "My mom's always gonna be young and beautiful. She's gonna always gonna have smooth, wrinkle-free skin. I won't get to ask about her flab or stretch marks. Not ever." Regina was quiet. You could feel her eyes on you. "You don't get to complain about growing old. Mrs George's been like a mom to me, you know that, so don't fucking insult her in front of me. You can get all the botox and surgeries you want, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to that shit."

"Sorry." She said, quietly. She'd never been good at apologies.

"It's fine." You wiped at your eyes. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"No, it's... That was stupid." She mostly muttered, now sunken into the seat.

You shouldn't have raved at her like that. Unpacking all that she said would've been much easier with a clear head. Now you were both stuck in this tension. Tears drying on your cheeks and snot in your nose, you wished things would be easier. You wished Regina had never been taught to think like she did, that she'd see herself like you saw her.

"I think you'll still be pretty when you're forty." You put it out there, going for casual.

"You don't have to lie." She huffed, assuredly rolling her eyes.

"I'm not lying. I don't think a few wrinkles are enough to ruin your face."

"I'm not gonna get wrinkles. By the time I'm old enough to get them, there's gonna be technology to prevent signs of ageing entirely."

You laughed at that. "Are you gonna pioneer that?"

"You think I'd be smart enough?"

"I think you're very intelligent, Regina."

"Hm." You could tell she was pleased, though she was looking away. "Take left here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Notes: I'm writing these abnormally fast. Usually, I'm a total sloth with these things. I guess the instant gratification of notes really is addicting. If I suddenly drop off, I promise I didn't die I just ran out of steam.

I have no idea how long this series will be. I have a general outline and character arcs going in my head, but I'm purposefully not drafting anything. I've noticed that when I plan too much I just feel like I've already written the story and don't wanna put any of the work in. So, with this method, though it has its flaws, I won't get bored of my own ideas!

Also, just to sort of put it out there in writing, they're meant to be flawed characters. OC might be self-aware to a point, but she too has her shortcomings. While Regina's more obviously flawed, neither of them are saints. They're teenagers with shitty home lives, they're gonna be fucked up. That also includes Janis and Cady. They're all dumb teenagers with unresolved issues.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer

[rekino2114]

Nobara kugisaki, Maki Zenin and Utahime Iori with a boyfriend that's pretty much an affectionate airhead and appears to be weak but he gets revealed as a special grade sorcerer which they didn't know cause it never occurs to him to tell them

Nobara, maki, utahime and mai with an airhead special grade reader.

A/n:I hope you don't mind me fusing your two requests and adding mai cause they were pretty similar.

Nobara kugisaki

Nobara doesn't really mind your personality. She can be a bit of an airhead herself sometimes (especially with yuji), so sometimes she gets swept up in your demeanor.

She enjoys your affection quite a lot even if she may not always show it, there is nothing she loves more than hugging you in public to show off how cute you are together, especially when she gets jealous of another girl.

During a mission she asked you to try to take one of the curses arms so she could use resonance on it, she was left with her mouth wide open when you indeed brought her the arm....complete destroying the curse in the process, the following explanation that you're a special grade left her even more in shock.

"So.....You're a special grade like gojo-sensei?"

"Yep"

".....why the heck didn't you tell me?"

"I mean, you never asked"

"*sighs* You're lucky I love you"

Maki zenin

Maki gets annoyed because of you....a lot, even if she loves you the amount of times she has to explain things to you and drag you away from stupid situations gets to her sometimes.

The same thing goes with the affection you give her. She doesn't like it, she will mostly push you away but seeing you sad hurts her so if you continue to ask her enough times she might accept hugs while blushing a lot.

She was hesitant to train with you at first due to how weak you looked but her opinion quickly changed when she found out you could keep up with her physical power even with her heavenly restrictions.

"H-how did you- You're so strong!"

"Thanks, it's nothing a special grade can't handle"

"..........what?"

"Oh did I forget to mention that? I'm a special grade sorcer- ow! That hurt"

"That's what you get for not telling me"

Mai zenin

Unlike her sister, mai really likes your personality. You look cute in her eyes even if she might get annoyed sometimes, she can't stay mad at her cute little boyfriend for too long.

She also loves how affection you are, it makes her feel more confident in your relationship and she likes to show you off to everyone.

She's not that strong either so she was surprised when you two were paired up for a mission and was worried you were gonna get hurt but she was quickly proven wrong by your strength.

"Wow you're strong! You might even be on a special grade level"

"Thanks. That's because I am one"

"You are? How come you never told me?"

"I guess i didn't think you would be interested in knowing that sorry"

"It's fine, I think I deserve a kiss as an apology, though"

Utahime iori

Utahime is very conflicted about you. She loves you, but you remind her of a certain white-haired sorcerer who is the bane of her existence, she tries her best to stay calm with you though.

She's not fond of affectionate gestures, but she'll accept hand holding if you insist. Please don't do that in front of gojo, though. If you do, he'll never stop teasing utahime about it.

She tried to use her technique to power you up during a mission, but you told her it wasn't necessary before attacking, leaving her absolutely flabbergasted.

"W-what? How? Uh?"

"Why are you that surprised? I am a special grade and that curse was basically nothing"

"Y-YOU ARE?"

"Yeah. I never told you?"

"NO YOU DIDN'T"

"oops, well you know now"

"I-*sighs* I should have known"